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.
fǔ zàng
The paired word for the organs — the storehouses and what is stored — appearing in chapter 25 as the fifth of the five requirements: to know the examination of the depots, the viscera, the blood and the qi. It is worth noting that the chapter has already used 府 on its own in a different sense, for the ruined depot of §4; the two are the same graph and the reader has to keep them apart. Here 藏 is read zàng, not cáng.
gé
The chapter's oddest penalty. Striking the diaphragm does not kill quickly — 不過一歲必死, the person will die within a year — and yet it is listed with the strikes that kill in a day. It appears twice: once among the fatal strikes, and once in the rule for avoiding them, where the diaphragm's place is named as one of the places you may needle. It is the one structure in the chapter that is both lethal and passable.
chóng yáng zhī rén
The man in whom yang is doubled. The signs are all excess and all outward: blazing and high, quick of speech, lifting his feet high, the qi of heart and lung overfull, yang qi slippery, full and rising, so that his spirit stirs and his qi goes first. For the needle this is the fastest case in the chapter: the qi meets the needle as it enters. Set against him is the man of much yin and little yang, in whom qi sinks and goes slowly, so that many needlings are needed before he feels anything.
chóng fāng
What the chapter prescribes when the first formula fails: 奇之不去則偶之，是謂重方. The failure is not of the drugs but of the count — an odd formula has not cleared the disease, so the even one is laid beside it, and the two together are a doubled formula. It is the third of four terms in one sequence, and the sequence is the chapter's answer to a physician who has tried the plain rule: 近者奇之，遠者偶之 gives the ordinary choice, 重方 gives what to do when it does not work, and 反佐 gives what to do when 重方 does not work either. 重 is read chóng: the formula is not heavier, it is repeated.
háo máo
The fine hair of the body's surface, and the outermost of the seven depths chapter 50 sets out. It occurs twice, both times inside the single phrase 毫毛腠理: illness that sits there is to be needled there, and the skin beneath it is not to be touched. The site's entry for 毛 (id 613) is the autumn quality of the pulse, a different word; 皮毛 (id 1126) is skin and body hair taken together as the lung's counterpart.
gé
The drumskin quality, named once in the five chapters: when cold and emptiness strike together and the pulse is hollow within while taut without, it is called 革. The consequence given is severe and specific — miscarriage and leakage in women, loss of blood and semen in men. Because the book gives the name only here, the entry is short: it records the single occurrence, the sequence that produces it (large → hollow → empty → drumskin), and the two outcomes, without importing later descriptions of the shape.
bā xū
The eight emptinesses are the two elbows, the two armpits, the two hips and the two backs of the knees — the hollows at the great joints. Huang Di asks what they answer to and Bo Gao answers in one word: the five depots. Each pair is the road by which one depot's qi leaves when evil enters it — lung and heart to the elbows, liver to the armpits, spleen to the hips, kidney to the hollow behind the knee. The chapter then gives the reason for the name: 凡此八虚者，皆機關之室，真氣之所過，血絡之所遊 — they are the rooms of the mechanism, where true qi passes and blood vessels travel. Because they are rooms and not dead hollows, evil blood must not be allowed to stay: 住留則傷筋絡，骨節，機關，不得屈伸，故痀攣也. The eight are therefore both a map of where disease shows and a warning about what happens when it settles there.
bā dòng
The eight winds and, more importantly, their variation. Chapter 25 lists holding their changes alongside the alternation of the five conquests as one of the attainments that put a physician beyond deception and let him go out and in alone. The emphasis falls on 變, change: it is not a table of eight winds to be memorised but a set of movements to be tracked, in the same way the chapter later wants the physician to track the comings and goings of qi rather than to know its name.
bā zhèng
The eight upright are the eight nodes of the year, and they enter this chapter at its last turn, where the sage's knowledge is summed up: heaven and earth, the four seasons, the five viscera and six receptacles, female and male, outer and inner, needling and moxa and stone and drug — and then 八正九候，診必副矣, in the eight upright and the nine indicators his diagnosis must match. The eight are the two solstices, the two equinoxes and the four beginnings of the seasons; 正 is the due weather of each, and the chapter's point is that a diagnosis which does not answer to them is not a diagnosis. The nine indicators beside it are the three sectors and three depths of the pulse, which have their own entry.
bā fēng
One of the things the physicians of middle antiquity used ten days of decoction to drive out. Wang Bing quotes the Ling shu for the eight names and for what each wind does: the child wind from the east strikes the sinews and lodges in the liver, the weak wind from the south-east strikes the flesh and lodges in the stomach, the great weak wind from the south strikes the vessels and lodges in the heart, the scheming wind from the south-west strikes the flesh and lodges in the spleen, the hard wind from the west strikes the skin and lodges in the lung, the breaking wind from the north-west strikes the small intestine channel, the great hard wind from the north strikes the bone and lodges in the kidney, and the baleful wind from the north-east strikes the armpit and flank and lodges in the large intestine.
xū
The empty quality: a pulse without substance, yielding under the finger because what should fill it is not there. The book names it twice by derivation — the hollow pulse is empty (芤則爲虚), and a floating pulse at the instep is empty (浮則爲虚) — and once by the body it accompanies: 脉虚身熱，得之傷暑, an empty pulse with a hot body comes from summerheat. Emptiness here is not one shape but a conclusion drawn from shape plus circumstance.
xū lǐ
A place, not a vessel. 虚里 is the great network of the stomach as it can be felt below the left breast, where it pierces the diaphragm and networks the lung and its beat is strong enough to move the clothing. Chapter 18 is the source of the name, and what is read at it is the ancestral qi: panting and interrupted means the disease is in the centre; knotted and transverse means an accumulation; a beat that never comes is death; and a beat so large that it shakes the clothes means the ancestral qi is leaking away.