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.
wèi qì
The seventh chapter calls it 胃脘之陽, the yang of the stomach, and it is the whole difference between a pulse that kills and one that does not: yang, in that chapter, is not a channel but this — the stomach's contribution, the faint evenness still left in a pulse. A pulse without it is the true storing pulse, and that one is fatal. Nothing in the chapter's prognosis works without the distinction.
wèi fēng
Stomach wind closes the chapter's catalogue. Food and drink will not go down, the diaphragm is blocked, the belly is full, cold food brings diarrhoea, and on examination the body is thin but the abdomen large. It is the only wind of the six named for a palace rather than a store.
shí shuǐ
In the seventh chapter, what yin and yang produce when they knot awry and there is much yin and little yang: stone water, and the lower abdomen swells. The name is a diagnosis in two words — a swelling below that has gone hard, because the yang that should move the water is not there to move it.
qí xié
An evil that has lodged where the channels do not run, and the one case in the chapter where needling crosses the body. If the disease is in a stray evil, then it is the stray evil's vessel that is treated, and it is treated by contralateral puncture — the left for the right, the right for the left. The chapter adds a second and slower rule for evil that has settled: if it lingers, the body wastes and does not move, then needle it by stages. Stray evil is thus distinguished from the winds of chapter one by where it sits rather than by what it is: not the evil that comes in season, but the one that has wandered off the map of the channels.
lù lù
Sweat pouring off and not stopping. The third of the three prohibitions, and the one that completes the set: scorching heat, a pulse that cannot be read, and sweat that will not stop. At that point the disease is in counterflow and cannot be treated.
zhuàng huǒ
Fire grown past its measure — the fire that eats and scatters the qi rather than feeding it. Suwen 5 puts it in a single breath with 少火, and the contrast is the whole doctrine: 壯火食氣，少火生氣 — the strong fire eats the qi, the lesser fire gives it birth. The chapter's other two clauses say the same thing from either end: the qi of the strong fire wanes, and the strong fire scatters the qi. The pair stands at the head of the chapter's long argument about qi and flavour, and later medicine took the two graphs as the names of the pathological and the physiological fire respectively.
cù
Sudden. Chapter 39 reads the graph cù rather than zú, and suddenness is the mark of the pains it is about: they arrive all at once, and the worst of them are sudden enough to look like death.
bó jué
The collapse that follows a paroxysm of anger: the qi of the form is cut off, the blood collects in the upper body, and consciousness is lost. Later texts connect it with what is now called stroke.
kǔ yù
Chapter 22 states both halves for each viscus, and everything else hangs from them. The liver suffers urgency and desires dispersal; the heart suffers laxity and desires softness; the spleen suffers dampness and desires relaxation; the lung suffers rising qi and desires gathering; the kidney suffers dryness and desires firmness. The first half tells you what to expect when the organ is ill and what foods to forbid. The second half tells you which flavour is a gift and which is a drain — since a flavour that gives the organ what it wants supplements it, and one that denies it drains it.
xià zhì
The dividing line by which chapter 31 splits one disease into two named diseases. Cold damage that develops into heat is called warm disease if it comes before the summer solstice and summerheat disease if it comes after. Nothing is said about the cause changing — it is one cause, one progression, and two names read off the calendar. This is the chapter's closing move, and it answers the opening one: heat diseases are all of the class of cold damage, and even when they are divided by season they are still that class.
shǔ
The name chapter 31 gives to cold damage that has developed into heat after the summer solstice, the counterpart of warm disease before it. The chapter's therapeutic note for summerheat is one line and is easy to get wrong: the sweat should be let out along with it, and must not be stopped. This is the same logic that governs the three-day rule earlier in the chapter — follow the direction the disease is already taking rather than opposing it.
bǔ xiě
The two things a needle does. Drain: 寫曰：必持内之，放而出之，排陽得鍼，邪氣得泄 — hold it and put it in, let it out, push the yang aside so the needle gets through, and the evil qi escapes. Supplement: 補曰：隨之隨之，意若妄之…外門已閉，中氣乃實 — follow it, follow it, as if absent-minded, until the outer gate is shut and the qi within is full. The rule behind both: 徐而疾則實，疾而徐則虚 — slow in and quick out fills, quick in and slow out empties. 寫 is the base graph of 瀉.