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.
qì kǒu
The place on the wrist at which the whole body can be read, and the chapter's answer to why. It is not that the wrist is connected to everything; it is that everything the organs live on passes through the stomach first, and the qi mouth is the greater yin — the lung vessel, to which all the vessels present themselves. So the qi and flavour of the organs and palaces come out of the stomach and show their changes here.
dì qì
The qi of earth, the second half of the pair on which Suwen 2 runs its account of the seasons. In autumn it is clear; in the disordered picture the chapter draws, when the yang qi has been shut up, it is the qi of earth that throws a veil over the brightness — the earth rising where the sky should be.
tiān qì
The qi of heaven, as opposed to the qi of earth. Suwen 2 uses the pair twice over: in autumn the qi of heaven is sharp and the qi of earth is clear; and in the cosmology paragraph it is heaven's qi that is pure, still, bright and luminous and keeps its virtue stored away, with the consequence that when it fails, the white dew does not fall and the ten thousand things have nothing to be given from.
qì xué
Acupuncture points, understood as the places where qi can be reached. Chapter 32's closing paragraph lists five of them for heat disease, each identified by the vertebra below which it lies and the region it governs: chest, diaphragm, liver, spleen, kidney. The list does not match the order of the five depots earlier in the chapter — there is no point for the heart or the lung — and the commentaries suspect lost text. The site transcribes it as it stands.
sī qì
The qi that has charge of the year itself, and the colour that year takes: 厥陰司氣爲蒼化、少陽爲丹化、陽明爲素化、太陽爲玄化、太陰爲黅化 — while 少陰 alone is given as 不司氣化. The chapter uses the word in two ways and holds them together. As a position it stands third in the list of four, between 在泉 and 間氣. As an office it is asked about directly: 帝曰：司氣者何如？歧伯曰：司氣者主歲同，然有餘不足也 — the qi that governs a year is the same qi as that year's 司歲之物, and what varies is only whether it comes in excess or in want. The 不司氣化 of 少陰 is what marks 君火 off from the other five: it takes no colour of its own.
qì lì
What is rooted outside, and stands by its qi. The paragraph runs: 根于外者亦五，故生化之别，有五氣、五味、五色、五類、五宜也…根于外者，命曰氣立，氣止則化絶. So 氣立 is the counterpart of 神機: where what is rooted within has a mechanism that goes on until the spirit leaves it, what is rooted without has only the season's qi to stand on, and the moment that qi stops, its transformations stop with it. The chapter gives them as a pair, and both in the same breath: 根于中者，命曰神機，神去則機息；根于外者，命曰氣立，氣止則化絶. 氣立 is the weaker of the two, and it is by the two together that the chapter divides the living world — what carries its root in itself, and what carries it in the season.
tóng zǐ gāo
The first of the two eye-signs with which the chapter closes, and the lesser of them. A raised pupil means the greater yang is insufficient; the upturned eyes — 戴眼 — mean the greater yang is finished. The chapter has already said that when the qi of foot greater yang is cut off, the feet cannot bend or straighten and death comes with the eyes turned up. Then it gives the last line of all: these are the essentials for deciding life and death, and they must not go unexamined.
shuò
The rapid quality: more beats to the breath than the normal five. It belongs to the yang family and answers heat. The book uses it in three ways that must not be flattened: as a quality (脉浮而數), as the herald of a coming transmission (脉數急者，爲傳也), and as part of the definition of the skipping pulse (脉來數，時一止復來者，名曰促). Read shuò throughout; the same character read shù means a count or a number of days.
fāng shì
The physicians of the day, who could not agree whether brain and marrow were storing organs or palaces, or whether the stomach and intestines were one or the other, and who each insisted he was right. The chapter's move is not to adjudicate between them but to change the question: stop asking what a part is and ask what it does. Note the word carries no contempt here — it is the ordinary Han term for a man of the medical arts, before it narrowed towards the alchemists of the Qin and Han courts.
dìng qī zhī jì
The name the chapter gives the table it has just finished. Thirty pairs of years have been given their upper, middle and lower qi, their transformations, their disaster palaces and their prescriptions; then comes 凡此定期之紀，勝復正化，皆有常數，不可不察，故知其要者，一言而終，不知其要，流散無窮. The claim is that the table is not a list of cases but a record with fixed periods, and that everything in it is number: 勝復 and 正化 alike can be counted in advance. It is the table's colophon, and it is what makes the phrase 六元正紀 a name for a book rather than a sentence.
liù qì zhèng jì
The name the chapter gives to its own closing passage. After the table of sixty years and the questions about 加臨 and 天符, 岐伯 says 夫六氣正紀，有化有變，有勝有復，有用有病，不同其候，帝欲何乎 — and then gives thirteen paragraphs of what each qi does on arrival. The phrase is the argument in miniature: the six qi have a regular record (有化有變), it can be stated in full (正紀), and it differs from case to case (不同其候). Everything in the chapter before it is the record for the years; this is the record for the qi themselves.
huǎn
The relaxed quality: a pulse unhurried and without tension. It is the most equivocal of the gentle qualities, because the book uses it for three different things. When yin and yang are equal it is named relaxed; when the defensive qi is in harmony it is named relaxed; and when a Taiyang patient sweats and fears wind, a relaxed pulse names wind stroke. The first two are health and the third is disease, so the entry keeps all three and marks which is which.