大唐故三藏玄奘法師行狀 1.2

In the third year of Zhenguan, about to set out on his journey, he again sought an auspicious response. He then dreamed at night that in the midst of a great ocean there was Mount Sumeru, exceedingly splendid and magnificent. He wished to climb the mountain, but the surging billows were tossing wildly. Feeling no fear, he resolved to enter. Suddenly he saw lotus flowers spring up from the waves, arising wherever his feet fell. In a moment he reached the mountain, yet it was steep and precipitous, impossible to climb. He leapt upward, and a whirlwind supported and carried him aloft. Arriving at the peak, he looked around in all four directions, finding it completely open and without obstruction. He awoke with joy, and thereupon set forth. He was twenty-nine years old at the time. At that time there was a monk from Qinchuan named Xiaoda who, having completed his studies in the capital, was returning to his hometown. The Dharma Master traveled with him, and journeying stage by stage, they arrived at Guazhou. Inquiring about the conditions of the western road, everyone said: 'The Drifting Sands have no paths; travelers mostly band together, taking ox and horse dung as well as skeletal remains as markers. When fierce winds stir the sand, even the skeletons are buried level. Moreover, winds often stir up demons and sprites of all kinds. For more than eight hundred li east to west, anyone wishing to travel alone can never reach [the destination].' Hearing this, he felt sorrow and vexation, not knowing what strategy to take. He then worshipped the Buddha and prayed, wishing to find a person to guide him across the pass—namely, Yumen Pass. The pass borders the Hulu River. A hundred li west of the pass there is a beacon tower, and beneath the beacon tower there is water. In all there are five beacon towers; beyond the five beacon towers, there are no more garrisons and patrols—it is all vast desert. He then found a barbarian (Hu) who agreed to escort him across the pass. When the time came, the man backed out, but [Xuanzang] pressed him strongly, and so they set out. At night they reached the river, more than ten li from the pass. At the upper reaches there were desert poplars (*Populus euphratica*); the barbarian felled trees to make a bridge, spread grass, and filled it with sand to drive the horse across. Having crossed the river, they were exceedingly joyful, and each laid down his mat to sleep. At midnight, the barbarian arose, drew his knife, and walked toward the Dharma Master wishing to slaughter him. The Dharma Master immediately arose, recollected the Buddha, and recited sūtras. The barbarian sat back down. A short while later he arose again and said to the Dharma Master: 'Under the state's laws, secretly traveling to foreign lands carries an exceedingly heavy penalty. On the road past the five beacon towers, traveling beneath them will surely get you caught; there is no escaping it. Being captured at just one place means death! I have family obligations; how could I bear it? The king's law must not be transgressed—let us return together, Master.' The Dharma Master replied: 'Xuanzang can only die facing west; I vow never to live by returning east. If the benefactor cannot go on, he is free to return; Xuanzang will go alone.' The barbarian said: 'If the Master is caught, you will inevitably implicate me, and in the end I will not escape punishment.' The Dharma Master made a solemn oath for him: 'Even if my body is shattered to dust, I will never implicate you!' He pointed to heaven and earth, stars and moon, repeating his words. The barbarian then bid farewell to the Dharma Master, gave him a horse, and departed. Thereupon he set out by night and reached the first beacon tower. As he was watering his horse by the water, in a short while, arrows flew thick and fast, almost striking his knee. Realizing he had been detected, he quickly went toward them. The men atop the beacon tower held torches and asked: 'Who are you, and where do you wish to go?' He then removed his cap to reveal his monastic robes and replied: 'I come from the capital, wishing to seek the Dharma in the Brāhmaṇa country.' The men took him up to the beacon tower to see the commandant. The commandant questioned and reproached him severely. The Dharma Master recounted the purpose of his journey in detail, his tears falling along with his voice. The commandant, moved to pity, also shed tears and said: 'If the Master is capable of this, you are free to go. If your wish is fulfilled, it will also benefit the state. For now, Master, please rest.' Thereupon he lodged him. At dawn, he prepared food for him, further gave him roasted-grain provisions, and personally escorted him for more than ten li, saying: 'Master, do not pass by the other beacon towers. Beyond the fifth beacon tower is the Wild Horse Spring (Yemaquan); you can draw more water there and continue.' The Dharma Master passed beyond the fifth beacon tower and encountered a great sandstorm, losing track of where the spring was. As daylight faded, he stopped beside a sand gully and took down his water skin wishing to drink. The horse pack was heavy, his hand slipped, and it overturned; he obtained barely a single drink, while all the rest was spilled and lost. His provisions for a thousand li were exhausted in an instant. How could his distress even be expressed? After the third watch he set out again, knowing no road, only advancing by looking northwest toward the stars and moon. By the afternoon of the next day, he was already severely parched. Although he had roasted grain cakes, they were too dry to eat. For four nights and five days like this, not a single drop moistened his throat. Both man and horse were utterly exhausted and could no longer walk; he then lay down in the sand, silently recollecting Avalokiteśvara, unable to speak, his breath almost expired. On the fifth night, a cool wind suddenly blew, extraordinarily refreshing and cold. His body revived to consciousness, and the horse was also able to stand. He forced himself to walk for more than twenty li, but lay down again, unable to go on. He dreamed of a great spirit who said to him: 'Strive on! Why are you lying down again?' Thereupon he arose again. The horse suddenly took a different path and could not be turned back. Traveling about ten li, he came upon a pool, clear, cold, and transparent. He was overjoyed. He watered the horse, washed and rinsed himself, and took chopped straw and roasted grain to feed the horse. Beside the pool there was also green grass. By dawn, the horse was strong again, and the man also felt restored. He rested beside the water for another day and night. On the following day, having filled up with water, he gradually advanced. Passing three more days, he finally reached Yiwu. Beyond the northern quadrant of the Drifting Sands, he again encountered demons and spirits, several kinds every day; he was so exhausted and beset with hardships that they can hardly be recorded. Having arrived in Yiwu, he met an envoy from Gaochang, who returned and reported the Dharma Master's intentions to his king. The king was greatly pleased and sent men with camels to welcome him. Arriving in Gaochang, they met with both sorrow and joy. The king wished to detain the Dharma Master and would not permit him to go west. The Dharma Master then fasted for four days to move him deeply. The king's mind was also changed; the Queen Mother wished to form a mother-and-son bond, and the king wished to become brothers, saying that if he agreed, the Master would be free to depart. The Dharma Master agreed. The king joyfully requested him to lecture on the Kāruṇikarāja Sūtra, ordained four novices for him, and made dozens of sets of Dharma robes. He dispatched high officials with saddled horses and doubled the porters to escort him. He also composed twenty-four letters to various states such as that of the Turk Yabghu Qaghan, accompanied by more than five hundred bolts of damask and raw silk, ordering them to escort him from stage to stage, stating: 'This Dharma Master is my younger brother.'

"May the Qaghan pity the Master as he pities a slave, allowing him to reach the Brāhmaṇa country." Thereupon he took his leave. When he arrived at the encampment of the Yabghu, the Qaghan was delighted and sent men to escort him stage by stage, until he finally reached Kaśmīra (formerly called the kingdom of Jibin). These were entirely the power of the Qaghan and the aid of the King of Gaochang. The perils and hardships passed through in between—the Congling (Pamir) Snow Mountains, the Issyk-Kul (Hot Sea), and the Iron Gate—as well as the courtesies and reception by the various kings, cannot be described in full. In the kingdom of Kaśmīra, there was a venerable elder named Saṅghasūdra, who was skilled in the sūtras and śāstras. The Dharma Master went to him and studied the Abhidharmakośa, Nyāyānusāra, Hetuvidyā, Śabdavidyā, and other texts, as well as the Mahāvibhāṣā. The king of the country pitied him for learning exhaustively without copies of the texts; he accordingly provided ten scribes to transcribe them for him, and ordered that all his other needs also be supplied by royal decree. Having completed his studies, he set out to the southeast and entered the kingdom of Takka. Along with more than twenty companions, they crossed the Candrabhāgā River together and went east into a great palāśa forest. There they encountered bandits, who plundered all the clothes and provisions they carried. Leaving them with their bare lives, they reached a village, begged from the people, and each received clothes. Next, arriving at the eastern border of Takka, there was a great mango grove. In the grove was a brāhmaṇa seven hundred years of age; looking at his countenance, he seemed to be around thirty. He was clear in the Madhyamaka and Śata śāstras, as well as the Vedic texts, and was said to be a disciple of Nāgārjuna. The Dharma Master stayed with him for a month, studying the Madhyamaka and Śata śāstras. Going east again, he arrived at the kingdom of Cinabhukti, where he went to Dharma Master Vinitaprabha and studied treatises such as the Abhidharma, the Samayapradīpikā, and the Nyāyamukha. Going east again to the Tamasāvana Monastery, he went to Dharma Master Candravarmā and studied the Prakaraṇapāda Vibhāṣā. Going east again, he arrived at the kingdom of Jālandhara, where he went to the venerable elder Candragupta and studied the Sautrāntika Vibhāṣā. He also studied the Samayapradīpikā of the Sarvāstivāda with the master of treatise Mitrasena. Passing through successive places, he arrived at the kingdom of Kapitha to pay homage to the sacred traces. Formerly, when the Buddha was in Trāyastriṃśa Heaven to repay his mother's kindness, after finishing the preaching of the Dharma for one rains retreat, he descended to the world of men via a flight of triple jeweled steps. Moving northwest again, he reached the kingdom of Kanyākubja (called Qu nü cheng in Chinese). He went to the Tripiṭaka Master Vīryasena and studied the Buddhadeva Vibhāṣā and the Sūryadeva Vibhāṣā. From here, proceeding southeast, he arrived at the kingdom of Ayodhyā. Having venerated the sacred traces, he traveled eastward down the Gaṅgā River by boat together with more than eighty companions, intending to head toward the kingdom of Hayamukha. On both banks of the river were aśoka groves, lush and dense. Suddenly, more than ten pirate boats emerged all at once from the grove, rowing against the current. Turmoil broke out aboard the boat, and several people leapt into the river. The pirates forced the boat to the shore, ordered everyone to strip off their clothes, and searched for precious treasures. These bandits were accustomed to serving the goddess Durgā; every autumn, they would search for a person of handsome and fair appearance, slay them, and take their flesh and blood to sacrifice to her to seek good fortune and blessings. Seeing the Dharma Master's handsome and graceful bearing, they looked at each other with delight. Thereupon the bandits sent men to fetch water, mixed mud to smear the ground and make an altar in the flowering grove, dragged the Dharma Master up onto the altar to sit, and had several men stand by with drawn swords, about to strike. The Dharma Master told them: "I have come from afar seeking the Dharma to transmit what has not yet been heard. If this wish has not been fulfilled and you patrons kill me, I fear it will bring no merit." The bandits refused to listen. Knowing there was no escape, the Dharma Master said to the bandits: "Please grant me a short moment; do not harass me, so that I may dwell in right mindfulness, which would also be a kindness from you patrons." Thereupon he concentrated his mind single-mindedly on the palace of Tuṣita Heaven where Bodhisattva Maitreya dwells. In his mind's contemplation, it was as if he ascended Mount Sumeru, crossed the first, second, and third heavens, and saw the palace of Tuṣita, Bodhisattva Maitreya's exquisite jeweled dais, and the bodhisattvas surrounding him. At this time, his body and mind were filled with joy; he did not know he was on the altar and remembered not the bandits. His companions wept and wailed aloud. In a brief moment, a black wind arose on all sides, snapping trees and sending sand flying. The river waters surged with waves, and boats were tossed and overturned. The bandits were struck with great terror and asked the companions: "Where does this monk come from, and what is his name?" They replied: "He comes from the country of China; this is a seeker of the Dharma. If you kill him, you will incur boundless sin! Look at the state of the wind and waves: the heavenly deity is already wroth. You must repent immediately!" Terrified, the bandits led one another to repent and apologize, bowing their heads in refuge. At that time, the Dharma Master was still unaware; only when a bandit touched him with a hand did he open his eyes. He said to the bandit: "Has the time arrived?" The bandit said: "We dare not harm you, Master; we only wish to make confession." The Dharma Master accepted their homage and apologies, preached the Dharma extensively to them, and inspired them to give rise to the aspiration [for awakening]. The bandits urged one another to gather all their bandit gear and cast it entirely into the river; they returned all stripped clothes and provisions to their original owners, and all received the five precepts. The wind and waves calmed down again. Joyfully, the bandits bowed their heads to the ground in homage and departed. His companions were filled with awe and admiration far beyond the ordinary. Those near and far who heard of it marvelled in amazement. After passing through several countries, he went northeast to the kingdom of Śrāvastī (formerly called Shewei, which is erroneous). Its sacred traces were very numerous, and he was able to pay homage to them all. He also arrived at the city of Vaiśālī, viewing the residence of Vimalakīrti and the place where the Buddha consented to Māra's request for nirvāṇa, and paid homage at them all. From there, he arrived again at the kingdom of Magadha, where sacred traces were extremely numerous. The Dharma Master stayed for seven days before he had completed his worship. From there, traveling southeast for more than four hundred li, he arrived at the bodhi tree. Within an area of thirty li around it, sacred traces were especially pervasive. The Dharma Master stayed eight or nine days before he had completed his worship. On the tenth day, the assembly of Nālandā Monastery dispatched forty virtuous elders to come and welcome him to the monastery's estate, lodging at the native village of Mahāmaudgalyāyana. The next day after the meal, another two hundred monks and more than a thousand patrons came to welcome him, holding banners, canopies, flowers, and incense, and escorted him into Nālandā Monastery. After they arrived, the entire assembly gathered together, and the Dharma Master met with them. When the assembly sat down, they had the karmadāna announce that the Dharma Master was residing in the monastery and that all things within the monastery were to be shared in common. After the meeting with the assembly was concluded, twenty men of virtuous conduct were dispatched to accompany the Dharma Master to pay respects to the Treasury of the True Dharma—that is, Dharma Master Śīlabhadra.

This person had broad learning and a powerful memory; he was thoroughly versed in all Buddhist teachings as well as non-Buddhist scriptures. Moreover, he was the most senior elder, then one hundred and sixty years of age. Revering him in common, the assembly did not dare utter his personal name, so they referred to him as the Treasury of the True Dharma (Saddharmakośa). The Dharma Master followed [them] inside to pay his respects. Entering properly upon the duties of master and disciple, he strove to show the utmost reverence. When he had finished bowing his head in homage and praising [him], the Treasury of the True Dharma bade the Dharma Master and the other monks to be seated. He asked whence he had come, and [Xuanzang] replied that he had come from the land of Cīna, wishing to study treatises and sūtras such as the Yogācārabhūmi under the master's guidance. Hearing this, [the elder] wept and summoned his disciple Buddhabhadra, instructing him to recount the circumstances of his painful illness from three years earlier. Buddhabhadra said, 'Three years ago, the Upādhyāya was afflicted with an illness: his four limbs were cramped and stiffened, with pain like fire burning and blades cleaving. In his heart he loathed this body and intended to bring about his end by fasting. During the night, he dreamed of a celestial being with a golden complexion, who said to the Upādhyāya: "Do not loathe this body! The body is a vessel of the Dharma; cultivating [the path] is hard to attain. In the past you were once a king and caused much affliction to sentient beings; hence you have brought upon yourself this suffering. You should reprove and repent of yourself, bow, chant, and practice the path, and broadly spread the True Dharma; then your burden of karma can be eliminated. If you simply seek to abandon it by fasting, you will never be done with it: after dying and receiving another body, you will still undergo suffering, just like the wheel over a well turning without cease. In a little more than three years, there will be a monk from the land of Cīna who wishes to come here to study the sūtras and treatises; he has already set out on the road. You should wait for him, expound [the teachings] for him, and transmit them [to him]. When that man has received them, he will spread and circulate them in turn. By this merit, your own guilt will naturally be extinguished. I am Mañjuśrī; out of pity for you, I have come specially to inform you. You should follow my words. From this day forward, your ailment shall also gradually subside." Having spoken, [the celestial being] vanished. From that time on, the Upādhyāya gradually became tranquil.' The Treasury of the True Dharma asked again, 'How much time have you spent on the journey until now?' [Xuanzang] replied, 'Over three years, approaching four.' Since this matched the signs in the former dream, [the elder] comforted and consoled him deeply. Having personally received this prophecy, the Dharma Master was overcome with sorrow and joy; he rose once more to bow in gratitude. When their exchange of sentiments had concluded, he took his leave and withdrew. He was accommodated in the Court of King Bālāditya. After seven days of offerings, he was further granted a superior lodging on the fourth story, with increased provisions. Daily he received one hundred and twenty betel leaves (tāmbūla), twenty areca nuts, twenty nutmegs, one ounce of camphor (drako), and one sheng of the rice for great men; ghee, oil, milk, curd, and candied sugar were all supplied daily in ample sufficiency. The provisions for a single period could not be finished by several people. He was provided with one pure-attendant brāhmaṇa, rode an elephant when going out, had twenty men as escorts, and was exempted from all monastic duties. Among the ten thousand residents and guests in the monastery, those who received this level of provisions numbered only ten, including the Dharma Master. As for what is called 'rice for great men', it is a non-glutinous rice as large as black beans; when cooked, its fragrance can be smelled for more than a hundred paces. Only the country of Magadha has this rice; no other country possesses it. The harvest is also meager; only kings and eminent monks with broad knowledge of the Dharma are permitted to eat it, while others may not; hence it is called 'rice for great men'. His being held in such high esteem during his travels abroad was of this kind everywhere he went. After the Dharma Master had settled in, he went to Rājagṛha to gaze upon and pay homage to the sacred traces, taking several days to complete his visit. Having returned to Nālandā, he requested Dharma Master Śīlabhadra to lecture on the Yogācārabhūmiśāstra; several thousand people listened alongside him. In this way, he listened to the Yogācārabhūmi three times, the Nyāyānusāra once, the Prakaraṇāryavācā, Abhidharmasamuccaya, Nyāyamukha, Śabdavidyā, Pramāṇasamuccaya, and so forth, once each, and the Madhyamakaśāstra and Śataśāstra three times each. As for the Kośa, Vibhāṣā, Ṣaṭpādābhidharma, and the like, he had already finished studying them in Kasmīra and other countries, so here he merely reviewed them to resolve doubts. Thus for five years, sparing neither day nor night, he listened [to lectures]. When he had finished, he went on to the country of Iraṇaparvata to seek out and pay homage to the sacred traces. There was an isolated mountain of extraordinary beauty, on which stood a vihāra containing a sandalwood image of Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva that was exceedingly miraculous: whatever one wished and sought with a sincere mind was always obtained. Fearing that dust and dirt might defile it, the guardians had erected railings ten paces away on all sides; people who scattered flowers to make vows all stood outside the railings and were not permitted inside. Respectfully wishing to pray, the Dharma Master bought various kinds of flowers and strung them into garlands. Coming to the place of the image, he paid homage with utmost sincerity, knelt before the Bodhisattva, and made three vows: 'First, after completing my studies here, may I return safely to my home country—may the flowers rest in the Venerable One's hands. Second, through the merit and wisdom I cultivate, may I be reborn in the Tuṣita Palace to serve Maitreya Bodhisattva; if this is to be fulfilled according to my wish, may the flowers hang on the Venerable One's two arms. Third, the holy teaching states that among sentient beings there is a portion without Buddha-nature; I am currently doubtful and do not know whether it exists or not. If I possess Buddha-nature and my practice can lead to attainment, may the flowers crown the Venerable One's head.' Having finished his prayer, he scattered the flower garlands from afar; all fell in accordance with his words. Seeing his wishes completely fulfilled, his joy was boundless. None of the onlookers failed to show reverence and establish a karmic connection. From there he traveled through various countries further on, going as far as the shores of the Southern Sea, viewing and seeking out sacred traces and inquiring after teachers and companions. Reaching the country of Parvata, there were several eminent monks whose learning and conduct were worthy of esteem; accordingly, he stayed for two years, studying under them the basic Abhidharma of the Saṃmatīya school, the Saṃgrahasatyadarśanaśāstra, the Śāsanatattvaśāstra, and so forth. Returning once more to Nālandā Monastery, after paying his respects to the Treasury of the True Dharma, he went to the place of Lay Master Jayasena on Mount Yaṣṭivana. The teacher was of the Kṣatriya caste; from childhood he loved inner and outer scriptures and fully mastered the five sciences and divination. Living constantly by Mount Yaṣṭivana, he nurtured disciples, taught, and perpetually lectured on Buddhist scriptures. The monks and laypeople who took refuge in him numbered hundreds each day. Kings of various countries came frequently to visit and pay respects, washing his feet and making offerings, and enfeoffed him with cities and towns. The people of the time called him Puyi, which means 'one who eats of a fiefdom'. The Dharma Master studied under him the Vijñaptimātratāsiddhi-viniścayaśāstra, the Ālambanaparīkṣāśāstra, the Nirbhayatāsiddhiśāstra, the Apratiṣṭhitanirvāṇaśāstra, the Dvādaśāṅgapratītyasamutpādaśāstra, the Mahāyānasūtrālaṃkāra, and so forth, and finished hearing the Yogācāra, Hetuvidyā, and so on. Already in the night,

Suddenly, he dreamed that he saw Nālandā Monastery: the courtyards and quarters were desolate and filthy, water buffaloes were tethered everywhere, and no monks remained. The Dharma Master entered from the west gate of Bālāditya Court. On the fourth multistoried pavilion, he saw a golden person whose appearance was dignified and majestic, his bright radiance filling the sky. Pointing afar outside the monastery, he said to the Dharma Master, 'Follow me and look.' He immediately looked out in the direction pointed, and saw villages, towns, woods, and pools all being consumed by fire and turned completely to ashes and embers. The golden person said, 'You should return home early. In this place, in a little over ten years, King Śīlāditya will pass away. India will fall into wilderness and disorder, and evil men will harm one another, just like this land. You ought to know this.' Having spoken, he disappeared. When the Dharma Master awoke, he marvelled and sighed over it, and recounted it to Jayasena. [Jayasena] answered, 'There is no peace in the three realms; how could it not be so? This is an admonition bestowed by a sage; you must not fail to rely on it.' Thus, in all that the Dharma Master did, he was protected and kept in mind by the Bodhisattva: when he was about to set out for India, [the Bodhisattva] informed Śīlabhadra so that he would stay and await him; when he lingered and did not return, [the Bodhisattva] showed impermanence to urge his return. If what he did had not accorded with the holy mind, who could have received such blessings? At the end of the Yonghui era, King Śīlāditya indeed passed away, and India suffered famine and disorder, all just as had been foretold. The envoy of the State, Wang Xuance, witnessed these events. In the days when the Dharma Master was there, he observed that venerable figures of Nālandā Monastery such as Siṃharaśmi had established the doctrine of the Madhyamaka and Śata treatises to refute the tenets of the Yogācāra and the like. The Dharma Master told them, 'When sages compose treatises, they never contradict each other; it is merely that scholars fail to comprehend them.' He thereupon composed the *Hui zong lun* (Treatise on the Harmony of Doctrines) in three thousand verses. From Master Śīlabhadra on down, all who saw it praised it as excellent, and it circulated widely there. Previously, there was an initiation master of a South Indian king named Prajñāgupta, who was versed in the doctrine of the Saṃmatīya school and had composed the *Po dasheng lun* (Treatise Refuting the Mahāyāna) in seven hundred verses. At that time, when King Śīlāditya was on an expedition to quell bandits, the Hīnayāna masters of the country of Oḍra, treasuring this treatise, took it and presented it to the king, requesting that a debate be held against the Mahāyāna. The king consented, and thereupon sent a letter to Nālandā Monastery, ordering that four venerable figures well versed in the Mahāyāna and Hīnayāna doctrines as well as non-Buddhist texts be dispatched to his temporary camp, intending for them to debate the doctrines with the Hīnayāna and non-Buddhists. The Treasury of the True Dharma (Śīlabhadra) then dispatched Sāgaramati, Jñānaprabha, Siṃharaśmi, and the Dharma Master, four persons, to respond to the king’s order. Before they set out, a Lokāyata non-Buddhist came seeking debate, writing forty theses and hanging them upon the monastery gate. The Dharma Master sent for them and set up his counter-theses, summoning the non-Buddhist to debate. After three or four rounds of exchange, the brāhmaṇa was reduced to silence and had nothing to say. There had been an agreement beforehand that the defeated party would have his head severed by way of apology. The non-Buddhist asked to abide by the prior agreement. The Dharma Master said, 'I am a Śramaṇa, a disciple of the Śākya; I must not harm even an insect, much less kill a human being.' The non-Buddhist was overjoyed and asked to serve him for the rest of his life. None among those who heard it failed to offer congratulations. At that time, wishing to go to Oḍra, he sought out that [Saṃmatīya] treatise and examined it, finding several places that raised doubts. He said to the subdued brāhmaṇa, 'Have you ever heard this doctrine?' He replied, 'I have heard it; at that time I was proficient in it.' The Dharma Master had him explain it once, completely grasping its essential purport. He then traced its errors and immediately set forth the Mahāyāna meaning to refute it, composing sixteen hundred verses titled *Zhi e jian lun* (Treatise on the Subjugation of Evil Views). He presented it to Śīlabhadra and the venerable assembly, all of whom praised it as excellent, saying, 'With this penetrating exhaustiveness, what opponent could fail to be subdued?' Having thoroughly mastered their school, the Dharma Master released the subdued brāhmaṇa to go wherever he pleased. The non-Buddhist departed joyfully and went to Eastern India, where he spoke to King Kumāra of the Dharma Master's virtues. The king was greatly delighted to hear of them and sent envoys to invite him. Only after the king's envoys came repeatedly did he set out. At that time he was just intending to return [to China], and his baggage was already packed. The venerable ones and assembly of Nālandā all urged him to stay. The Dharma Master, reflecting that these sūtras and śāstras were somewhat incomplete and that his original intention was to obtain them for dissemination, felt he could not abandon his longstanding aspiration, and firmly refused [to stay]. Thereupon taking his leave, he took the scriptures and images and went to King Kumāra's place. In that country, the Buddha Dharma had never previously been practiced, and most people believed in non-Buddhist brāhmaṇa teachings. When the Dharma Master arrived, dissenting factions gathered like clouds, asking the king to hold a debate to test who would prevail. As soon as the Dharma Master opened his wondrous eloquence, the heterodox followers bent like grass before the wind. The king revered him all the more, humbly inquiring: 'Of the merits of the Buddhas, I pray you show me the cause.' For the king, the Dharma Master praised the Tathāgata's three bodies and their benefit to living beings, and right then composed for him the *San shen lun* (Treatise on the Three Bodies) in three hundred verses. The king rejoiced as never before, receiving it with bowed head and upholding it. At that time, King Śīlāditya, hearing that the Dharma Master was at King Kumāra’s place, said in surprise, 'I repeatedly invited him but he did not come; for what reason is he here?' He sent an envoy to say to King Kumāra, 'Send the Dharma Master of China here.' King Kumāra, knowing Śīlāditya's admiration and longing, ordered an array of twenty thousand elephant-drawn chariots and thirty thousand boats, and the Dharma Master sailed up the Gaṅgā River to proceed to the king's encampment. When he reached the country of Kajangala, the king saw the Dharma Master, bowed his head to both his feet, scattered countless flowers, and finished reciting verses of praise. He then said, 'Your disciple previously sent to invite the Dharma Master; why did you not come?' The Dharma Master replied, 'When I received the command, my studies were not yet finished, so I could not visit the Great King.' The king said, 'The Master has come from the land of China. There they have the musical dance of the Prince of Qin’s Defeat of the Battle Array. Who is the Prince of Qin? What merits does he have that have led to such songs?' The Dharma Master reported, 'The Prince of Qin is the present Son of Heaven of China. In our native land, when we see that a sovereign possesses sagely virtue, able to eradicate violence, curb cruelty, and nourish all living beings, we sing and chant of him. The Prince of Qin is a great sage; for the multitude of common people, he brought order out of chaos, restored peace to the universe, and caused the three luminaries to shine anew. The six directions cherish his benevolence, and therefore there is this song.' The king said, 'Such a sage was indeed sent by Heaven to be the lord of all creatures!' Thereupon, he ushered him into his traveling palace and set out various offerings. The king said, 'I hear that you composed the *Zhi e jian lun*; where is it?' The Dharma Master replied, 'It is here.' The king then sent for it to read, was greatly pleased, and said to his own teachers, 'Your disciple has heard that when the light of the sun comes out, the brilliance of fireflies and candles is stolen away. The doctrine that you, masters, hold precious has been completely refuted by another. Try and see if you can rescue it.'

None of the Hinayāna monks dared to speak. The king said, 'The Master's treatise is truly magnificent! All the masters here have been convinced and submitted to it. I only fear that the Hinayāna and non-Buddhist teachings of the other countries are still clinging to their foolish delusions. I desire to convene an assembly for the Master in Kanyākubja in Central India, summoning the śramaṇas, brāhmaṇas, non-Buddhists, and others of the Five Indias to bring forth and illuminate the Mahāyāna, causing them to turn from the heterodox to the orthodox. Would that not be magnificent?' On that day, an imperial decree was issued, widely announcing the gathering at Kanyākubja to observe the disputation of the Chinese Dharma Master. Setting out at the beginning of winter, they did not reach the assembly grounds until the second month of spring. There were several thousand śramaṇas, brāhmaṇas, non-Buddhists, and men of erudition and broad learning from the four quarters who arrived. The king had beforehand ordered the construction of a hall capable of holding over a thousand persons, inside which sacred images were enshrined and incense, flowers, and music were presented. Once the banquet was laid out and the almsgiving concluded, he invited the Dharma Master to ascend the high seat, set forth the thesis of the treatise, and invited the assembly to challenge it. For eighteen days in all, not a single person dared to question him. The king praised him and bestowed on the Dharma Master thirty thousand silver coins, ten thousand gold coins, and one hundred sets of fine cotton robes. He also ordered high ministers to hold the Dharma Master's kāṣāya and proclaim to the multitude on circuit, saying, 'The Chinese Dharma Master's thesis has triumphed! For eighteen days now, no one has dared to question it; let all be aware!' The multitude rejoiced, and each group conferred an honorific title upon the Dharma Master: the Mahāyāna assembly called him Mahāyānadeva, which means 'God of the Mahāyāna'; the Hinayāna adherents called him Mokṣadeva, which means 'God of Liberation'. Burning incense and scattering flowers, they paid homage and departed. From then on, his virtuous renown resounded far and wide. The assembly having ended, he wished to return home, but the king detained him, asking him to stay to witness the seventy-five-day Great Distribution of Alms. Having witnessed it, he bade farewell to return. The king offered an elephant and tens of thousands of gold and silver coins; the Dharma Master accepted the elephant, but not the money. King Śīlāditya, King Kumāra, and the other kings of the eighteen great states wept as they parted from him. Taking the northern route to return, he braved all kinds of hardships and perils, crossing the Snow Mountains and the Pamir Mountains, passing through more than thirty countries, and reaching Khotan. He sent a memorial to report his request. An imperial edict was sent ordering the King of Khotan to provide plenty of camels and horses. Arriving at Dunhuang, he reached Chang'an in the spring, in the first month of the nineteenth year of Zhenguan. From the Western Regions, he had brought back seven statues, including images depicting the turning of the wheel of the Dharma, six hundred and fifty-seven scriptures and treatises, and one hundred and fifty relics of the Buddha's flesh. On the twenty-fifth day, after delivering the scriptures and statues to the Hongfu Monastery, he had an audience with the Emperor in Luoyang. On the first day of the third month, he returned to the capital by imperial decree, where he forthwith began translating at the Hongfu Monastery and compiling the Record of the Western Regions. By the thirteenth day of the seventh month, in the autumn of the twentieth year, he presented the newly translated scriptures, requested an imperial preface to the scriptures, and presented the Record of the Western Regions. He received a letter in reply written by the divine brush, overflowing with words of highest praise. The imperial decree stated: 'The Dharma Master has from early days distinguished himself by exalted conduct, long rising beyond worldly dust. Sailing the jeweled vessel, he attained the other shore; inquiring into the wondrous Way, he opened the Dharma gates. Broadly expanding the great principles, he washed away all sins. For this reason, when the clouds of compassion were about to roll up, he spread them to overshadow the four voids; when the sun of wisdom was about to grow dim, he brightened it to illuminate the eight extremities. Who could spread and brighten them thus, if not the Dharma Master? We are of shallow learning and clumsy mind; concerning external things, we are still confused; how much more so with the subtle mysteries of the Buddha's teachings—how could we fathom or measure them? What you request as a preface for the scriptures is not something within Our knowledge.' It also stated: 'As for the newly compiled Record of the Western Regions, We shall personally read it.' Addressing Master Xuanzang, [the Emperor wrote thus]. The Master submitted another memorial of gratitude and again requested a preface. In the twenty-second year, when the imperial chariot visited the Yuhua Palace, an imperial edict in the sixth month summoned the Dharma Master. Upon his arrival, he was received with extraordinary courtesy. The Emperor asked in an edict, 'What scriptures or treatises has the Master recently translated?' He replied, 'I have recently translated the Yogācārabhūmiśāstra in one hundred fascicles.' His Majesty said, 'This treatise is vast indeed! Which sage composed it, and what doctrine does it clarify?' He replied, 'The treatise was composed by the Bodhisattva Maitreya and clarifies the doctrine of the seventeen stages.' 'What are the names of the seventeen stages?' The Dharma Master replied with their names and outlined their general purpose. His Majesty was exceedingly pleased. Thereupon, he dispatched an envoy by imperial decree to the capital to fetch the treatise. When the treatise arrived, he personally opened it and was further delighted. He then ordered the relevant offices to transcribe nine copies of the newly translated scriptures and treatises, to be distributed to the nine provinces—including Yong, Luo, Xiang, Yan, Jing, and Yang—so that they might be circulated and spread. The Dharma Master again requested a preface for the scriptures, and this imperial favor was granted. On the fourth day of the eighth month of that year, the preface was completed, comprising altogether seven hundred and eighty words, entitled Preface to the Sacred Teachings of the Tripiṭaka of the Great Tang, to stand as the opening across the beginning of the newly translated scriptures. In the Mingyue Hall, the Hanlin Scholar Shangguan Yi was commanded to read out the composed preface before the assembled officials. Dazzling as rosy clouds and unfolding like brocade, its praise and glory reached the utmost heights. The hundred officials leapt with joy and offered congratulations. The present Emperor, then in the Spring Palace, also composed an Account of the Preface to the Sacred Teachings of the Tripiṭaka, comprising altogether five hundred and seventy words. After the prefaces of the Two Sages were issued, the Dharma Master submitted another memorial expressing gratitude for the imperial favor. The reply stated: 'Our talents fall short of the jade scepters, and Our words are embarrassed by broad erudition. As for the inner classics, We are especially unversed. The preface composed yesterday was thoroughly clumsy and base. We only feared that Our brush and ink would defile the golden tablets, like displaying rubble in a forest of jewels. Suddenly receiving your letter, We have mistakenly accepted your excessive praise. Reflecting upon Ourselves and examining Our thoughts, Our face grows all the redder. Our virtue is not worth commending; you have vainly troubled yourself to express gratitude.' The Dharma Master submitted another memorial of repeated thanks. The imperial reply stated: 'In the past, We did not read scriptures and lacked talent and wisdom. Suddenly composing a preface for the treatises, We have rather defiled the scripture texts. Having fully read your incoming words, We find Ourselves wrongfully praised and adorned. Ashamed to encounter empty praise, We feel only genuine embarrassment.' From this point forward, monastics and laity throughout the four quarters danced with hands and feet, raising their voices in song; praises within and without spread throughout the universe before a single morning had passed. The clouds of compassion overshadowed again, and the sun of wisdom shone anew. Those taking refuge gathered like turning waves and gathering mists. Indeed, the ruler's transformation of those below was like the wind bending the grass. The Emperor thereupon bestowed an ink-cloud patched kāṣāya robe of exquisite quality, unmatched in ancient or modern times, valued at ten thousand pieces of gold. Furthermore, he ordered temples and shrines throughout the realm to ordain five persons each. In the tenth month of winter, the Master accompanied the imperial retinue back to the capital and was housed separately at the Hongfa Court by the Northern Gate. An order was given to construct the Ci'en Monastery, and in the northwestern corner of the monastery a Scripture Translation Cloister was built. By imperial decree, the Dharma Master was transferred there to undertake translation, and he was provided with fifty disciples.