續高僧傳 17.16

Śramaṇa Zhiyi, whose courtesy name was De'an and whose secular surname was Chen, was a man of Yingchuan. When the Jin dynasty moved its capital, his family came to lodge at Huarong in Jingzhou. He was the second son of Qizu, Duke of Mengyang and Cavalier Attendant-in-Ordinary under the Liang dynasty. His mother, Lady Xu, dreamed that five-colored incense smoke coiled and encircled her bosom. When she wished to brush it away, she heard someone say: "A karmic connection from previous lives is entrusted to the royal path; when good fortune and virtue arrive of themselves, why cast them away?" She also dreamed of swallowing a white mouse, and this occurred two or three times. Finding it strange, she divined about it. The diviner said: "It is an omen of a white dragon." When the night of his birth arrived, the interior of the room shone brightly, and only after two nights did the light cease. Within and without, all were delighted, lavishly setting out cauldrons and meat platters to celebrate with one another. But the fires died out and the broth went cold, so that the affair could not be brought to completion. Suddenly two monks knocked at the door and said: "Excellent! Perfumed by this child's virtue, he will surely leave the household." Having spoken, they vanished. The guests marveled at it. Remembering the earlier numinous auspicious sign, the neighbors called him Wangdao ("Royal Path"); also taking the later omen into account, they further named him Guangdao ("Luminous Path"). Hence, in his youth these two names were established, and he was addressed by them interchangeably. His eyes had double pupils; though his parents concealed this, others already knew. Moreover, whenever he lay down he would clasp his hands together, and whenever he sat he would invariably face west. By the age of twelve, nothing improper passed his mouth; whenever he saw an image he would bow, and whenever he met a monk he was bound to pay reverence. At seven years old, he delighted in going to saṅghārāmas. The monks were astonished at his disposition and intentions, and orally taught him the "Samantamukha Chapter"; matching it at the first hearing, he mastered it in a single reading. His parents restrained and forbade him from reciting it further, yet his heart was sorrowful and yearning, and suddenly, naturally, he penetrated the rest of the text and phrases. Was this not the extending to the present of roots of virtue planted long ago in past karma? When he reached the age of fifteen, the Liang dynasty's Chengsheng era arrived, and Emperor Yuan met his downfall. Crossing north to Xiazhou, he relied upon his maternal uncle; yet he was brilliant, perceptive, and thoroughly awakened, with a demeanor warm and respectful. He searched for renowned masters, hoping to rely on them to depart from mundane existence. At the age of eighteen, he turned to the śramaṇa Faxu of Guoyuan Temple in Xiangzhou and went forth from the household. Faxu conferred the ten precepts upon him and guided him in the monastic decorum. He then brought him north to visit Vinaya Master Huikuang. Spreading the scriptures on the ground, he fully received his guidance and instruction. He subsequently secluded himself on Mount Daxian, reciting the Lotus Sūtra, the Immeasurable Meanings Sūtra, the Meditation on Samantabhadra Sūtra, and others; before twenty days had passed, he had mastered all three works. He also visited Dhyāna Master Huisi on Mount Dasu in Guangzhou to receive instruction in the mind contemplation. Huisi had in turn followed the Way under Master Jiu, and Jiu had received the Dharma from Master Zui; the spiritual stages of these three men could not be fathomed. Huisi frequently sighed and said: "Long ago, on Vulture Peak, we listened together to the Lotus Sūtra; pursued by past karmic affinities, you have now come once more!" He immediately revealed the Samantabhadra bodhimaṇḍa to him and expounded the four comfortable practices. Zhiyi then practiced the Lotus samādhi on this mountain. After only three nights, when he recited up to the "Chapter on the Bodhisattva Bhaiṣajyarāja" and his mind dwelled upon the ascetic practices, upon reaching the phrase "this is true vigor," understanding and awakening arose. He saw himself together with Master Huisi at Vulture Peak in the seven-jeweled pure land, listening to the Buddha preach the Dharma. Therefore Huisi said: "Had it not been for you, it could not have been sensed; had it not been for me, it could not have been recognized. This is the preliminary expedient of the Lotus samādhi." Zhiyi also entered Mount Baisha in Xizhou, entering contemplation as before; whenever he had doubts about a scripture, he would invariably see Huisi come secretly to explain and resolve them. Thereafter Huisi frequently had him lecture in his stead, and those who heard him were won over. Only regarding the three samādhis and the wisdom of the three contemplations did he consult and verify with Huisi; for everything else, he left the judgment and interpretation to Zhiyi, never paying it any heed. Huisi personally held a ruyi scepter, sitting and observing among the audience, and said to the students: "This is my Dharma son; I regret only that the power of his samādhi is still slight." Thereupon the master and disciple looked upon each other with new eyes, and their renown was heard near and far. When his studies were completed and he went to bid farewell, Huisi said: "You have karmic ties with the state of Chen; going there, you will surely bring benefit." After Huisi traveled to Nanyue, Zhiyi proceeded to Jinling, where, together with Faxi and over thirty others, he first propagated the methods of dhyāna at Waguan Temple. The Vice Director of the Right Xu Ling, the Minister of Personnel Mao Xi, and others—prominent figures of that enlightened age whose learning integrated both Buddhist and Confucian traditions—all received his dhyāna wisdom and transmitted the fragrant Dharma, joyfully and reverently honoring him as an object of universal admiration. Bhadanta Zhibian of Changgan Temple invited him to stay in Songxi, and Seng-huang of Tiangong Temple asked him to reside in the Buddha Cave; because his propagation of the Way and his practice moved others, the luminaries of the age all came to welcome him. Zhiyi acted according to their capacities, and they were immediately awakened. Jingshao of Baima Temple, Zhiwen of Fengcheng Temple, Huiming of the Dhyāna Assembly, as well as elder bhadantas of the Liang dynasty such as Dharma Master Daren—the eminent stream of that era and voices of renown throughout Jiangbiao—all abandoned their previous lecturing to open the gate of dhyāna, leading their students to ask for the ferry and seek passage. Huirong of the Cave of Yu, who resided at Zhuangyan Temple, whose Dao straddled the Wu and Kuaiji regions, acclaimed in his generation as a "storehouse of doctrine" and whose eloquence was called a cascading torrent, came specifically to pose questions upon hearing of Zhiyi preaching the Dharma. His numerous challenges and inquiries were all profound and abstruse; haughty and self-satisfied, he raised his eyebrows and waved his fan, but the fan dropped to the ground. Zhiyi answered both the principles and phenomena, melting and clearly dispelling his objections. Rong said: "The power of meditative absorption cannot be challenged!" At that time the śramaṇa Faxui patted Rong on the back and said: "The doctrinal dragon of former days has now become a submissive deer! Since your fan has dropped to the ground, how will you hide your shame?" Rong said: "Belittling the opponent led to losing the advantage, yet he should not be trifled with." For eight full years he lectured on the Dazhidulun to bring discipline to all who came to learn, and next expounded the gate of dhyāna to purify the ocean of their minds. Whether speaking or remaining silent, he constantly longed for the forests and marshes. He then dreamed of myriad layers of craggy precipices where clouds and sun hung half suspended; at their side was a boundless blue sea, vast and clear below. He also saw a monk waving his hand and stretching out his arm down to the foot of the slope, pulling Zhiyi up the mountain, and so forth. Zhiyi made known to his disciples what he had seen in his dream. All said: "This is Mount Tiantai in Kuaiji! It is where sages and worthies have entrusted themselves. In the past, Sengguang, Daoyou, Falan, and Tanmi—all the heroic and accomplished figures of the Jin and Song dynasties—dwelt there." Thereupon, together with Huibian and over twenty others, bearing the Way he journeyed south to retire into this mountain. Previously, a monk from Qingzhou named Dingguang had long resided on this mountain for forty years, cultivating both meditative absorption and wisdom; he was indeed a divine man. Two years before Zhiyi arrived, he foretold to the mountain folk: "A great spiritual friend will come to join us. You should plant beans, brew sauce, weave cattails into mats, and build additional dwellings to await him." It happened that Prince Shixing of the Chen dynasty was leaving to garrison Dongting, and the court ministers gave him a farewell banquet. He turned his carriage back to Waguan Temple to converse with Zhiyi; once the profound mysteries were proclaimed, the noble lords yielded their hearts, heaping up offerings like mountains and bowing down with deep reverence. Zhiyi then sighed and said: "Yesterday I dreamed of meeting fierce robbers; today they manifest as these soft thieves! As a hemp rope cuts to the bone, I recall dragging my tail in the mud." He then dismissed and thanked his disciples, saying: "I have heard that shooting in the dark hits the mark upon the release of the bowstring."

"How do we know this? Ignorance is darkness; the lips and tongue are the bow; the mind's thoughts are like the string; voice and sound are like arrows. Through the long night they are discharged in vain, with nothing realized. Furthermore, the Dharma-doors are like a mirror, reflecting shapes whether square or round as they will. Formerly at Waguan Temple, forty people practiced dhyāna sitting, and half entered the Dharma-door. Now, out of two hundred practicing dhyāna sitting, only ten attain the Dharma. After this, those who take refuge in the lineage have doubled, yet those who truly grasp the Dharma are few. For what reason is this? It can well be understood. In pursuing my own practice and teaching, each may follow whatever suits them; but I must follow my own purpose." Thereupon he went to Tiantai. When he arrived at that mountain and met [Ding]guang, he conveyed his deep delight. Guang said, "Great spiritual friend, do you remember my waving my hand from the mountain summit years ago to summon you?" Zhiyi was astonished and knew that the portent of his dream had indeed come to pass. This was in the autumn, the ninth month, of the seventh year of the Taijian reign of the Chen [575 CE]. They also heard the sound of bells filling the valley, and the assembly all found it wondrous. Guang said, "The bell is summoning those with karmic affinity; you shall dwell here." Zhiyi then chose a dwelling on an auspicious site, located to the north of where Guang lived, south of Mount Folong, at the source of Luoxi. It was peaceful, spacious, and well-suited for seeking the truth; the ground was flat and the springs pure, so he lingered and stayed there. Suddenly three men appeared, wearing black caps and crimson garments, holding a written request, saying, "You may perform circumambulation here." Thereupon he initially erected a thatched hermitage and planted pine trees and fruit trees. Within a few years, buildings expanded one after another, turning into a thoroughfare of gathering. Guang said, "For now, settle here as appropriate. When the country is pacified (Guoqing) and the three realms are brought under a single rule, an eminent person will erect a temple for the dhyāna master, and halls and buildings will fill the mountain." At that time, none could comprehend his words. Later, Zhiyi practiced solitary, quiet dhūta on Huading Peak to the north of the temple. A violent gale uprooted trees, and thunder clapped and roared. Mountain goblins appeared by the thousands, each with a hundred shapes, spitting fire and shrieking in a terrifying display beyond description. Zhiyi subdued his mind and rested in forbearance, serene and detached from self. Then he suffered from agony and pain in body and mind, as though scorched by fire. He also saw his deceased parents resting their heads on his knees, weeping and pleading for pity in their distress. Zhiyi again relied on the forbearance of the Dharma, remaining unmoving as a mountain. As a result, the phenomena caused by both harsh and alluring conditions were extinguished. Suddenly a spiritual monk from the Western Regions arrived and told him, "Subduing the enemy and conquering adversity may truly be called valor." (The text is extensive and is not fully recorded.) Emperor Xuan of the Chen issued an imperial decree stating: "The dhyāna master is an outstanding champion of the Buddha's Dharma, the authority revered by the masters of our time. He instructs both religious and lay, and is the hope of our realm. It is fitting to allocate the tax revenues of Shifeng County to support the expenses of his community, and to exempt two households of commoners from taxes to provide firewood and water. Tiantai Mountain shall be named Anle County." Yuan Zixiong of Chen Commandery held deep faith in the correct Dharma. Every summer he would regularly lecture on the Vimalakīrtinirdeśa Sūtra. Suddenly three flights of jeweled steps were seen descending from the sky, and several dozen Indic monks descended the steps, entered the hall to pay homage, and, holding censers in their hands, circumambulated Zhiyi three times. After a long while, they vanished. Xiong and the entire assembly saw this together, marveling with cries that stirred the mountain. His spiritual resonance and practice were all of this nature. Bozhi, the Prince of Yongyang, went forth to administer Wuxing, and together with his kin, went to the mountain to request the precepts. He also instituted a seven-night Vaipulya repentance rite. By day the prince administered state affairs, and by night he practiced meditation. Zhiyi said to his disciple Zhiyue, "I wish to urge the prince to cultivate merit further to avert disaster; would that be permissible?" Yue replied, "The prince's officers are not longtime associates; they will surely waver in their opinions." Zhiyi said, "To put an end to the world's slander and suspicion is also a good thing." Shortly thereafter, while out hunting, the prince fell from his horse and was near death. Only then did he understand Zhiyi's intention; Zhiyi personally led the assembly in performing the Avalokiteśvara repentance ritual. Soon after, the prince regained slight consciousness, sat leaning against an armrest, and saw an Indic monk holding a censer come straight forward to ask after his illness. The prince broke into a sweat and could not answer. The monk then circumambulated the prince once, and his pain ceased entirely. Thereupon the prince personally composed a vow stating: "Looking up with reverence to the Tiantai ācārya, whose virtue equals Dao'an and Huiyuan, and whose Path surpasses Mingguang and Huayou. Near and far thirst for him, and holding their khakkharas they gather like clouds. He continues the declining lineage of the Semblance Dharma to rescue the benighted, and reveals the radiant light of the sun of wisdom to save this decadent age. Moreover, he traverses the Dharma-doors and thoroughly masters the garden of dhyāna; the bonds of conditioned phenomena are already cast off, and the forbearance of the unproduced has become manifest before him. I, your disciple, am tossed by the karmic winds and sunk in the waters of attachment; although I taste the joy of the Dharma, I cannot dispel my unenlightened mind; in vain do I admire the bliss of dhyāna, while ultimately retaining scattered and fluctuating thoughts. The solar chariot races along, and the reins of Yihe do not pause; the lunar mirror revolves, and the form of Heng'e is hard to detain. In parting and meeting, words can hardly express my sighs. My love and reverence for the Dharma flow on endlessly. I vow in lifetime after lifetime to encounter the Tiantai ācārya, ever cultivating offerings just as Jñānaprabha served the Tathāgata Jñānābhibhū, or as Bhaiṣajyarāja had an audience with the Samyaksaṃbuddha Jaladharagarjitaghoṣasusvaranakṣatrarājasaṃkusumitābhijña; whether in Sukhāvatī or Tuṣita, all are swept into the One Vehicle..." (and so forth). Such was the deep faith and reverence he commanded from royalty. Thereupon his transformation reached the seacoast, and the Dharma governance moved Min and Ou. Those presenting doubts and requesting instruction daily climbed up to the mountain seats. The Chen Emperor wished to pay homage in person, and prepared to present his respects. He asked his gathered ministers, "Who among the followers of Śākya is the most renowned?" Chen Xuan memorialized, "The dhyāna master of Waguan has virtue excelling the wind and frost, and a dhyāna mirror deep as the ocean. Formerly in the capital, he was the model for the worthy; now he treads loftily on Tiantai, and the Dharma-clouds cast their shade eastward. May Your Majesty summon him to return to the capital, so that both the monastic and lay communities may receive his grace." The Emperor then issued imperial decrees in repeated succession summoning him to enter. Zhiyi, regarding the service to the Dharma as weightier than demeaning his own person, declined. Later, due to earnest remonstrance from the Prince of Yongyang, another imperial decree was issued. In all, seven messengers came before and after, all carrying imperial letters in the Emperor's own hand. Zhiyi, considering that the propagation of the Path depends on human beings and the ruler serves as the patron of the Dharma, finally departed for the capital. He was welcomed into the Eastern Hall of the Taiji Palace and requested to lecture on the Dazhidu lun. By imperial command, boys driving goat-drawn carts led the way before him, and the Secretarial Attendants escorted him up the steps. The protocol and rites were entirely modeled on the precedent of the National Preceptor, Ācārya Guan. When the ruler of Chen arrived at the Dharma assembly, the hundred civil officials all paid homage; hearing what had rarely or never been heard before, they honored the Dharma and accepted the Path. An imperial decree was immediately issued to establish a dhyāna assembly at the Lingyao Temple. Students gathered once more, forming a dense and formidable congregation. Decrees were repeatedly issued summoning him to lecture on the Renwang jing at the Taiji Palace, with the Son of Heaven attending in person. The Scribe-Director (Saṅgha-pradhāna) Huixuan, the Controller of the Saṅgha (Saṅgha-karaṇa) Huikuang, and eminent masters of the capital all raised tremendous difficulties. Zhiyi fielded their questions and gave replies, broadly opening the gates of the Dharma. Xuan, holding a censer, congratulated him, saying, "In more than ten state vegetarian feasts, I myself have presided over four lectures. Dividing texts and analyzing meanings, I thought I had reached their core; but today, as the sun rises and the stars recede, witnessing true skill, I realize my own clumsiness." Such high renown and honor could hardly be surpassed. Yet, in the region south of the Yangtze, Dharma debates had always been contentious and lacking in accord.

When Zhiyi ascended the Dharma seat and took his place, he was filled with solemn dignity, causing the thousand-branched candelabrum to shine serenely for seven nights; testing one's mind against events, this was indeed the power of Zhiyi. Later, he departed to dwell at Guangyao Monastery, where he propagated both dhyāna and wisdom; the whole city flocked after him, intently leaning forward and attentively listening. The Ruler of the Chen issued an imperial decree of gratitude from the Guangde Hall, saying: 'We now look up to you and entrust the Buddha-dharma to your charge; we also hope you will guide our shortcomings.' At that time, when an inspection and registration of monks and nuns was ordered, those without registry numbered in the tens of thousands. The court discussed the matter and declared that all who failed the examinations on the scriptures should be made to leave the clerical path. Zhiyi submitted a memorial remonstrating: 'Devadatta recited sixty thousand verses of scriptures yet could not escape hell, while Śuddhipanthaka recited but a single four-line verse and attained the fruit of an arhat. In discussing the Way in earnest, how could it depend merely on copious recitation?' The Ruler of the Chen was greatly pleased and immediately halted the investigation and screening. Thus, that ten thousand persons remained as monks was due entirely to Zhiyi's single remonstrance. Later, because Lingyao Monastery was cramped and narrow, he sought a secluded and quiet place. Suddenly, he dreamed of a person, flanked by an austere retinue, who announced his name: 'I am Guanda, and I request that you dwell at Sanqiao.' Zhiyi said: 'Guanda was Emperor Wu of Liang’s Dharma name; does Sanqiao not refer to Guangzhai Monastery?' Thereupon, he moved his residence there. In the fourth month of that year, the Ruler of the Chen visited the monastery to practice the great almsgiving, and Zhiyi preached the Sūtra of the Benevolent King. The emperor rose from among the assembly to bow with utmost deference, and from the crown prince down, all venerated his precepts and standards, thereby receiving his Dharma teaching. The text said: 'Looking up to you, your transformative guidance is limitless and rescues sentient beings in accord with their capacities; safeguarding the king of the state, guiding gods and men, your radiant brightness shines forth as you live as our teacher and friend. A bhikṣu entering the dream, this auspicious portent has long been manifest; the upādhyāya arriving in solemn bearing, the virtue of the high seat shines brightly here. Therefore, we fix our aspirations on the ten stages and thirst for the four reliances; among both the Great and Small Vehicles, the inner and outer teachings, honouring the teacher and esteeming the Way has always been noble. We humbly hope you will graciously guide us; may this bond tied through successive lifetimes fulfill our original vow, daily increasing. Now we reverently invite you to be our Bodhisattva Precept Master.' Zhiyi then took the incense in hand, and tears fell from beneath his eyelids. Thus his virtue moved the sovereign of men, and he yielded to grant the request. When Jinling fell in defeat, he took up his staff and went to the region of Jing and Xiang, halting on the road at Pencheng. He dreamed of an old monk who said: 'The auspicious image of Tao Kan respectfully invites your protection.' He immediately went to rest at Mount Kuang, and upon seeing Huiyuan’s painted image, its spiritual resonance was verified, exactly as in his dream. Soon after, Xunyang rebelled and the monastic buildings were burned, but this mountain alone was entirely untouched by disturbance; this was truly through the power of protecting the image. Later, he concealed his traces in the cloudy peaks, having achieved his purpose. It happened that Prince Yang Guang was governing the feudatory domain, holding supreme military command over Huaihai; hearing of Zhiyi's reputation and holding his virtue in reverence, his admiration and attentiveness continued unabated. Desiring to observe a set of precepts and honour him as his master, he repeatedly sent letters with requests. Zhiyi first set forth his meager virtue, next yielded to famous monks, and finally recommended his fellow disciples; when thrice declining proved to no avail, he made four requests, stating: 'First, although I am fond of learning dhyāna, my practice does not conform to the Dharma; my years have already reached their twilight, and I merely sit upon a rope-bed; searching my chest and examining my heart, I am a dhyāna master in name only. Flattery belongs to others, and I abhor hearing praise beyond reality. I pray that you will not expect dhyāna attainments from me. Second, I was born on the frontier and grew up amid upheaval; my person is ignorant of proper school etiquette, and my mouth is clumsy in social amenities; the abstruse realm beyond the world has long not been my lot, and in mundane restraints, I have nothing commendable; although I wish to be cautious, my rustic bluntness offends others. I pray you will not reprove my lack of decorum. Third, I genuinely wish to transmit the lamp to repay the Dharma's kindness; if my person must serve as a model of the precepts, my departures and advances must be weighed heavily; if departures and advances are heavy, transmitting the lamp will be neglected; if departures and advances are light, censure and suspicion will ensue; to avoid suspicion and preserve my personal peace is not as good as propagating the Dharma even at the cost of life. I pray that you permit me to act for the sake of the Dharma, and not censure my mobility. Fourth, for more than thirty years, living amid waters and rocks has become second nature; now that the royal governance is unified and the Buddha-dharma flourishes once more, I have been mistakenly summoned in my unworthiness to receive this gracious transformation; internally, I shall exhaust my failing strength to repay external patronage; but if thoughts of the hills and gorges arise, I pray that I may peck and drink as my heart pleases to finish out my remaining years.' Only when these four wishes were granted did he respond to the gracious decree. The Prince of Jin, yearning for the pure precepts, assented to his wishes, and personally composed an invitation to receive the precepts, saying: 'I, the disciple, having inherited accumulated good deeds, was born into the imperial household; early instructed by family teachings, I have long been steeped in instruction; now that blessing has arrived, I have recently awakened to the profound potential. Ashamed to struggle along the narrow path, I hope to roam freely in the Great Vehicle; laughing at resting in the Conjured City, I vow to sail in the boat to the other shore. Among the ten thousand practices of a Bodhisattva, the goodness of the precepts comes first; of the Bodhisattva's ten receivings, dedicated observance is supreme. Just as a building must first have foundations, building empty edifices in the void will in the end never succeed; the Confucians, Daoists, and Buddhists alike depend on refinement; without rules and models, to whom could one look up? Truly, though the Benevolent One is honoured as our upādhyāya and Mañjuśrī secretly acts as ācārya, one must rely on a human master to visibly transmit the holy lineage; proceeding from near to far, there is resonance and immediate access; Sadāprarudita gave all his marrow to Dharmodgata, and Sudhana gave up his body in the Dharmadhātu; the sūtras contain clear passages, and these are not mere empty fabrications. Deeply trusting the Buddha's words, we are fortunate to follow the guidance of the times. The Dhyāna Master is a dragon and elephant of the Buddha-dharma, whose precept jewel is perfectly pure and whose samādhi water is profoundly clear; from tranquility, wisdom is generated, establishing unhindered eloquence; putting others first and himself last, modesty has become your nature; your renown is heard far and wide, known by all. This is why I, the disciple, have turned my sincere heart toward you from afar, sending boats to welcome you; I often worried that unfavorable conditions would meet with delays. But once the Master arrived, my mental path opened wide; as when clouds and mists are parted, my defilements melted away. Today, the twenty-third day of the eleventh month in the eleventh year of the Kaihuang reign, at the Jincheng government headquarters in Yangzhou, we have established an assembly of a thousand monks to respectfully invite you to confer the Bodhisattva precepts. The precept is called filial piety and is also called restraint; through skill-in-means and wisdom, it returns to the supreme source; forming a great adornment, it accords with the Tathāgata’s compassion and universalizes the love of all Buddhas, regarding the four kinds of born beings equally as an only child.' Thereupon, in the private quarters, he personally passed the precept incense and conferred the rules and Vinaya precepts, saying: 'The Great Being takes deliverance and far-reaching salvation as his principle; reality should accord with the name, and the meaning is not trivial; now your Dharma name shall be Zongchi (Dhāraṇī), representing the way of comprehensive inclusion.' The Prince bowed his head to receive this teaching and said: 'The Great Master's dhyāna and wisdom blend internally, guiding us with the moisture of the Dharma; I presume to offer you the title Zhizhe.' From then on, dedicating himself to his master’s guidance, he made daily progress in the profound mysteries. The more than sixty items of offerings received were immediately given away to the two fields of compassion and reverence, with the prayer that blessings and merit would increase abundantly to prosper the imperial family and state. Zhiyi then wished to return to his former mountain forest, but the prince still earnestly requested him to stay. Zhiyi said: 'We previously made a clear agreement; an affair cannot have two contradictory courses.' He immediately brushed his sleeves and rose; the prince dared not insist again, but with clasped palms escorted him to the city gate, where Zhiyi turned and said:

Guarding the state is not a light duty, and religious affairs thus became separated. Fortunately, we observed the Buddhist transformation, cherishing its vast protection in our hearts.” The Prince paid homage, gazing until his sight was exhausted, and returned holding back tears. [Zhiyi] then sailed upstream against the current of the Jiang, returning to search out the ridges of Mount Kuang. Leading his disciples in the practice of circumambulation, he repeatedly evoked auspicious signs. Border monks of the Hundred Yue who heard of his repute came one after another in succession. He then went up to his homeland in Zhugong in order to repay the kindness of his birthplace. Monastics and layfolk craned their necks; old and young led one another by the hand. The crowds at the precepts platform and the lecture seats approached nearly ten thousand. Thereupon, he founded a vihāra at Yuquan Mountain in Dangyang County. An imperial order bestowed an inscription for the monastery, naming it Yiyin. In the past, that place had been solely wild and precipitous, violent with divine beasts and snakes; after the monastery was founded, it was happily free from distress. In that spring, there was a severe drought. The common people all considered it the wrath of the spirits. Zhiyi went to the source of the spring and led the assembly in reciting the sūtras, whereupon he moved clouds to rise and rain to pour down; the false slander perished of itself. The Area Commander-in-Chief, Duke of Yiyang Wang Ji, arrived at the mountain to pay homage, trembling and sweating with unease. When he came out, he said: “I have repeatedly been through military battle lines, growing braver when facing peril; I have never been so terrified as today!” In that year, the Prince of Jin again sent a personal letter inviting him to return. The words read: “Your disciple has had great fortune to have wrongly received instruction from a master; for immeasurable eons, I have relied entirely on opening to awakening. Physical and mental non-manifestation was reverently received in years past; though the body is coarse and porous, the mind protects the bright pearl. With the water of samādhi and the factors of dhyāna, one shuts out distractions and returns to stillness. Bearing the state and garrisoning a vassal domain, being a subject and being a son, how could one still the four conditions and enter samādhi? Those who sever bonds in the flash of lightning are very numerous; people of liberation through wisdom have not a few companions. Today, I wish to submit my mind to wisdom and severance, leading the way in the famous teachings, sailing forever on the stream of Dharma while simultaneously governing the state. I do not know whether my base stagnation can be opened and transformed, whether the master’s dignity and exalted guidance can condescend, whether the shallow roots of past lifetimes can sprout forth, and whether the Bodhisattva responding to the capacity can adapt to the time. The book says: ‘Human life rests on three [father, master, and sovereign]; one serves them as one.’ How much more so when probing deeply into the Śākya scriptures without following a master? My humble words today fully pour out my pure sincerity; as accomplishing this matter is weighty, I beg you to dispense with decorative refusals.” Zhiyi replied in a letter, saying: “Wrongly accepting the lack of candidates, I simulated the role of master; considering this mediocrity and insignificance, it was untimely granted. How much less can I match the loftiness of your present command? To merely wish to hesitate would certainly go against your profound trust.” The Prince reiterated his request, saying: “In learning, value lies in following a master; in affairs, one leaves judgment to public opinion. Searching through the Dharma realm, the settling of the mind has its place. Reverently reflecting that you have long planted good roots, which could not be attained in a single lifetime, you first arose through study and suddenly encountered the sacred realm. The master of Nanyue prophesied that you were foremost in preaching the Dharma, unsurpassed by anyone. Dhyāna Master Zhao arrived and related this matter in detail; at that time my heart was overjoyed, marking my sincere devotion. In the past, when the Zhizhe entered the Chen court, that state tested you with examination: at the great gathering at Waguan, debates arose like the tips of spears. Ronggong was sharp-tongued but his horns were broken first; the two Qiongs followed in his tracks and barely achieved a truce. Master Ren praised you with sighs, exclaiming that it was rare. When your disciple first reverently invited you, you condescended to ascend the seat of fearlessness and resolved difficulties like a flowing stream; I witnessed this with my own ears and eyes, and the entire assembly gazed up in admiration. Before this, none in Jing and Chu failed to submit. ‘Without dhyāna there is no wisdom’ is verified by the golden mouth [of the Buddha]. Comparing the discussions of other commentators, the Zhizhe harmonizes them with distinct stages, just as many streams return to the great ocean; only this all-encompassing grasp captures the Buddha’s intent. I wish only that the unattained be brought to attain, the uncrossed be brought to cross, your joyful discourse be unceasing, and the gift of the Dharma be inexhaustible.” [Zhiyi] thereupon complied with him and reappeared, being ordered to compose a commentary on the Vimalakīrtinirdeśa Sūtra. Liu Guyan of Hedong and Xu Yi of Donghai, both men of talent and illustrious lineage, served to provide literary phrasing; sealed in a precious treasury, the Prince personally received and upheld it. Later, Consort Xiao fell grievously ill, and medical treatments had no effect. The Prince dispatched the Opening-Office Liu Guyan and others with a letter pleading for her life, wishing to save her from the disease. Zhiyi again led his companions in establishing a fast for seven days, performing the Golden Light Repentance. When it reached the sixth night, a strange bird suddenly descended and flew into the fasting altar, writhed and died, and shortly afterwards flew away. The grunt of a pig was also heard, and the assembly all witnessed it together. Zhiyi said: “With the manifestation of these signs, the consort will surely recover. The bird dying and reviving indicates that the coffin lid was about to close, yet she rises again. The pig’s faint cry displays that the blessings of the fast are multiplying.” When the next day arrived, the illness was indeed cured. The Prince rejoiced greatly. At that time, [Zhiyi] happened to enter the court, then returned to Mount Tiantai and personally led the dhyāna assembly, again performing the former repentance. He then made a vow, saying: “If I can benefit the Triratna, may I be granted these remaining years; if I am to live in vain, may I swiftly follow the transformation [of death].” Not long after, he addressed the assembly, saying: “I shall end my life in this place. The reason I repeatedly wished to return to the mountain is that I have now received a dark notice: my strength is about to be exhausted. After my death, lay me to rest on the southwest peak; pile stones around the corpse, plant pines to cover the hollow, and erect a white stūpa so that those who see it will give rise to the aspiration [for awakening].” He also said: “The traveling merchant left behind gold, and the physician departed leaving behind medicine. Though I am not clever, the mad sons are pitiable.” He then dictated the Guanxin lun (Treatise on Contemplating the Mind), which was composed in an abbreviated draft without any polishing. He ordered the scholar Zhiyue to go sweep and wash at Shicheng Monastery and die there before the Buddha. A bed was placed against the eastern wall facing the west; he recited the names of Amitābha Buddha, Prajñā, and Avalokiteśvara. He also instructed that many lamps and incense be lit, and called for the three robes, bowl, and staff. Taking the personal implements close to his body and dividing them into two portions, one was offered to Maitreya and one was reserved for the karmavācanā. When someone wished to offer medicine, he replied: “Can medicine banish disease? Can it detain remaining years? Disease does not unite with the body: what is there for medicine to banish? Years do not unite with the mind: what is there for medicine to detain?” Zhixi went to him, and he said: “What more is there to hear? What more is there to say within the Treatise on Contemplating the Mind? Complicated medicines are merely a burden and trouble to others.” When he was asked to partake of the fasting meal, he replied: “Fasting is not merely pacing the shadow; being able to be without contemplation and without conditions is true fasting. In life I was wearied by the vessel of poison; in death I rejoice in returning to rest. The worldly characteristics being like this, they are not worthy of much lamentation.” He also brought out his composed Commentary on the Vimalakīrtinirdeśa Sūtra along with a rhinoceros-horn ruyi and a lotus-flower incense burner, and gave them to the Prince of Jin as a parting legacy along with a seven-sheet letter. Its text was exceptionally comprehensive and its literary elegance was lofty, entrusting him with the Great Dharma. At the end, he noted in the margin of the document: “The ruyi and the incense burner were from the Great King; I return them to bid you a reverent farewell, so that the fragrance of your virtue may be spread forever and you may long preserve your wishes.” He then ordered the title of the Saddharmapuṇḍarīka Sūtra to be chanted. Zhiyi praised and introduced it, saying: “It is the parent of the Dharma gates, from which wisdom and understanding are born; the origin and traces are exceedingly vast, wondrous and difficult to fathom. Today the axe is set down and the strings are severed!” He also listened to the Sukhāvatīvyūha Sūtra to the end, and then praised it, saying: “The forty-two vows adorn the Pure Land; with flowered ponds and jeweled trees, it is easy to go there, yet there is no one, etc.” He also called for perfumed water to rinse his mouth.

[Zhiyi] expounded the ten suchnesses, the four unproduced [dhammas], the ten dharma realms, the three contemplations, the four teachings, the four immeasurables, the six perfections, and so forth. When someone asked about his spiritual level, he replied: 'You are lazy in planting good roots. To ask about another’s merit is like a blind man asking about milk or a lame man asking the way, and so on. If I had not led the assembly, I would certainly have purified the six senses. Having damaged myself for the sake of others, I am only at the stage of the five grades [of disciples]. All my teachers and companions, following Avalokiteśvara and Mahāsthāmaprāpta, have all come to welcome me. The Prātimokṣa is what you should venerate; the four kinds of samādhi are your clear guides.' He also instructed the karmadāna: 'When a person’s life is about to end, hearing the sound of bells and sounding stones increases their right mindfulness. It should only be prolonged and sustained, ending only when the breath is completely extinguished. Why wait until the body is cold to strike the sounding stone again? Worldly weeping and wearing mourning garments must not be done. Let everyone be silent; I am about to depart.' Having spoken, he sat upright as if in dhyāna and passed away in front of the great stone image on Tiantai Mountain. His age was sixty-seven, on the twenty-second day of the eleventh month of the seventeenth year of Kaihuang (597 CE). After his passing, he was encoffined in accordance with his bequeathed instructions. Prior to the final years of Renshou, he suddenly shook his staff and wore his robes just as in former days: he appeared in total seven times, descending again to the mountain monastery, and returning once to the Buddha Mound (Folong). He said to his disciples: 'I am inspecting my former work. Are you all in peace and comfort?' The entire assembly saw him, wept with veneration, and asked after him; after a good while, he vanished. From when Zhiyi’s spiritual presence of a dragon-elephant was born and nurtured in the Jiang-Han region, he relied on accumulated good deeds to take birth and drew upon fundamental virtue to transform the world. His body was over seven spans tall, and his eyes held an extraordinary radiance. In understanding he unified the Śākya gate, and in conduct he opened up the stages of the saṅgha. Going and returning between the mountains and the secular world, he remained unstained by worldly dust. He repeatedly elicited subtle auspicious portents, which were scarcely measurable. At first, when the Emperor [Yang of Sui] was still in his feudal principality, he dispatched messengers into the mountains to welcome him. Thereupon [Zhiyi] distributed his utensils, staked out the precincts of a monastery, and drew plans for the halls and kitchens. He told his disciples: 'This is not something that can be constructed through minor causes. An imperial crown prince will build a monastery for me. You can build it according to this; you shall see.' Later it indeed turned out as he had said; the matter appears in his separate biography. Formerly, when he resided in Linhai, the people made their living by fishing weirs; their nets stretched continuously for more than four hundred li, with more than sixty river-weirs and stream-dams. Zhiyi, feeling deep compassion, contemplated the mind regarding how beings harmed one another, and exhorted them to abandon sinful deeds and taught them the causes of merit. The gold and silk obtained gathered like a mountain, with which he then purchased this coastal bend to make it a pond for releasing life. He also dispatched the śramaṇa Huiba to present a memorial to the throne. Emperor Xuan of Chen issued an edict strictly forbidding fishing and hunting in this pond. The state erected a stele for it, commanding Xu Xiaoke, Chancellor of the National University, to compose a text and set it up by the seashore. Its wording was exceptionally poignant; those who read it unwittingly shed tears. At that time, when he returned to the Buddha Mound to practice dhyāna as usual, suddenly yellow sparrows filled the sky, soaring and congratulating one another, crying out above the mountain monastery for three days before dispersing. Zhiyi said: 'These are the fish coming to repay my kindness.' Even up to the present Zhenguan era, no one dares violate it; the edict strictly forbidding it remains just as in the Chen era. This vast and great compassionate deliverance of benevolent kindness could hardly be surpassed. Moreover, while he resided on the mountain, there were mushrooms that hung down from every tree touched; as quickly as they were gathered they sprang forth, providing regular sustenance for the saṅgha. If Zhiyi traveled elsewhere, the mushrooms would not grow. Talking on this basis, it was truly evoked by his realization of the Way! The works he authored, such as the *Lotus Commentary*, the *Gates to Cessation and Contemplation*, and the *Methods of Cultivating Dhyāna*, each comprise several tens of fascicles. He also authored the *Vimalakīrti Commentary* up to the Chapter on the Buddha Path, consisting of thirty-seven fascicles. All came from his mouth in complete literary composition, and attendants transcribed summaries, while he himself did not keep a single written character. As for other works produced according to occasions, they cannot be fully recounted. All were profound in intent and thoroughly lucid, setting forth ideas that opened heaven. Emperor Yang revered and relied upon them, esteeming them like imperial mandates. When he ascended to the imperial throne, he deposited them in the Unicorn Gallery (Lin’ge). Thus his fame and radiance overflowed the universe, and his majestic demeanor covers the present day. His dried skeleton remained standing distinctly, sitting upright as if alive. It was interred behind a stone gate and locked with a golden key; all matters concerning it were subject to special imperial decrees. Every year on the anniversary of his passing, the Emperor would suspend court audience and dispatch palace envoys in advance to the mountain to prepare offerings. Yang Su, Vice Director of the Department of State Affairs, was by nature open-minded and plain, but required firsthand verification in all matters. He expressed his thoughts: 'How could dry bones sit distinctly as if alive?' An edict granted him the key to the door, ordering him to go and inspect for himself. When it proved just as had been reported before, he returned with faith. Zhiyi established models east and west, his transformative teaching reaching across ten thousand li. He constructed thirty-five great monasteries, ordained more than four thousand monks with his own hands, copied fifteen editions of the Tripiṭaka, and produced about one hundred thousand gilded, sandalwood, and painted images. In more than fifty prefectures, the monastics and laity who received the bodhisattva precepts from him were beyond counting. There were thirty-two scholars who transmitted his heritage, while scholars practicing dhyāna dispersed throughout the Jiang-Han region without limit to their numbers. The śramaṇa Guanding, who served him for many years, chronicled his admirable conduct in about twenty-odd sheets of paper. Furthermore, the śramaṇa Falin of Longtian Monastery on Zhongnan Mountain, having early entered his lineage and personally received the precept teaching from him, because his virtuous voice had suddenly receded and the trees at his grave had quickly grown dense, composed a biography of him which was widely circulated in the world. In the final years of Emperor Yang of Sui, when the Emperor made an imperial tour to Jiangdu, he had a dream in which he felt Zhiyi speaking of what had been entrusted to him. The Emperor personally composed a stele inscription whose prose was exceedingly grand and ornate, but before it could be engraved, it was lost in the chaos of the times.