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.
zhēn zàng
In the seventh chapter, the pulse that means death. Yin, in the sentence 'what is called yin is the true storing pulse', is not yin in general but this: the pulse of an organ whose qi stands exposed because the stomach's qi is gone. Once it shows, the patient is ruined, and ruin means death. The chapter then prices it — liver eighteen days, heart nine, lung twelve, kidney seven, spleen four.
zhì
The thing in a person that has a direction. Suwen 2 is the chapter of this word: every season has its instruction for the will — let it grow, keep it from anger, settle it, hide it.
zhì rén
The second of the four kinds of people at the close of Suwen 1. Their de · virtue is pure and the way is complete in them; they are in harmony with yin and yang and in tune with the four seasons; they leave the age and keep clear of the common, store up essence and make the spirit whole, and travel between heaven and earth with seeing and hearing reaching beyond the eight directions. They add to the span of their lives and stay strong — and, the chapter says, they too are counted with the true persons. What separates them from the 真人 above them is that they have not gone beyond ending; what separates them from the 聖人 below is that they have left the world.
zhù yóu
The treatment of high antiquity, and the word most often mistranslated in this chapter. Wang Bing's gloss is a definition, not a ritual: 祝說病由，不勞針石而已 — to declare the origin of the illness, with no need for needle or stone. The Newly Collated edition records Quan Yuanqi's note that zhuyou was a southern deity, and Zhang Jiebin much later takes it as spells and charms. The chapter's own logic supports Wang Bing: the reason invocation used to work is that the patient's spirit was whole.