The Eternal Dream of Chinese Emperors

For millennia, Chinese rulers pursued the elusive dream of immortality with near-religious fervor. From Qin Shi Huang dispatching expeditions to mythical Penglai Island in search of the elixir of life, to Han Wudi’s court alchemists laboring over golden crucibles, the imperial obsession with longevity transcended dynasties. The Yongzheng Emperor (1678–1735) of the Qing Dynasty inherited this tradition with remarkable intensity, transforming his court into a laboratory of Daoist alchemy. His reign offers one of history’s most meticulously documented cases of an emperor’s entanglement with mercury-laden promises of eternal life.

A Prince’s Early Fascination with Alchemy

Long before ascending the throne, Yongzheng—then Prince Yinzhen—revealed his alchemical interests through poetry. His composition The Art of Alchemy (烧丹) paints a vivid scene:

“Cinnabar and medicinal blends,
Pine and cypress encircle the cloud-altar.
The furnace channels yin-yang fires,
Mastering both inner and outer elixirs.”

These verses betray more than literary exercise. The “cinnabar” (lead sulfide) and “yin-yang fires” reference core Daoist alchemical processes, suggesting hands-on experimentation. Unlike his father Kangxi’s cautious approach to immortality pursuits, Yongzheng embraced alchemy with the precision of a scholar and the zeal of a devotee.

Imperial Alchemy: A State-Sponsored Enterprise

Upon becoming emperor in 1722, Yongzheng institutionalized his passion. The Forbidden City and its gardens transformed into a sprawling alchemical complex, with operations rivaling imperial ministries in scale and secrecy.

### The Purple Sun Sanctuary

Yongzheng’s first act was elevating Zhang Boduan (984–1082), founder of the Southern School of Internal Alchemy, to divine status. Bestowing the title “Great Compassionate, Perfectly Penetrating Zen Immortal Purple Sun” (大慈圆通禅仙紫阳真人), he commissioned a Daoist temple at Zhang’s birthplace. In his commemorative stele inscription, Yongzheng praised Zhang for “revealing the essentials of the golden elixir”—a clear endorsement of external alchemy’s mercury-based formulations.

### The Xiucqing Village Laboratories

Archival records from the Imperial Household Department (活计档) unveil staggering details. Between 1730–1735, Yongzheng ordered 157 material deliveries to his covert laboratory at Xiucqing Village in the Old Summer Palace:

– 192 tons of coal
– 42 tons of charcoal
– 10 taels of silver ore (per batch)
– Countless crucibles of iron, copper, and lead

The site’s geography—nestled against hills with water access—followed feng shui principles for optimal qi circulation. Here, teams of Daoist adepts like Zhang Taixu and Wang Dingqian labored over furnaces, producing the infamous Jiji Dan (既济丹, “Balance-Achieving Elixir”).

The Imperial Pharmacy: Prescriptions and Politics

Yongzheng didn’t keep his concoctions private. By 1726, he regularly consumed Jiji Dan, proclaiming its benefits in edicts to favored officials like Governor-General Ortai:

“Consume it boldly without doubt—this is a medicine that brings benefit without harm!”

Court records show systematic distribution:
– 1734: Elixirs gifted to four military commanders suppressing Miao rebellions
– 1735: Special batches for imperial guards

This practice blurred lines between sovereign favor and state policy, embedding alchemy into Qing governance.

The Daoist Courtiers: Healers and Heretics

Yongzheng’s 1730 illness marked a turning point. Desperate, he summoned renowned Daoist healers, creating a shadow court of religious figures.

### The Rise and Fall of Jia Shifang

Hailed initially as a miracle worker, the Henan-born Jia Shifang fell abruptly from grace. Yongzheng’s edict reveals paranoid fury:

“For a month, my health improved… yet he could make me well or ill at whim!”

Jia’s execution (1730) underscores the peril of wielding influence over an emperor’s body—and by extension, the state.

### The Survival of Lou Jinyuan

In contrast, Lou Jinyuan (1689–1776) navigated the throne’s dangers skillfully. His “Orthodox Wonderworker” (妙正真人) title reflected Yongzheng’s praise for “loyalty and sincere teaching.” Lou’s avoidance of overt mysticism—relying on ritual prayers rather than bold claims—kept him in favor until the emperor’s death.

The Mercury Legacy: Death and Historical Reckoning

Yongzheng’s sudden demise in 1735 at age 56 sparked immediate speculation. While official records cite overwork, historians note:

– 1735 autopsy reports (reconstructed from palace archives) describe symptoms matching acute mercury poisoning: tremors, organ failure, and skin discoloration.
– Succession documents show son Qianlong urgently expelling alchemists, destroying laboratory records.

Modern analyses of surviving Jiji Dan recipes confirm lethal doses of mercury and lead—standard in “outer alchemy” but anathema to modern toxicology.

Cultural Reverberations: Alchemy as Statecraft

Yongzheng’s obsession reflected deeper Qing strategies:

1. Sacralizing Rule: By embodying the Daoist sage-king ideal, he legitimized Manchu authority over Han traditions.
2. Control Mechanisms: Elixir distribution created indebted official networks.
3. Technological Spin-offs: Alchemical research advanced Qing metallurgy and glassmaking.

Modern Echoes: The Immortality Industry Today

From Silicon Valley’s biohackers to traditional medicine markets, the quest for longevity persists. Yongzheng’s story serves as a cautionary tale about power, science, and humanity’s oldest dream—one that continues to blur the lines between visionary pursuit and dangerous obsession.

In the halls of the Old Summer Palace, where pear trees now bloom over unexcavated laboratory foundations, the air still seems to whisper the alchemists’ creed: Solve et Coagula—dissolve and reconstitute, until mortal flesh becomes gold.