續高僧傳 29.16

29.16

釋僧明。俗姓姜。鄜州內部人。住既山栖。立性淳素。言令質樸敘悟非任。而能守禁自修。不隨鄙俗。雖不閑明經誥。然履操貞梗。有聲時俗。因遊邑落往還山谷。見一陭岸屢有異光。怪而尋討上下循擾。乃見㵎底石趺一枚。其狀高大。遠望岸側臥石如像。半現於外。遂加功發掘。乃全像也。形同佛相。純如鐵磺。不加鏨琢宛然圓具。舉高三丈餘。時周武已崩。天元嗣曆。明情發增勇不懼嚴誅。顧問古老無知來者。其地久荒榛梗。素非寺所。明自惟曰。當是育王遺像散在人間。應現之來故在斯矣。即召四遠同時拕舉。事力既竭全無勝致。明乃執爐誓曰。若佛法重興。蒼生有賴者。希現威靈得遂情願。適發言已。像乃忽然輕舉。從山直下徑趣趺孔。不假扶持卓然峙立。大眾驚嗟得未曾有。因以奏聞。帝用為嘉瑞也。乃改元為大像焉。自爾佛教漸弘。明之力也。又尋下勅。以其所住為大像寺。今所謂顯際寺是也。在坊州西南六十餘里。時值陰暗便放神光。明重出家。即依此寺盡報修奉。大感物心。以開皇中年卒于彼寺。余以為興福之來。事有機會。感見奇跡。其相彌隆。略引五三用開神理。至如徐州吳寺太子思惟瑞像者。昔東晉沙門法顯。厲節西天歷觀聖迹。往投一寺。小大承迎。顯時遇疾心希鄉飯。主人上坐親事經理。勅沙彌為取本鄉齋食。倏忽往還。脚有瘡血。云往彭城吳蒼鷹家求食。為犬所囓。顯怪其旋轉之頃而遊萬里之外。方悟寺僧並非常也。及隨船還。故往彭城訪吳蒼鷹。具知由委。其犬囓餘血塗門之處猶在。顯曰。此羅漢聖僧血也。當時見為取食。何期犬遂損耶。鷹聞懺咎。即捨宅為寺。自至揚都。廣求經像。正濟大江船遂傾側。忽有雙骨各長一丈。隨波騰漾奄入船中。即得安流昇岸以事奏聞。有司觀檢。乃龍齒也。鷹求像未獲。泝江西上。暫息林間。遇見婆羅門僧持像而行。云往徐州與吳蒼鷹供養。鷹曰。必如來言。弟子是也。便以像付之。鷹將像還至京。詔令模之。合造十軀。皆足下置字。新舊莫辯。任鷹探取。像又降夢示其本末。恰至鷹取還得本像。乃還徐州。每有神瑞。元魏孝文請入北臺。高齊後主遣使者常彪之迎還鄴下。齊滅周廢。為僧藏弆。大隋開教還重興世。今在相州鄴縣大慈寺也。又京師崇義寺石影像者。形高一尺徑六寸許。八楞紫色內外映徹。其源梁武太清中。有天竺僧齎來謁帝。會侯景作亂。便置江州廬山西林寺大像頂上。至開皇十年。煬帝作鎮江海。廣搜英異。文藝書記並委讎括。乃於雜傳得影像記。即遣中使王延壽往山推得。王自虔奉在內供養。在蕃歷任。每有行往函盛導前。初無寧舍。及登儲貳乃送於曲池日嚴寺。不令外人瞻覩。武德七年。廢入崇義。像隨僧來。京邑道俗備得觀仰。其中變現斯量難准。或佛塔形像。或賢聖天人。或山林帳蓋。或三途苦趣。或前後見同。或俄頃轉異。斯並目矚而敘之。信業鏡而非謬矣。貞觀六年。下勅入內。外遂絕也。又梁襄陽金像寺丈六無量壽瑞像者。東晉孝武寧康三年二月八日。沙門釋道安之所造也。明年季冬嚴飾成就。刺史郗恢創蒞此蕃。像乃行至萬山。恢率道俗迎還本寺。復以其夕出住寺門。合境同嗟。具以聞奏。梁普通三年。勅於建興苑鑄金銅花趺高六尺廣一丈。上送承足。立碑讚之。劉孝儀為文又荊州長沙寺瑞像者。晉太元年。此像現于城北。光相奇特具如前傳。形甚瓌異高於七尺。昔經夜行。人謂非類以刀擊之。及旦往視乃金像也。刀所擊處文現於外。梁高奉法情欲親謁。雖加事力終無以致。後遣侍中廣齎香供丹欵。既達。夜忽放光似隨使往。旦加延接還復留礙。重竭請祈方許從就。去都十八里。帝躬出迎。竟路放光相續不絕。白黑欣慶。在殿供養。三日已後從大通門送同泰寺。末被火燒堂塔並盡。惟像居殿巋然獨存。又高齊定州觀音瑞像。及高王經者。昔元魏天平定州募士孫敬德。於防所造觀音像。及年滿還。常加禮事。後為劫賊所引。禁在京獄。不勝拷掠。遂妄承罪。並處極刑。明旦將決。心既切至。淚如雨下。便自誓曰。今被枉酷。當是過去曾枉他來。願償債畢了。又願一切眾生所有禍橫。弟子代受言已少時依俙如睡。夢一沙門教誦觀世音救生經。經有佛名。令誦千遍。得免死厄。德既覺已。緣夢中經。了無謬誤。比至平明已滿百遍。有司執縛向市。且行且誦。臨欲加刑誦滿千遍。執刀下斫。折為三段。三換其刀。皮肉不損。怪以奏聞。丞相高歡。表請免刑。仍勅傳寫被之於世。今所謂高王觀世音是也。德既放還。觀在防時所造像項。有三刀迹。悲感之深慟發鄉邑。又昔彌天襄陽金像。更歷晉宋迄于齊梁。屢感靈相。聞之前紀。周武滅法。建德三年甲午之歲。太原公王秉。為荊州副鎮將。上開府長孫哲。志性凶頑不信佛法。聞有此像先欲毀之。邑中士女被廢僧尼。掩淚痛心無由救止。哲見欽崇彌至。瞋怒彌盛。逼逐侍從。速令摧殄。令百餘人以繩繫項。牽挽不動。哲謂不用加力。便杖監事。人各一百牽之如故。鏗然逾固。進三百人牽猶不動。哲怒彌盛。又加五百牽引方倒。聲振地動。人皆悚慄。哲獨喜勇。即遣鎔毀之。都無慚懼。自又馳馬欲報刺史。裁可百步堛然落地。失瘖直視。四支不勝。至夜而卒。道俗唱快。當毀像時。於腋下倒垂衣內銘云。晉太元十九年。歲次甲午。比丘道安於襄陽西郭造丈八金像此像更三周甲午百八十年當滅。計勘年月。興廢悉符同焉。信知印手聖人崇建容範。動發物心。生滅之期世相難改。業理之致復何虛矣。又揚都長干寺育王瑞像者。光趺身相祥瑞通感。五代侯王所共遵敬。具如前傳。每有亢陽之歲。請像入宮。必乘御輦上加油帔。僧眾從像以蓋自遮。初雖炎赫洞天。像出中途無不雨流滂注。家國所幸。有年斯賴所以道俗恒加雨候。至陳氏禎明年中。像面轉西。直月監堂屢迴正南。及至晨起還西如故。具以奏聞。勅延太極殿。設齋行道。先有七寶冠在于像頂。飾以珠玉可重百斤。其上復加錦帽。經夜至曉。寶冠掛于像手。錦帽猶加頭上。帝聞之乃燒香祝曰。若必國有不祥。還脫冠也。仍以冠在頂。及至明晨脫掛如故。上下同懼莫惻其徵。及隋滅陳降。舉朝露首面縛京室。方知其致。文帝後知乃遣迎接大內供養。以像立故帝恒侍奉不敢對坐。乃下勅曰。朕年老不堪久立侍佛。可令有司造坐像。其相還如育王本像。送興善寺。既達此寺。形相偉壯不會即機。遂置于北面。及明見像乃在南面中門。眾咸異焉。還送北面堅封門鑰。明旦更看像還在南。僉皆愧悔謝其輕侮。即見在寺。圖寫殷矣。又梁高祖崇重釋侶。欣尚靈儀。造等身金銀像二軀。於重雲殿晨夕禮敬。五十許年初無替廢。及侯景篡奪。猶在供養。太尉王僧辯。誅景江南。元帝渚宮復沒。辯乃通欵於齊。迎貞陽侯為帝。時江左未定。利害相雄。辯女婿杜龕。典衛宮闕。為性兇捍。不見後世。欲毀二像為金銀挺。先遣數十人上三休閣。令鑱佛項。二像忽然一時迴顧。所遣眾人失瘖如醉。不能自勝。杜龕即被打築。遍身青腫惟見金剛力士怖畏之像。競來打擊略無休息。呻號數日洪爛而死。及梁運在陳。武帝崩背。兄子陳蒨嗣膺大業。將修葬具造轀輬車國創新定未遑經始。勅取重雲殿中佛像寶帳珩珮珠玉鎣飾之具。將用送終。人力既豐四面齊至。但見雲氣擁結圍遶佛殿。自餘方左白日開朗。百工聞怪同本看覩。須臾大雨橫注。雷電震吼。煙張鵄吻火烈雲中。流光布焰高下相涉。並見重雲殿影二像峙然四部神王并及帳座一時騰上。煙火相扶歘然遠逝。觀者傾都咸生深信。雨晴之後覆看故所。惟見柱礎存焉。至後月餘有從東州來者。是日同見殿影東飛于海。今有望海者時往見之。近高齊日。沙門僧護。守道直心不求慧業。願造丈八石像。咸怪其言。後於寺北谷中見一臥石可長丈八。乃雇匠營造。向經一周面腹粗了。而背著地。以六具拗舉之。如初不動。經夜至旦忽然自翻。即就營訖移置佛堂。晉州陷日像汗流地。周兵入齊燒諸佛寺。此像獨不變色。又欲倒之。人牛六十餘頭挽不可動。忽有異僧。以瓦木土墼壘而圍之。須臾便了。失僧所在。像後降夢信心者曰。吾患指痛。其人寤而視焉。乃木傷其二指也。遂即補之。開皇十年。有盜像幡蓋者。夢丈八人入室責之。賊遂慚怖悔而謝焉。其像現存。並見旌異記及諸僧錄。然斯通感佛教備彰。但是福門無非靈應。竊以像避延燒狩驚邪道。影覆異術經焚不灰。靈骨之放神光。密迹之興弘護。其相大矣。具在前聞。至如貞觀五年梁州安養寺慧光師弟子母氏。貧窶內無衵衣。來入子房取故袈裟。作之而著。與諸隣母同聚言笑。忽覺脚熱。漸上至腰。須臾雷震擲隣母百步之外。土泥兩耳悶絕經日方得醒悟。所用衣者遂被震死。火燒焦踡題其背曰。由用法衣不如法也。其子收殯又再震出。乃露骸林下方終銷散。是知受持法服。惠及三歸之龍。信不虛矣。近有山居僧。在深巖宿。以衣障前。感異神來形極可畏。伸臂內探欲取宿者。畏觸袈裟礙不得入。遂得免脫。如是眾相不可具紀。如上下諸例中。

Śramaṇa Sengming, whose lay surname was Jiang, was a native of the interior of Fuzhou. Having taken up residence in the mountains, his disposition was pure and simple. His speech was plain and artless, and he was not suited to expounding on awakenings; yet he was able to uphold the prohibitions and cultivate himself, never conforming to base worldly ways. Although he was not versed in the scriptures and treatises, his conduct and integrity were upright and firm, earning him renown among the secular world of his time. Once, while roaming among the hamlets and traveling back and forth through the mountain valleys, he saw an anomalous light appearing repeatedly on a steep bank. Wondering at it, he investigated, searching high and low, whereupon he found a stone pedestal at the bottom of a ravine. Its form was tall and massive. Looking from afar toward the side of the bank, a recumbent stone resembled an image, halfway exposed outside. Thereupon, he applied labor to excavate it, and it turned out to be a complete image. Its shape was identical to the physical marks of a Buddha, purely resembling iron ore; without having been chiseled or carved, it was perfectly and completely formed, standing over thirty feet tall. At that time, Emperor Wu of the Zhou had already died, and Tianyuan had succeeded to the calendar. Ming’s courage surged, and he did not fear harsh punishment. He inquired of the elders, but none knew where it came from. That ground had long been an overgrown thicket and had never been the site of a temple. Ming reflected to himself: “This must be a relic image of King Aśoka scattered in the human world, and its appearing here must be for a reason!” He immediately summoned people from all directions to drag and hoist it together; but when their strength was exhausted, they achieved no result at all. Ming then held a censer and vowed: “If the Buddha-dharma is to flourish once more and the common folk are to have something to rely upon, we pray that it display its numinous power and fulfill our wish!” No sooner had he spoken than the image suddenly lifted lightly, came straight down from the mountain, and went right to the socket of the pedestal; without relying on any support, it stood loftily erect. The multitude cried out in wonder at this unprecedented event. A memorial was subsequently submitted to report it to the throne, and the emperor regarded it as an auspicious omen, accordingly changing the reign era to Daxiang (“Great Image”). From then on, Buddhism gradually spread, which was due to Ming’s efforts. Soon after, an imperial edict was issued designating his dwelling as Daxiang Temple, which is today’s Xianji Temple, located more than sixty li southwest of Fangzhou. Whenever it was dark and overcast, it emitted a divine light. Ming was re-ordained as a monk and resided at this temple, cultivating and making offerings to it for the rest of his life, greatly moving the minds of beings. In the middle of the Kaihuang reign, he died at that temple. I consider that when it comes to the arising of meritorious fortune, matters have their opportune moments; when rare marvels are resonantly manifested, their signs become increasingly prominent. I shall briefly cite a few to open up the divine principle. Take, for instance, the auspicious image of the Crown Prince in Contemplation at Wu Temple in Xuzhou. Formerly, during the Eastern Jin, the śramaṇa Faxian, maintaining strict discipline, traveled to the Western Heavens to tour and observe sacred sites. He went to lodge at a temple, where both young and old welcomed him. At that time, Faxian fell ill and longed for the food of his native land. The host sthavira attended to the arrangements personally and ordered a novice to fetch a vegetarian meal from Faxian’s native region. In an instant, the novice went and returned. There were bloody sores on his feet, and he said that he had gone to the house of Wu Cangying in Pengcheng to beg for food and had been bitten by a dog. Faxian marveled that in the span of a single turn he could roam ten thousand li away, and only then realized that the monks of the temple were no ordinary men. When he returned by ship, he deliberately went to Pengcheng to visit Wu Cangying and learned the full circumstances: the blood remaining from where the dog had bitten, smeared on the gate, was still there. Faxian said: “This is the blood of an arhat, a holy monk! When he came to fetch food for me, how could I have expected the dog would harm him?” Hearing this, Cangying repented his fault, immediately renounced his residence to make it a temple, and went in person to the capital Yangdu to broadly seek out scriptures and images. Just as he was crossing the Great River, the boat began to capsize. Suddenly, two bones, each ten feet long, billowed with the waves and abruptly entered the boat. Thereupon, they obtained a smooth current, came ashore, and reported the matter to the throne. The officials examined them and found they were dragon teeth. Cangying had not yet obtained an image, so he went upriver to the west. Resting for a while in a forest, he met a brāhmaṇa monk walking along carrying an image, who said he was going to Xuzhou to give it to Wu Cangying for veneration. Cangying said: “If it is truly as your reverence says, this disciple is he!” The monk then handed the image to him. Cangying brought the image back to the capital. An imperial edict ordered it to be replicated, and ten figures were made in all, each having characters inscribed under the feet, so that the new and old could not be distinguished, leaving it to Cangying to pick it out. The image again appeared in a dream, showing its origin; precisely when Cangying went to take it, he retrieved the original image. He then returned to Xuzhou, where there were frequent divine wonders. Emperor Xiaowen of the Northern Wei requested that it be brought into the Northern Platform. The Latter Ruler of the Northern Qi sent the emissary Chang Biaozi to welcome it back to Ye. When the Qi fell and the Zhou proscribed Buddhism, it was hidden away by monks. When the Great Sui inaugurated its teaching, it flourished once again in the world. It is now at Daci Temple in Ye County, Xiangzhou. Furthermore, regarding the stone shadow-image at Chongyi Temple in the capital: its form is one foot tall and about six inches in diameter; it has eight facets and a purple color, shining through from inside out. Its origin was in the Taiqing reign of Emperor Wu of the Liang, when an Indian monk brought it to present to the emperor. Meeting with the rebellion of Hou Jing, it was placed atop the head of the Great Image at Xilin Temple on Mount Lu in Jiangzhou. By the tenth year of the Kaihuang reign, Emperor Yang was stationed over the rivers and seas; he broadly searched for outstanding wonders and entrusted the collation of literature and records [to his officials]. In a miscellaneous biography, they found a record of the shadow-image, and he immediately dispatched the palace emissary Wang Yanshou to go to the mountain to search for and obtain it. The king personally and devoutly venerated it, making offerings in the inner quarters. Throughout his successive appointments in the regional domains, whenever he traveled, it was carried in a box leading the way before him, never left behind at rest. When he ascended to the position of Crown Prince, he sent it to Riyan Temple at Quchi, not allowing outsiders to view it. In the seventh year of the Wude reign, that temple was dissolved into Chongyi Temple, and the image accompanied the monks there; both monastics and laity in the capital were fully able to gaze upon and venerate it. The transformations and manifestations within it were difficult to measure: sometimes the shapes and forms of Buddha stupas, sometimes sages, devas, and humans; sometimes mountains, forests, curtains, and canopies; sometimes the suffering destinies of the three paths. Sometimes what was seen before and after was identical; sometimes it shifted and changed in an instant. All these were witnessed with their own eyes and described; truly it was a mirror of karma and no falsehood. In the sixth year of the Zhenguan reign, an imperial edict summoned it into the palace, and it was cut off from the outside world. Furthermore, as for the sixteen-foot auspicious image of Amitāyus at Jinxiang Temple in Xiangyang of the Liang: on the eighth day of the second month in the third year of the Ningkang reign of Emperor Xiaowu of the Eastern Jin, it was crafted by the śramaṇa Shi Dao’an. In the last month of winter the following year, its decoration was completed. When the regional inspector Xi Hui first arrived to govern this region, the image walked to Wanshan. Hui led the monastics and laity to welcome it back to its original temple. Again, that night, it went out and stood at the temple gate; the entire region marvelled together, and the matter was reported in full to the throne. In the third year of the Putong reign of the Liang, an imperial decree ordered a gilded bronze lotus pedestal, six feet high and ten feet wide, to be cast in the Jianxing Park and sent up to support its feet. A stele was erected in praise of it, with an inscription composed by Liu Xiaoyi. Furthermore, regarding the auspicious image at Changsha Temple in Jingzhou: in the Taiyuan reign of the Jin, this image appeared north of the city; its light and marks were extraordinary, fully recorded as in the previous biography. Its form was exceedingly magnificent, over seven feet tall. Formerly, when it was walking at night, people thought it was an uncanny entity and struck it with a knife; when morning came and they went to look, it was a golden image, and the spot struck by the knife showed a mark on the outside. Emperor Gao of the Liang revered the Dharma and wished to pay homage to it in person, but though he applied material effort, he could not bring it about. Later, he sent a palace attendant bearing copious incense and offerings with sincere devotion; once he arrived, the image suddenly emitted light at night, seeming to accompany the emissary. When they welcomed it the next morning, it was hindered again; only after they exhausted their supplications did it permit compliance. Eighteen li from the capital, the emperor came out in person to welcome it; all along the road, it emitted continuous light without interruption. Both monastics and laity rejoiced. It was venerated in the palace, and after three days, it was sent from the Datong Gate to Tongtai Temple. Later, when the temple was burned by fire, the halls and pagodas were all destroyed, but the image alone stood lofty and preserved in the hall. Furthermore, regarding the auspicious Guanyin image of Dingzhou under the Northern Qi, and the Gaowang Sūtra: formerly, in the Tianping reign of the Northern Wei, Sun Jingde, a recruit in Dingzhou, crafted a Guanyin image at his defense post. When his term was completed and he returned, he always paid reverent homage to it. Later, implicated by bandits, he was imprisoned in the capital jail. Unable to bear the flogging and torture, he falsely confessed to the crime and was sentenced to capital punishment. On the eve of his execution, his mind was so stricken that his tears fell like rain. He then made a vow: “Now that I suffer this wrongful cruelty, it must be because I wronged others in past lives; I wish to pay off this debt completely. Furthermore, whatever unexpected disasters all sentient beings face, may this disciple bear them on their behalf!” Having spoken, after a short while, he seemed to fall asleep, dreaming of a śramaṇa who taught him to recite the Guanshiyin Scripture on Saving Lives. The scripture contained the names of Buddhas, and he was told that reciting it a thousand times would free him from the peril of death. Once Jingde awoke, he recalled the scripture from his dream without the slightest error. By daybreak, he had already completed a hundred recitations. The officials bound him and led him to the marketplace; he recited as he walked, and just as the punishment was about to be executed, he completed a thousand recitations. The blade was brought down to strike, but it broke into three pieces; three times they changed the blade, yet his skin and flesh were unharmed. Wondering at this, they reported it to the throne. Prime Minister Gao Huan submitted a memorial requesting his exemption from punishment, and subsequently ordered that it be copied and circulated throughout the world; this is what is now known as the Gaowang Guanshiyin [Sūtra]. After Jingde was released and returned, he observed the neck of the image he had crafted while on defense duty: there were three knife marks on it. Deeply moved with sorrow and gratitude, his weeping stirred his home village. Furthermore, formerly, the sixteen-foot golden image of Xiangyang made by Dao’an, having passed through the Jin, Song, Qi, and Liang dynasties, frequently displayed numinous signs, as heard in earlier records. When Emperor Wu of the Zhou destroyed the Dharma, in the third year of Jiande, the jiawu year, the Duke of Taiyuan, Wang Bing, served as the deputy defense general of Jingzhou. The Upper Pillar of State Zhangsun Zhe was vicious and obstinate by nature and did not believe in the Buddha-dharma; hearing of this image, he wished to destroy it first. The gentlemen and women of the city, along with the defrocked monks and nuns, hid their tears in grief, having no way to stop him. Seeing their utmost reverence, Zhe’s wrath flared even more; he drove away the attendants and quickly ordered its destruction. He had over a hundred men tie a rope around its neck and pull it, but it did not move. Zhe thought they were not exerting strength, so he caned the supervisors a hundred strokes each; they pulled as before, but it clanged and stood firmer still. Advancing three hundred men, it still did not move. Zhe’s anger grew even fiercer; adding five hundred more men, only then was it pulled down. The sound shook the earth, and everyone trembled with fear. Zhe alone rejoiced in his bravado, immediately ordering it to be melted down and destroyed, with no shame or fear whatsoever. He then rode his horse to report to the regional inspector, but after only about a hundred paces, he collapsed heavily to the ground, lost his voice, stared blankly, and his four limbs failed him; by nightfall he died. Monastics and laity cheered. When the image was being destroyed, an inscription was found inside the inverted hanging folds of its robe under the armpit: “In the nineteenth year of the Taiyuan reign of the Jin, the jiawu year, the bhikṣu Dao’an crafted an eighteen-foot golden image in the western suburbs of Xiangyang. After three cycles of jiawu, one hundred and eighty years later, this image shall be destroyed.” Calculating the years and months, its flourishing and destruction were in exact accord. One truly knows that when the Hand-sealed Sage established this bodily form, it moved and stirred the hearts of beings; the timing of its arising and passing away was difficult to alter in worldly phenomena, so how could the workings of karmic principle be in vain? Furthermore, regarding the auspicious Aśoka image at Changgan Temple in Yangdu: its halo, pedestal, and bodily marks were all resonant with auspicious omens, revered and respected in common by the monarchs of five dynasties, fully recorded as in the previous biography. Whenever there was a year of severe drought, they would invite the image into the palace; it would invariably ride in the imperial carriage covered with an oilcloth mantle, and the monastic assembly would follow the image, sheltering themselves with parasols. Although the blazing sun initially scorched the entire sky, once the image departed on its way, torrential rain never failed to pour down. As this was a blessing for both family and state, upon which bountiful harvests depended, monastics and laity constantly watched the weather for rain. By the Zhenming reign of the Chen dynasty, the image’s face turned west. The hall overseer on duty for the month turned it back facing south several times, but by morning it was facing west as before. The matter was reported in full to the throne, and an imperial decree invited it to the Taiji Hall to conduct a vegetarian feast and circumambulate the Dharma. Previously, there was a seven-jewel crown upon the image’s head, adorned with pearls and jades weighing about a hundred catties, on top of which was added a brocade cap. Passing the night until dawn, the jeweled crown was hanging from the image’s hand, while the brocade cap remained on its head. When the emperor heard this, he burned incense and prayed: “If indeed there is misfortune in the state, let the crown be removed again.” He then placed the crown on its head, but when the next morning came, it had been removed and hung as before. High and low were alike terrified, none able to fathom the omen. When the Sui destroyed the Chen and accepted their surrender, the entire court bared their heads and had their hands tied behind their backs toward the capital’s palace, only then understanding its import. Later, Emperor Wen learned of this and sent for it to be welcomed into the imperial palace for veneration. Because the image was standing, the emperor constantly attended upon it and did not dare sit opposite it; he then issued an edict: “We are aged and cannot stand for long attending upon the Buddha. Let the officials craft a seated image, its form modeled after the original Aśoka image, and send it to Xingshan Temple.” When it reached this temple, its appearance was grand and imposing, not meeting the immediate capacity [of the space], so it was placed on the north side. By morning, they saw the image was on the south side at the middle gate. The multitude all marveled at it, and returned it to the north side, firmly locking the doors. Looking again the next morning, the image was back on the south side. All were ashamed and remorseful, apologizing for their slight. It is currently at the temple, and paintings of it are numerous. Furthermore, Emperor Gaozu of the Liang deeply revered the monastic community and rejoiced in honoring numinous images, crafting two life-sized images in gold and silver, which he worshipped morning and evening in the Chongyun Hall; for about fifty years, this was never neglected. Even when Hou Jing usurped power, offerings were still made to them. When Grand Defender Wang Sengbian executed Jing south of the river, and Emperor Yuan’s court at Zhugong fell, Sengbian communicated his allegiance to the Qi, welcoming the Marquis of Zhenyang as emperor. At that time, Jiangzuo was not yet pacified, with various interests contending for dominance. Sengbian’s son-in-law Du Kan was in charge of guarding the palace; by nature he was violent and aggressive, having no regard for future lives, and wished to destroy the two images to make gold and silver ingots. He first sent dozens of men up to the Sanxiu Pavilion, ordering them to chisel the Buddhas’ necks. Suddenly, the two images simultaneously turned their heads around; the men sent lost their voices as if drunk and could not control themselves. Du Kan was then beaten and struck; his entire body was bruised and swollen, and he saw only terrifying forms of vajra-warriors coming in competition to strike him without rest. Groaning and howling for several days, he rotted away and died. When the Liang mandate passed to the Chen, Emperor Wu passed away, and his nephew Chen Qian succeeded to the imperial throne. As he was preparing the funerary gear to build the wenliang carriage, the state was newly established and had no leisure to start from scratch; an imperial order was issued to take the Buddha images, jeweled canopies, and jade ornamentations in the Chongyun Hall to use for the funeral. Since manpower was abundant, they converged from all four sides simultaneously; yet they saw only dense clouds gathering and surrounding the Buddha hall, while outside all other directions the daylight was clear and bright. Hearing of this wonder, the hundred artisans gathered together to look; in an instant, torrential rain poured down, thunder and lightning roared, smoke spread from the chiwen roof ornaments, and fierce fire raged amidst the clouds, streaming light and spreading flames intertwining high and low. They all saw the reflection of the Chongyun Hall and the two images standing erect, with the divine kings of the four classes and the canopied pedestals all soaring upward together, whisked far away borne by smoke and fire. The onlookers throughout the capital all gave rise to deep faith. After the rain cleared, they returned to examine the former site, finding only the pillar bases remaining. More than a month later, someone came from the eastern provinces and said that on that same day, they had seen the reflection of the hall flying eastward toward the sea; today, those who gaze out over the sea still occasionally see it. Recently, during the Northern Qi, the śramaṇa Senghu, who guarded the Way with a straightforward mind and did not seek intellectual wisdom, vowed to craft an eighteen-foot stone image; everyone marveled at his words. Later, in the valley north of the temple, he found a recumbent stone about eighteen feet long, and hired artisans to work on it. Approaching a full year, the face and belly were roughly completed, but its back was on the ground. When they tried to pry and lift it with six sets of levers, it remained unmoved as before. Overnight until morning, it suddenly turned over on its own. They then proceeded to finish it and move it to the Buddha hall. On the day Jinzhou fell, the image sweated profusely onto the ground. When the Zhou troops entered Qi and burned down the Buddhist temples, this image alone did not change color. Again, they wished to pull it down, but over sixty men and oxen pulling could not move it. Suddenly, an extraordinary monk piled tiles, wood, and unburnt bricks around it, finishing in an instant; then the monk’s whereabouts were lost. Later, the image appeared in a dream to a believer, saying: “I suffer from finger pain.” The man awoke and examined it, and indeed two of its fingers were damaged by wood; he immediately repaired them. In the tenth year of the Kaihuang reign, when someone stole the banners and canopies of the image, he dreamed of an eighteen-foot person entering the room to reprimand him; the thief was ashamed and terrified, and repented with an apology. The image is extant today, recorded both in the Record of Manifested Wonders and in various monastic catalogs. Thus, such resonant responses fully demonstrate the Buddhist teachings; wherever there is a portal of merit, there is none without numinous resonance. I humbly observe that images avoid being consumed by flames, beasts startle heterodox paths, shadows overshadow foreign arts, and scriptures remain unburned in fires; the emission of divine light from numinous bones, and the flourishing protection by Guhyapada—such manifestations are grand indeed, fully recorded in earlier accounts! As for the mother of a disciple of Master Huiguang of Anyang Temple in Liangzhou in the fifth year of the Zhenguan reign: being impoverished and lacking inner garments, she entered her son’s room, took an old kaṣāya, refashioned it, and wore it. While gathering, talking, and laughing with neighboring mothers, she suddenly felt heat in her feet, which gradually rose to her waist. In an instant, a thunderclap threw the neighboring mothers a hundred paces away; with mud in their ears, they remained unconscious for a day before reviving. The one who had used the robe was struck dead by thunder, burned and shriveled by fire, with writing on her back that read: “Due to using a Dharma robe contrary to the Dharma.” When her son went to bury her, she was struck out by thunder twice more; only after her bones were exposed in the forest did they finally dissolve away. From this one knows that upholding the Dharma robe brings benefit even to the dragons who took the three refuges; truly this is no falsehood! Recently, there was a mountain-dwelling monk who spent the night in a deep cavern, using his robe to screen the front. He moved an extraordinary spirit to come, exceedingly terrifying in form, who reached in its arm to seize the sleeper, but fearing contact with the kaṣāya, was obstructed and could not enter, allowing the monk to escape unharmed. Such various manifestations cannot be recorded in full, as in the numerous examples above and below.