Archives: Glossary

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.

  • 菀熟

    yùn shú

    Pent up and ripening

    菀熟 is the chapter's account of how the illness started, and it is a phrase the commentators divide over. 八風菀熟,五藏消爍,傳邪相受: the eight winds pent up and ripening, the five viscera consumed and melted, the evil transmitted and received. 菀 is 郁, pent and unable to disperse; Yang Shangshen glosses 菀熟 as 蓄積, stored up. 熟, ripened, is read 熱 by Wu Kun, Ma Shi and Zhang Jiebin — pent up until it turns to heat — and the base text's 熟 is kept here with that reading recorded in the collation. The phrase matters because it is the chain Huang Di says Lei Gong's answer left out: he named a viscus without asking where the illness came from.

  • 鬱發

    yù fā

    Pent-up and breaking out

    The moment a pent-up qi lets go. The chapter treats it twice: once in the 治則 for 少陰司天, where the prescription is 折其鬱發,先取化源,無使暴過而生其病也; and once at the very end, in the five treatments, where 火鬱發之 is itself the cure for pent-up fire. Between the two sits the longest passage of the chapter, five paragraphs on 土鬱之發、金鬱之發、水鬱之發、木鬱之發、火鬱之發, each naming its sign in weather and in men and closing with its season and its number — 怫乃發也,其氣四. The chapter's whole account of disaster is the working out of these two graphs.

  • 嗌

    yì

    Pharynx · yi

    The pharynx — the passage at the back of the throat, and specifically the place that the foot Taiyin vessel networks as it rises. Chapter 29 names it once, in the sentence that answers the chapter's last question: Taiyin's vessel penetrates the stomach, belongs to the spleen and networks the pharynx, and it is through that vessel, not through the membrane, that the spleen can move the stomach's fluids. The chapter's careful separation of 喉, 咽 and 嗌 — airway, gullet, and the site the vessel reaches — is the earliest clear statement of the distinction in the literature.

  • 皮𩩻

    pí tū

    Pi Tu

    A landmark below the navel, and the one place in this chapter where the text stops to say where a needle should start. 病在少腹有積,刺皮𩩻以下,至少腹而止 — with a gathering in the lesser abdomen, needle from below the 皮𩩻 down as far as the lesser abdomen, and stop there. Wang Bing fixes the spot: 臍下同身寸之五寸橫約文, the crease five inches below the navel, and warns on the same breath that one must not go deep there. What the graph meant is contested and always has been; what the sentence asks for is not — a starting point on the surface, measured downward.

  • 偏枯

    piān kū

    Pianku · one-sided wasting

    In the seventh chapter, what comes of the third yang and the third yin falling ill together: one side of the body withers, the limbs go flaccid, and the four limbs cannot be raised. The word is the ancestor of the later 半身不遂 — but it says withering, not paralysis, and it is worth keeping which half of the body is named.

  • 徹衣

    chè yī

    Piercing the Clothes

    Piercing the clothes is the fourth of the five joints. Its case is a man whose yang is in excess and whose yin is not enough: within, heat; without, heat; 内𤍠相摶,𤍠於懷炭 — the heat is like carrying coals, so that he cannot bear cloth next to him nor sit on a mat, the seams of the skin are shut and no sweat comes, the tongue is scorched, the lips dry, the throat parched, and he no longer cares whether his food is good. The method is to pierce all the extraordinary transports of the yang — 盡刺諸陽之奇輸 — a set of points with no fixed place, together with 天府 and 大杼 three times each, 中膂 to take the heat away, and the foot and hand greater yin filled to stop the sweat. When the heat goes and the sweat thins, the cure is quicker than taking off a coat: 疾於徹衣.

  • 洞心

    dòng xīn

    Piercing the Heart

    What too much acrid food does to the heart region: the acrid qi rises and lingers below the heart, the camp and defence cannot receive it in season, and the centre feels hollow, as if pierced. 洞 carries both senses at once — a cavity and a passage — and both are wanted here: the sensation is emptiness and the mechanism is a forced opening. It is the exact counterpart of 悗心, the stifled heart that sweet food produces: one hollows, the other blocks.

  • 痤疿

    cuó fèi

    Pimples and prickly heat

    Skin eruptions of the sweat ducts. In this chapter they come from sweat meeting dampness, or from the sweat of labour meeting wind so that the cold presses the eruption back into the skin.

  • 毒藥

    dú yào

    Potent drugs

    The therapy of the west. Its water and soil are hard, its people live high and eat richly and are fat with grease; the surface is sealed, so evil cannot get in and their illness comes from inside — from eating and drinking, from the passions, from excess. Such illness is attacked with drugs. Wang Bing is careful about the word: anything that can attack a disease is called a potent drug, and drugs are plants, trees, worms, fish, birds and beasts — anything that will remove an illness. Zhang Jiebin says the same: the term gathers up all medicinals.

  • 洞泄

    dòng xiè

    Pouring diarrhoea

    A watery, unrestrained diarrhoea. Suwen 3 makes it the summer consequence of wind contracted in spring that lingered in the body instead of clearing.

  • 按摩

    àn mó

    Pressing and rubbing · an mo

    Pressing and rubbing — the chapter's prescription for numbness, the condition it attributes to a life of repeated fright and to channels that no longer get through. It is paired with medicated wine, and the pairing is the point: the rubbing works on the surface and the wine carries in, and between them they reach a trouble that neither needle nor drug taken inward is suited to. This is among the earliest appearances of the word in medical literature, and it is worth noting that the chapter gives it no special status — it is simply the method that fits the tissue.

  • 按蹻

    àn qiāo

    Pressing and treading · an qiao

    Pressing and treading — the hands' art and the feet's art in a single word, what later ages separate into 按摩 and 導引. Suwen 4 names it once and makes the name a rule: 故冬不按蹻,春不鼽衄. The point is the season, not the technique. Winter stores, and this chapter's whole argument is that what is stored must not be scattered; 按蹻 is named because it scatters. Kept, the winter hands on a spring with no snivelling nosebleed and no disease of the nape — which is the same promise the chapter makes about 精 two paragraphs later, when it says that the one who stores the essence does not fall ill of warmth in spring.