續高僧傳 5.26

5.26

釋智藏。姓顧氏。本名淨藏。吳郡吳人。吳少傅曜之八世也。高祖彭年司農卿。曾祖淳錢唐令。祖瑤之員外郎。父映奉朝請。早亡其母嘗夢。出繞吳城一匝。密雲四布而天中開朗。眾星墜地取而吞之。因而有娠焉。及生藏也。少而聰敏。常懷退讓。果食衣服爰及威儀皆新華。先讓而處下末。由此擊譽鄉閭敬而尚重。年十六代宋明帝出家。以泰初六年勅住興皇寺。事師上定林寺僧遠僧祐天安寺弘宗。此諸名德傳如前述。藏稟依訓範敬義弘隆。嘗遇師疾甚不食多日。藏亦從之。待師進飲藏還進飲。乃至平復方從師好。自是戒德堅明學業通奧。眾所知識超於夷等。當時柔次二公玄宗蓋世。初從受學。挹酌經論統辯精理。及其開關延敵。莫能涉其津者。藏洞曉若神微言每吐。預有比蹤罔不折伏。於是二僧歎揖。自以弗及之也。齊太尉文憲王公。深懷欽悅爰請安居。常歎相知之晚。太宰文宣王。建立正典紹隆釋教。將講淨名選窮上首。乃招集精解二十餘僧。探授符策乃得於藏。年臘最小獨居末坐。敷述義理罔或抗衡。道俗翕然彌崇高譽。先是會稽慎法師。志欲宣通妙法。乃請文宣。方求講匠。以藏名稱普聞。允當僉屬。遂流連會稽。多歷年祀。伏膺鼓篋。寔繁有徒。但以律部未精。重遊京輦。信同瓶喻。有似燈傳。俄而十誦明了諸部薄究。未還吳郡道流生地。學人裹糧隨之不少。永元二年重遊禹穴。居法華山結眾弘業。及齊德將謝。王室大騷。天地既閉經籍道廢。遂翻然高舉。欲終焉禹穴。逮有梁革命。大弘正法。皇華繼至。方遊京輦。天子下禮承修。榮貴莫不竦敬。聖僧寶誌遷神。窀穸于鍾阜。於墓前建塔。寺名開善。勅藏居之。初藏未受具戒。遇誌於定林上寺。遂推令居前。垂示崇敬之迹。識知德望有歸告之先見矣。時梁武崇信釋門。宮闕恣其遊踐。主者以負扆南面域中一人。議以御坐之法唯天子所升。沙門一不霑預。藏聞之勃然厲色。即入金門上正殿踞法座抗聲曰。貧道昔為吳中顧郎。尚不慚御榻。況復迺祖定光。金輪釋子也。檀越若殺貧道即殺。不慮無受生之處。若付在尚方。獄中不妨行道。即拂衣而起。帝遂罷勅任從前法。斯跨略天子高岸釋門。皆此類也。有墅姥者。工相人也。為記吉凶百不失一。謂藏曰。法師聰辯蓋世天下流名。但恨年命不長。可至三十一矣。時年二十有九。聞斯促報講解頓息。竭精修道發大誓願足不出門。遂探經藏得金剛般若。受持讀誦畢命奉之。至所厄暮年香湯洗浴淨室誦經以待死至。俄而聞空中聲曰。善男子。汝往年三十一者。是報盡期。由般若經力得倍壽矣。藏後出山試過前相者。乃大驚起曰。何因尚在世也。前見短壽之相。今了一無。沙門誠不可相矣。藏問。今得至幾。答云。色相骨法年六十餘。藏曰。五十為命。已不為夭。況復過也。乃以由緣告之。相者欣服。竟以畢年辭世。終如相言。於是江左道俗。競誦此經。多有徵應。乃至于今日有光大。感通屢結。逮梁大同中。敬重三寶利動昏心。澆波之儔。肆情下達。僧正憲網無施於過門。帝欲自御僧官維任法侶。勅主書遍令許者署名。于時盛哲無敢抗者。匿然投筆。後以疎聞藏。藏以筆橫轢之告曰。佛法大海非俗人所知。帝覽之不以介意。斯亦拒懷略萬乘季代一人。而帝意彌盛。事將施行於世。雖藏後未同。而勅已先被。晚於華光殿設會。眾僧大集。後藏方至。帝曰。比見僧尼多未誦習。白衣僧正不解科條。俗法治之傷於過重。弟子暇日欲自為白衣僧正亦依律立法。此雖是法師之事。然佛亦復付囑國王。向來與諸僧共論。咸言不異。法師意旨如何。藏曰。陛下欲自臨僧事。實光顯正法。但僧尼多不如律。所願垂慈矜恕此事為後。帝曰。弟子此意豈欲苦眾僧耶。正謂俗愚過重。自可依律定之。法師乃令矜恕。此意何在。答曰。陛下誠欲降重從輕。但末代眾僧難皆如律。故敢乞矜恕。帝曰。請問諸僧犯罪。佛法應治之不。答曰。竊以佛理深遠教有出沒。意謂亦治不治。帝曰。惟見付囑國王治之。何處有不治之說。答曰。調達親是其事。如來置之不治。帝曰。法師意謂。調達何人。答曰。調達乃誠不可測。夫示迹正欲顯教。若不可不治。聖人何容示此。若一向治之。則眾僧不立。一向不治亦復不立。帝動容追停前勅。諸僧震懼相率啟請。帝曰。藏法師是大丈夫心。謂是則道是。言非則道非。致詞宏大。不以形命相累。諸法師非大丈夫。意實不同言則不異。弟子向與藏法師碩諍。而諸法師默然無見助者。豈非意在不同耳。事遂獲寢。藏出告諸徒屬曰。國王欲以佛法為己任。乃是大士用心。然衣冠一家子弟十數。未必稱意。況復眾僧。五方混雜未易辯明。正須去其甚泰耳。且如來戒律布在世間。若能遵用足相綱理。僧正非但無益為損弘多。常欲勸令罷之。豈容贊成此事。或曰。理極如此。當萬乘之怒何能夷然。藏笑曰。此實可畏。但吾年老。縱復荷旨附會。終不長生。然死本所不惜。故安之耳。後法雲謂眾曰。帝於義理之中未能相謝。一日之事真可愧服不久勅於彭城寺講成實。聽侶千餘。皆一時翹秀。學觀榮之。又勅於慧輪殿講波若經。別勅大德三十人預座。藏開釋發趣各有清拔皆著私記擬後傳習。天監末年春捨身大懺。招集道俗。并自講金剛般若以為極悔。惟留衣鉢。餘者傾盡一無遺餘。陳郡謝幾卿。指掛衣竹戲曰。猶留此物尚有意耶。藏曰。身猶未滅意何由盡。而尚懷靖處託意山林。還居開善因不履世。時或勅會。乃上啟辭曰。夙昔顧省心惑不調。欲依佛一語於空閑自制。而從緣流二十餘載。在乎少壯故可推斥。今既老病身心俱減。若復退一毫。便不堪自課。故願言靜處少自營衛。非敢傲世求名。非欲從閑自誕。是常人近情。懼前逕之已迫耳。帝手勅喻曰。求空自閑依空入慧。高蹈養神實是勝樂。不違三乘。亦以隨喜。惟別之際能無悵然。岐路贈言古人所重。猶勸法師。行無礙心。大悲為首方便利益。隨時用舍不宜頓杜。以隔礙心行菩薩道無有是處。勅往反頻。仍久之然持操不改。帝將受菩薩戒勅僧正牒老宿德望。時超正略牒法深慧約智藏三人。而帝意在於智者。仍取之矣。皇太子尤相敬接。將致北面之禮。肅恭虔往。朱輪徐動鳴笳啟路。降尊下禮就而謁之。從遵戒範永為師傅。又請於寺講大涅槃。親臨幄坐爰命諮質。朝賢時彥道俗盈堂。法筵之盛未之前聞。又於北閣更延談論。皆歎曰。陪預勝席未曾有也。藏任吹虛舟真行平等。毀譽不動榮利未干。宴坐空閑毅然山立。雖神㝢凝隔風韻清高。其應物也汲汲然如有不足。可謂望儼即溫。君子之變者矣。自現處巖岫晦形人世。又於寺外山曲別立頭陀之舍六所。並是茅茨容膝而已。皇太子聞而遊覽。各賦詩而返。其後章云。非曰樂逸遊。意欲識箕潁。藏結心世表。常行懺悔。每於六時翹仰靈相。口云。理味深玄淺思斟酌自抱疑礙。恐乖聖意多僻。因而懇惻詞淚俱發。嘗宿靈曜寺。夜行暫用心。見有金光照曜。一室洞明。人問其故。答曰。此中奇妙未可得言。是旦遘疾至于大漸。帝及儲君中使相望。四部白黑日夜參候。勅為建齊手製願文。并繼以醫藥。而天子不整。唯增不降。臨終詞色詳正。遺言唯在弘法。以普通三年九月十日卒于寺房。春秋六十有五。勅葬獨龍之山。赴送盈道同為建碑。墳所寺內各一。新安太守蕭機製文。湘東王繹製銘。太子中庶子陳郡殷鈞為立墓誌。初藏常夢見金粟如來入室共談執二麈尾。其一寶裝。其一者素。留素者與藏。又徵士廬江何胤。居吳郡虎丘。遇一神僧。捉一函書云。有人來寄語頃失之。及開函視全不識其文詞。後訪魏僧云。是大莊嚴論中間兩紙也。時人咸謂藏之所致。又彭城劉混之罪當從戮。藏時處後堂。為帝述四等義。外奏聞之。帝曰。今為國事不得道四等義如何。藏曰。言行乘機也。今機發而不中。失在何人。四等之舉義非徒設。帝遂捨而不問。竟以獲免。劉氏終亦不委斯由。其潛濟益被率多如此。凡講大小品涅槃般若法華十地金光明成實百論阿毘曇心等。各著義疏行世。

Śramaṇa Zhizang, surnamed Gu and originally named Jingzang, was a native of Wu in Wu commandery. He was the eighth-generation descendant of Yao, Junior Tutor of the Wu dynasty. His great-great-grandfather Pengnian was Chief Minister of the National Granaries; his great-grandfather Chun was Magistrate of Qiantang; his grandfather Yaozhi was an Extra Gentleman-in-Waiting; and his father Ying was Attendant-in-Ordinary, who died early. Once his mother dreamed that she went out and circled the city walls of Wu once; dense clouds spread on all four sides, but the center of the sky opened clear and bright, and numerous stars fell to the earth, which she took and swallowed. Thereupon she became pregnant. When [Zhi]zang was born, he was intelligent and keen from his youth, and always harbored a modest, yielding disposition. When fruit, food, robes, or bedding and deportment were all fresh and fine, he would first yield them to others and take the lowest place. On account of this, his fame resounded through his home village, where he was revered and esteemed. At the age of sixteen, he was ordained as a monk on behalf of Emperor Ming of the Song dynasty. In the sixth year of Taichu, he was decreed to reside at Xinghuang Temple. He served as disciples to Sengyuan and Sengyou of Upper Dinglin Temple, and Hongzong of Tian'an Temple; the biographies of these eminent worthies have been recorded as above. Zhizang adhered to their instructions and models, and his veneration for righteousness grew broad and deep. Once, when his master fell gravely ill and did not eat for many days, Zhizang followed suit; only when his master took a drink did Zhizang also take a drink, and only when he recovered did he resume his normal habits. From then on, his virtuous adherence to the precepts was firm and bright, and his scholarship profound and thorough; among the assembly, his realization surpassed that of his peers. At that time, the two masters [Seng]rou and [Hui]ci were renowned for their profound doctrine across the generation. At first, he received instruction from them, absorbing the scriptures and treatises and comprehensively arguing subtle principles. When they opened the debates and challenged their opponents, none could cross into their waters. Zhizang had a godlike, penetrating insight: whenever he uttered subtle words, among all those who matched strides with them, none was not subdued. Thereupon the two monks sighed with clasped hands and considered themselves inferior to him. Duke Wang, Taizhi and Prince of Wenxian under the Qi, harbored deep admiration and invited him to spend the retreat, often sighing that they had met too late. The Prince of Wenxuan, the Taizai, established orthodox scriptures and carried on the lineage of Śākya's teachings. When he was about to deliver a lecture on the Vimalakīrtinirdeśa, he sought the foremost seat; he gathered over twenty monks of refined understanding and drew lots with tally-strips, and the tally fell to Zhizang. He was the youngest in monastic seniority and sat alone at the lowest seat, yet in expounding the principles, none could rival him. Monastics and laity gathered in concord and praised his exalted renown all the more. Before this, Master Shen of Kuaiji aspired to propagate the wondrous Dharma and requested the Prince of Wenxuan to seek a lecturing master; as Zhizang's fame was universally heard and truly matched what everyone sought, he lingered in Kuaiji for many years. Those who submitted to his guidance and brought their book-boxes to learn were indeed numerous. But because he was not yet fully versed in the Vinaya section, he journeyed again to the capital; in faithful emulation of the metaphor of pouring from vase to vase, it was like the transmission of the lamp. Soon he had illuminated the Daśabhāṇavāra-vinaya and thoroughly investigated the various divisions. Before he returned to Wu commandery, the native place of this man of the Way, not a few students packed provisions and followed him. In the second year of Yongyuan, he revisited the Cave of Yu, dwelling on Mount Fahua to gather an assembly and advance the grand undertaking. When the virtue of the Qi was about to decline, the royal house fell into great turmoil; heaven and earth were blocked, and the scriptural texts and the Way were neglected. Thereupon he soared high away, wishing to end his days at the Cave of Yu. When the Liang dynasty received the mandate and greatly promoted the True Dharma, royal envoys arrived continuously, whereupon he journeyed to the capital. The Son of Heaven descended in etiquette to receive and cultivate [ties with] him, and the honorable and wealthy alike stood in awe and reverence. When the holy monk Baozhi passed away and was entombed at Mount Zhong, a stūpa was built before his tomb and a monastery was named Kaishan, which Zhizang was decreed to occupy. Earlier, before Zhizang had received the full precepts, he met Baozhi at Upper Dinglin Temple; Baozhi had pushed him forward to take the front seat, showing marks of exalted respect, which was a foreknowledge that his virtue and renown would find their rightful place. At that time, Emperor Wu of the Liang dynasty deeply revered the gate of Śākya and permitted him free access to the palace. The officials in charge, taking the view that the one who faces south before the royal screen is the unique sovereign of the realm, argued that the imperial throne was for the Son of Heaven alone to mount, and that śramaṇas should by no means share in it. Zhizang heard this and bristled with stern countenance; he immediately entered the Golden Gate, went up to the main hall, sat upon the Dharma seat, and said in a ringing voice: 'In the past, when this poor monk was Master Gu of the Wu region, I did not shrink before an imperial couch; how much less so now, having for ancestor Dīpaṅkara and being a Disciple of Śākya of the Golden Wheel! If the Dānapati wishes to kill this poor monk, kill me at once; I do not worry about lacking a place to be reborn. If you send me to the Shangfang directorate, it will not hinder my practice of the Way within the prison.' He then brushed off his clothes and stood up. The Emperor thereupon rescinded the decree and let him follow the previous practice. His towering over the Son of Heaven and elevating the gate of Śākya were all of this nature. There was an old countrywoman who was skilled at physiognomy; when she recorded good or bad fortune, she did not fail once in a hundred times. She said to Zhizang: 'The Dharma Master's intelligence and eloquence surpass the world and his name resounds across the realm, but it is a pity that your lifespan is not long; you may only reach thirty-one.' At that time, he was twenty-nine. Hearing this report of shortness of life, he halted all lecturing, exerted his utmost energy in cultivating the Way, made great vows, and did not set foot outside his door. He then searched the scriptural canon and obtained the Vajracchedikā Prajñāpāramitā; receiving, upholding, and reciting it, he dedicated his life to its devotion. Arriving at the twilight of the year of peril, he bathed in fragrant water and sat in a clean room reciting the sūtra to await the arrival of death. Soon, he heard a voice in midair saying: 'Good man! Your age of thirty-one in the past was the end of your retributive lifespan. By the power of the Prajñā Sūtra, your lifespan has been doubled.' Zhizang later left the mountain and made a test by visiting the former physiognomist, who arose in great shock and said: 'For what reason are you still in the world? Formerly I saw the sign of a short life, but now it is completely gone. A śramaṇa truly cannot be physiognomised!' Zhizang asked: 'To what age can I now reach?' She replied: 'Your facial features and bone structure indicate an age of over sixty.' Zhizang said: 'Fifty is considered a full lifespan, which is no longer premature, how much more so exceeding it!' He then told her the circumstances; the physiognomist rejoiced and was convinced. In the end, he departed the world at the close of his years, just as the physiognomist had said. Thereupon, monastics and laity east of the Yangtze vied with one another to recite this sūtra, and there were many responses and verifications, growing ever more illustrious down to the present day, with spiritual resonances repeatedly occurring. In the Datong era of the Liang, reverence for the Three Jewels stirred the darkened minds through pursuit of gain; persons of frivolous conduct indulged their desires to the lower extremes, while the vinayadharas' disciplinary networks had no effect on the outlaws. The Emperor wished to supervise the monastic officials himself and personally manage the Dharma companions; he ordered the Palace Scribes to have all who consented sign their names. At that time, among the eminent and wise, none dared resist; in silent submission they cast aside their brushes. Later, the document was presented to Zhizang; Zhizang struck a horizontal line across it with his brush and declared: 'The great ocean of the Buddhadharma is not something secular people can understand.' The Emperor examined it and did not take offense; in this manner, he rebuffed and disregarded the Lord of Ten Thousand Chariots, being the sole man in a decadent age to do so. Yet the Emperor's intention grew all the stronger, and the measure was about to be put into effect in the world. Though Zhizang had not consented later, the imperial decree had already been issued beforehand. In the evening, an assembly was held at the Huaguang Hall, and a great gathering of monks assembled; Zhizang arrived last. The Emperor said: 'Lately I have seen that monks and nuns mostly do not recite and study, and the white-robed Monastic Controllers do not understand the rules and statutes; punishing them by secular law errs on the side of excessive severity. In my spare time, I, this disciple, wish to act personally as the White-robed Monastic Controller and also establish regulations based on the Vinaya. Although this is the matter of Dharma Masters, the Buddha also entrusted it to kings. Just now I discussed it with all the monks, and they all said it was not objectionable. What is the Dharma Master's opinion?' Zhizang said: 'That Your Majesty wishes to personally oversee monastic affairs is truly to make the True Dharma illustrious. However, monks and nuns are mostly not in accord with the Vinaya; I only wish you would bestow mercy and pardon, and put this matter off.' The Emperor said: 'How could this disciple's intention be to afflict the assembly of monks? It is precisely because the secular and foolish err too heavily that we may naturally determine it based on the Vinaya. For what reason does the Dharma Master ask for mercy and pardon?' Zhizang replied: 'Your Majesty truly wishes to reduce the severe to the light, but in the latter age it is difficult for all the assembly of monks to be in accord with the Vinaya; therefore I dare beg for mercy and pardon.' The Emperor said: 'Let me ask: when monks commit transgressions, should the Buddhadharma punish them or not?' Zhizang replied: 'I humbly consider that the Buddha's principles are profound and far-reaching, and his teachings have both manifestation and concealment; my sense is that there is both punishment and non-punishment.' The Emperor said: 'I have only seen it entrusted to kings to punish them; where is there any teaching of non-punishment?' Zhizang replied: 'Devadatta was a personal case in point: the Tathāgata set him aside and did not punish him.' The Emperor said: 'In the Dharma Master's view, what kind of person was Devadatta?' Zhizang replied: 'Devadatta was truly unfathomable. Now, his manifestation of traces was precisely meant to make the teachings clear. If it were unacceptable not to punish, how could the Sage have manifested this? If one punished exclusively, then the assembly of monks could not stand; if one did not punish at all, they would likewise not stand.' The Emperor's expression changed, and he recalled and suspended his former decree. The monks, shaken with fear, went together to petition the Emperor. The Emperor said: 'Dharma Master Zhizang has the mind of a great man: what he considers right, he calls right; what he considers wrong, he calls wrong. His words are grand and expansive, and he does not burden himself with his physical body and life. The other Dharma Masters are not great men: their minds were truly not in agreement, yet their words showed no difference. Just now I had a great dispute with Master Zhizang, yet the other Dharma Masters were silent and none came to my aid; was this not because their intent was different?' The matter was thereupon dropped. Zhizang came out and told his disciples: 'That a king wishes to take the Buddhadharma as his personal duty is indeed the intention of a Mahāsattva. However, even within a single noble family of ten-odd sons, they may not necessarily conform to one's wishes; how much more so with the assembly of monks, where people from the five regions are mixed together and cannot easily be distinguished! One must simply eliminate their extremes. Moreover, the Tathāgata's precepts and Vinaya are spread in the world; if one can comply with and employ them, they are sufficient to regulate and order them. Monastic Controllers are not only of no benefit, but do immense harm. I have always wished to persuade him to abolish them; how could I endorse this matter?' Someone said: 'The principle is indeed to the utmost, but facing the anger of the Lord of Ten Thousand Chariots, how could you remain so calm?' Zhizang laughed and said: 'This was truly fearsome. But I am old; even if I flattered the decree and accommodated it, I would not live forever. Since death is not something I regret, I was at ease with it.' Later, Fayun said to the assembly: 'The Emperor could not apologize to him in terms of doctrinal principles; that day's affair is truly worthy of shame and submission.' Not long after, Zhizang was decreed to lecture on the Tattvasiddhi at Pengcheng Temple; his audience numbered over a thousand, all the outstanding talents of the time, and the scholarly community viewed it as an honor. He was also decreed to lecture on the Prajñā Sūtra at the Huilun Hall, with thirty Eminent Worthies specially decreed to attend. Zhizang's expositions and initiations of themes were each lucid and preeminent; they all took private notes to serve as materials for later transmission and study. In the spring of the final year of Tianjian, he renounced his possessions in a great confession, gathering monastics and laity, and personally lectured on the Vajracchedikā Prajñā as the utmost repentance. He retained only his robes and alms-bowl, giving away everything else completely without a single thing remaining. Xie Jiqing of Chen commandery pointed playfully at the bamboo pole for hanging robes and said: 'You still keep this object; do you still have attachment?' Zhizang said: 'The body is not yet extinguished; how could attachment be ended?' Yet still harboring a desire for a tranquil place, he set his thoughts upon the mountains and forests; returning to reside at Kaishan, he ceased treading in the secular world. When he was occasionally summoned to imperial assemblies, he submitted a memorial declining: 'Looking back on the past, my mind was confused and uncontrolled; I wished to rely on a single word of the Buddha to discipline myself in seclusion. Yet I drifted along with conditions for over twenty years; in youth and strength, it could still be pardoned. Now that I am old and sick, both body and mind are waning; if I fall back by even a fraction, I will no longer be able to discipline myself. Therefore, my wish is to reside in a quiet place to preserve myself a little, not daring to act aloof from the world to seek fame, nor wishing to indulge myself in ease. It is simply the immediate feeling of an ordinary man, fearing that the road ahead is already closing in.' The Emperor replied with an imperial letter of instruction: 'Seeking emptiness to ease oneself and entering wisdom relying on emptiness—to withdraw high and nourish one's spirit is truly an exquisite joy. It does not transgress the Three Vehicles, and I also rejoice accordingly. Yet at the moment of parting, how can one not feel desolate? Words of parting given at the crossroads were valued by the ancients. I still advise the Dharma Master to practice with an unhindered mind, with great compassion foremost and skillful means to benefit others; adapt to the times in adopting and discarding, and do not abruptly shut them out. To practice the Bodhisattva Way with a mind of obstruction is without justification.' The imperial decrees went back and forth repeatedly and for a long time, yet his resolve remained unchanged. When the Emperor was about to receive the Bodhisattva Precepts, he ordered the Monastic Controller to present a roster of senior monks of eminent reputation. At that time, Chaozheng drew up a roster consisting of Fashen, Huiyue, and Zhizang; the Emperor's intention lay with Zhizang, and so he chose him. The Crown Prince especially showed him respectful treatment; intending to perform the etiquette of facing north as a disciple, he proceeded with reverence and devotion, his vermilion carriage slowly moving with horns clearing the road, lowering his status in humility to go and pay him court, following his precepts and rules to make him his eternal Master and Instructor. He also requested him to lecture on the Mahāparinirvāṇa at the temple, personally attending the canopy seat to present questions and inquiries; court dignitaries, celebrated talents of the day, monastics, and laity filled the hall, and the magnificence of the Dharma banquet had never been heard of before. Later, at the Northern Pavilion, he further invited him to engage in discourse; all sighed and said: 'To have participated in this supreme gathering is something never before experienced.' Zhizang let himself float like an empty boat and practiced equality in true action; he was unmoved by praise and blame, and honors and profit never tainted him. Sitting peacefully in seclusion, he stood firm like a mountain. Though his spiritual realm was detached and his demeanor pure and lofty, when responding to others, he seemed so anxious as if he had not done enough; he could be called 'looking imposing from afar, yet warm when approached'—one who embodied the changes of a gentleman. Ever since he revealed himself in the cliffs and caves, concealing his form from human society, he additionally built six dhūta huts separately in the mountain recesses outside the temple, all of which were thatched cottages just large enough to fit one's knees. When the Crown Prince heard of this, he went to tour them, and composed poems before returning; the last verse said: 'Not that I take delight in leisurely wandering, / But that I wish to know the Ji and Ying.' Zhizang focused his mind beyond the world and constantly performed repentance. In all six periods of the day, he looked up with reverence at the spiritual images and said: 'The flavor of the principle is deep and profound; when my shallow thoughts ponder it, I harbour doubts and obstacles of my own, and fear I may deviate from the sage's intent and commit many errors.' Thereupon, his earnest words and tears flowed together. Once he stayed the night at Lingyao Temple; walking at night, he briefly concentrated his mind and saw a golden light shining, with the entire room brightly illuminated. When people asked the reason, he replied: 'The wonder within this cannot be spoken of.' That morning he fell ill, until his condition became critical. Imperial messengers from the Emperor and the Crown Prince came in sight of each other, and monastics and laity of the fourfold assembly inquired after him day and night. An order was given to establish a vegetarian feast for him, and a prayer text was composed by the Emperor's own hand, along with continuous medicine; but his physical health did not improve, and his condition only worsened without abating. Facing his end, his words and countenance were composed and correct, and his final words were solely devoted to propagating the Dharma. On the tenth day of the ninth month in the third year of Putong, he passed away in his temple room at the age of sixty-five. By imperial decree, he was buried at Mount Dulong; those attending the funeral filled the road, and they jointly erected stelae, one at the tomb and one within the monastery. Xiao Ji, the Governor of Xin'an, composed the text; Xiao Yi, Prince of Xiangdong, composed the inscription; and Yin Jun of Chen commandery, Household Provisioner to the Crown Prince, erected the epitaph. Earlier, Zhizang often dreamed that the Tathāgata Jinsu entered his room and conversed with him, holding two fly-whisks, one decorated with jewels and the other plain; he left the plain one with Zhizang. Moreover, the recluse He Yin of Lujiang, while residing at Mount Huqiu in Wu commandery, met a divine monk holding a case of books who said: 'Someone came and entrusted words to me,' and in an instant he vanished. When he opened the case and looked, he could not recognize the text at all; later, he asked a monk from the Wei, who said: 'These are two folios from the middle of the Mahālaṃkāra-śāstra.' The people of the time all said it was brought about by Zhizang. Furthermore, Liu Hun of Pengcheng committed a crime punishable by death; Zhizang was then in the inner hall expounding the meaning of the four immeasurables for the Emperor, when the memorial was presented from outside. The Emperor said: 'Now, on account of state affairs, I cannot speak of the four immeasurables; what should be done?' Zhizang said: 'Words and actions must take advantage of the opportunity; now the opportunity arises and is missed—whose fault is it? The setting forth of the four immeasurables is not done in vain.' The Emperor thereupon set the matter aside and did not pursue it, and Liu ultimately escaped execution. Liu never knew the reason for this in the end; his covert help and benefits bestowed on others were mostly of this kind. In all, he lectured on the Pañcaviṃśatisāhasrikā and Aṣṭasāhasrikā Prajñāpāramitā, Mahāparinirvāṇa, Saddharmapuṇḍarīka, Daśabhūmika, Suvarṇaprabhāsa, Tattvasiddhi, Śata-śāstra, and Abhidharmahṛdaya, and authored commentaries on each that circulated in the world.