續高僧傳 27.17

27.17

釋普圓。不知何許人。聲議所述似居河海。周武之初來遊三輔。容貌姿美其相偉大。言顧弘緩。有丈夫之神采焉。多歷名山大川。常以頭陀為志。樂行慈救利益為先。人有投者輒便引度。示語行要令遵苦節。誦華嚴一部。潛其聲相人無知者。弟子侍讀。後因知之。然而常坐繩床。斂容在定。用心彌到不覺經過晨夕。有時乞食暫往村聚。多依林墓取靜思惟。夜有強鬼形極可畏。四眼六牙。手持曲棒。身毛垂下。徑至其前。圓怒目觀之。都無怖懾。不久便退。其例非一。又有惡人從圓乞頭。將斬與之。又不肯取。又復乞眼。即欲剜施。便從索手遂以繩繫腕著樹。齊肘斬而與之。心悶委地。村人明乃聞知。因斯卒于郊南樊川也。諸村哀其苦行。爭欲收葬。眾議不決。乃分其屍為數段。各修塔焉。

Shi Puyuan: It is not known where he came from. What was recounted in public report suggests he had lived by the rivers and seas. At the beginning of the reign of Emperor Wu of the Northern Zhou, he came wandering to the Three Auxiliaries. His features and posture were handsome, his bearing magnificent and grand; his words were deliberate, and his gaze composed and unhurried—he possessed the spirit and air of an extraordinary man. He visited many famous mountains and great rivers, constantly taking the dhūta practices as his aim, delighting in the practice of compassionate rescue and prioritizing the benefit of others. Whenever someone turned to him, he would immediately guide and ordain them, teaching them the essentials of practice and having them abide by austere discipline. He recited the Huayan jing in its entirety, concealing all sound and outward sign of it so that no one knew; his attending disciples only later came to know of it. Furthermore, he constantly sat on a rope bed, composed his demeanor in absorption, and focused his mind with such thoroughness that he took no notice of the passing of morning or evening. Sometimes he would go briefly to villages and hamlets to beg for food, but for the most part he stayed in forests and graveyards to seek tranquility for contemplation. At night, a fearsome ghost of extremely terrifying appearance—with four eyes and six fangs, clutching a crooked staff, hair hanging down from its body—came straight before him. Puyuan glared at it with furious eyes, completely without fear or intimidation, and before long it retreated; instances like this were not unique. There was also an evil man who begged Puyuan for his head; when Puyuan was about to cut it off and give it to him, the man refused to take it. He then begged for an eye, and Puyuan was immediately about to gouge it out and bestow it. The man then demanded a hand; Puyuan thereupon tied his wrist to a tree with a rope, severed it at the elbow, and gave it to him. Overcome with faintness, he collapsed onto the ground. The villagers only heard of it the next morning. Because of this, he died at Fanchuan in the southern suburbs. The villagers, lamenting his ascetic practice, vied to collect his remains for burial. As the assembly could not settle their disagreement, they divided his corpse into several portions and each built a stūpa over them.