續高僧傳 10
English (machine translation) 10
- Language
- English
10.1
Compiled by Shi Daoxuan, Śramaṇa of Ximing Temple of the Great Tang
10.2
Section on Doctrinal Exegesis, Part Six: Seventeen Main Biographies, Five Appended
10.3
Biography of Shi Jingsong of Chongshang Bodhimaṇḍa in Pengcheng, Sui (1)
10.4
Biography of Shi Jingxuan of Great Chanding Bodhimaṇḍa in the Western Capital, Sui (2) (Mingze)
10.5
Biography of Shi Zhirun, Śramaṇa of Xiangyang, Sui (3)
10.6
Biography of Shi Zhiru of Mount Huqiu in Wujun, Sui (4)
10.7
Biography of Shi Huikuang of Mount Nie in Danyang, Sui (5)
10.8
Biography of Shi Zhilin of Renxiao Bodhimaṇḍa in Danyang, Sui (6)
10.9
Biography of Shi Jingyuan of Baocha Bodhimaṇḍa in the Western Capital, Sui (7)
10.10
Biography of Shi Zhingning of Chanding Bodhimaṇḍa in the Western Capital, Sui (8) (Lingjue, Daozhuo)
10.11
Biography of Shi Fayan of Zhenji Bodhimaṇḍa in the Western Capital, Sui (9)
10.12
Biography of Shi Fazong of Haijue Bodhimaṇḍa in the Western Capital, Sui (10)
10.13
Biography of Shi Sengtan of Daxingshan Bodhimaṇḍa in the Western Capital, Sui (11) (Huizhong)
10.14
Biography of Shi Lingcan of Great Chanding Bodhimaṇḍa in the Western Capital, Sui (12)
10.15
Biography of Shi Fazan of Shengguang Bodhimaṇḍa in the Western Capital, Sui (13)
10.16
Biography of Shi Baoru of Jingying Bodhimaṇḍa in the Western Capital, Sui (14)
10.17
Biography of Shi Huizui of Guangming Bodhimaṇḍa in the Western Capital, Sui (15)
10.18
Biography of Shi Senglang of Chanding Bodhimaṇḍa in the Western Capital, Sui (16)
10.19
Biography of Shi Huichang of Jingying Bodhimaṇḍa in the Western Capital, Sui (17) (Sengwen)
10.20
Shi Jingsong’s secular surname was Zhang, and he was a native of Gu'an in Zhuo commandery. From his youth he held firm virtue, standing out from the crowd. Driven by mundane dust, he aspired to the work of the Way, and at fifteen he entered the monastic life (pravrajyā). He had a fellow student, Jingrong, who had mastered the sūtras and treatises early on, encompassing both the Small and Great [Vehicles], and was especially thoroughly versed in the Miśrakābhidharma-hṛdaya-śāstra (*Za xin lun). He would always unfold and impart the profound essentials of the Buddhist school in detail. Song was superior in spiritual brilliance and naturally gifted with acute understanding. As he examined the doctrinal categories, he revisited their commentaries and refined his understanding; furthermore, when his thoughts plumbed unfathomable depths, he turned around and questioned Rong, and Rong had no answer. Thereupon Rong told him, “At such a tender age as a junior student, your penetrating awakening is like this. You may proceed to the capital city of Ye; you will surely become a vessel of deliverance.” When he reached adulthood and received full ordination, he traveled south to the imperial metropolis on the Zhang River. This coincided with the zenith of the Northern Qi, a period of Buddhist revival. Within the capital, large monasteries were roughly counted at four thousand, and the resident monks and nuns numbered nearly eighty thousand; lecture seats were spaced more than two hundred apart, and regular attendees in the congregations exceeded ten thousand. Thus the talents and heroes of the realm all gathered in that state. At Daxue Monastery there was Dharma Master Rongzhi, an outstanding disciple of Fashang, the National Controller of Monks (guotong) of the Great Qi. His understanding surpassed the many masters, and his realization of the Way illuminated the two piṭakas. His five hundred students rubbed shoulders as they carried their book bundles. He constantly lectured on the Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra and the Daśabhūmika-śāstra (*Di lun). When Song heard of this, he devoted his sincerity to him. Facing north as a disciple, he assiduously studied for several years; repeating what he heard, he constantly struck upon marvelous realizations. Thereupon the students looked up to him and collectively deferred to him as a master. Furthermore, considering that the foundation of the essential practices must begin with the restraints of the precepts, he went to the quarters of the two Vinaya Masters Yun and Hui, widely seeking clear instruction. Inquiring for two years, he surveyed the cardinal points and specific rules. There was only the Hīnayāna which he had not yet had the leisure to examine in detail; he then studied under the two great treatise masters Daoyou and Fadan, receiving in person the two traditions of the Tattvasiddhi-śāstra (*Cheng shi lun) and the Miśrakābhidharma-hṛdaya-śāstra. He inquired into the deep and obscure, continuing to master what remained. Several hundred monks each opened the dragon gate, dividing like phoenix wings. When it came to Song’s place and turn, he went through the scripture five times; on the side, he explored the Mahāvibhāṣā, Kātyāyana, Śāriputra, and others. Wonderfully discerning the literary principles, he repeatedly stirred enduring spirits. Then he also widely examined the various scriptures, taking them as models to debate the Way. His force overwhelmed the eight positions, and his eloquence was styled “flying in four directions.” He strode alone across rivers and mountains, acting as a vessel for the Three Baskets. Relying upon him and consulting him were the outstanding figures of the time, radiant with wisdom. King of Langye of the Qi held him in high esteem and fostered his elegant style. Every year at the beginning of spring, he widely invited student companions to a great assembly in the capital Ye, specially opening a Dharma seat and honoring Song as the lord of the Dharma to encourage and spur the disciples. Song thereby guided them to awakening, turning it into a ford of crossing; he harmonized cold and heat, transmitting fragrance and following in illustrious footsteps, his renown resounding east of the river. Soon after, Emperor Wu of Northern Zhou eradicated the Buddhist community, scattering it in ruin. Song then, along with his fellow students Fagui, Lingkan, and more than three hundred other monks, moved from the north to the south, arriving in Jiangzuo. Emperor Xuan of Chen admired his virtuous fame from afar; following this breeze, he welcomed and invited him. He ordered Sanji Changshi Yuan Xian to go to the fortress of Jingkou to respectfully receive him when he came ashore. The Emperor also sent the imperial son-in-law Cai Ning to proclaim an imperial decree: “The supreme man acts for the Dharma, dedicating his body to the Way. The Dharma masters understand order and disorder well, finding refuge in proper sequence; they may be called upright gentlemen harboring the Way, truly deeply praiseworthy. They should be installed in the great monasteries of the capital district, and the relevant officials must supply them thoroughly and abundantly.” He further ordered the recommendation of senior elders learned in doctrine to propagate the semblance teaching. At that time, the Monastic Rectifier (sengzheng) of Jianye ordered Song and Gui to jointly propagate the minor treatises. His spirit and reason were unhindered and smooth, his resourcefulness and courage foremost of the time; his fellow students living nearby numbered more than five hundred. Dividing their studies by the water clock, his flourishing accomplishments were fresh and remarkable. There was an Indian Tripiṭaka master named Paramārtha (Qin’yi), who brought the Mahāyānasaṃgraha (*She lun) and the Sheshan lun to convert the remote borderlands. He had arrived at the end of the Liang and lived through the Chen dynasty; for more than twenty years, there was no place to propagate them. Though they were translated and spread, no lectures on them were heard. Only Song uniquely cultivated a profound mind, relishing these texts. Whenever there was a break in lecturing, he would visit the śramaṇa Fatai to consult and resolve doubts. Within a few years, he had thoroughly mastered the two works. From the treatises on Buddha-nature, the Middle and Extremes (Madhyāntavibhāga), formlessness (Alakṣaṇa), consciousness-only (Vijñaptimātra), diverse views (Samayabhedoparacanacakra), and others—more than forty works in all—he grasped their central outlines and analyzed and harmonized their distinctions. When Emperor Gao of the Sui pacified the Baiyue, scripts and cart-tracks were unified. In the tenth year of Kaihuang (590), an imperial decree granted permission to both officials and commoners: those wishing to leave householder life were all allowed to do so. At that time, the newly ordained monks numbered more than five hundred thousand; newly bathed in conversion, they could not yet be said to know the ford. Song, Lingkan, and about two hundred monks, seeing the opportunity to board the ferry, returned together north of the river. Reaching the region of Xu, they vigorously opened lecture halls. The Supreme Pillar of the State and Area Commander of Xuzhou, Qifu Linghe, led his subordinates to jointly invite him to reside at the former Prince of Jingzhao Monastery. They submitted a detailed memorial to the throne, and an imperial decree granted the temple plaque with the name Songsheng Monastery. From then on, the wheel of the Dharma turned constantly. The regions of the Yangzi and Huai were permeated with moisture, causing the conversion to shift north of the river. One after another, people took to the road, flocking to him in anticipation to consult on the Mahāyānasaṃgraha. Song’s learning was indebted to Paramārtha, and its meaning truly derived from Vasubandhu. His thought went beyond words, his tone was lofty and transmitted to posterity, and the ultimate tenets of the Great Vehicle were thereby made clear. From this time on, he led the masters across the nine provinces, and his writings were handed down throughout the four seas. He authored the She lun shu (Commentary on the Mahāyānasaṃgraha) in six fascicles and the Za xin shu (Commentary on the Miśrakābhidharma-hṛdaya-śāstra) in five fascicles; he also composed profound treatises on the nine consciousnesses, the three piṭakas, the three clusters of precepts, and the two forms of birth-and-death, all of which circulated in the world and were revered by contemporaries. When Emperor Wen of Sui performed the Feng and Shan sacrifices at Mount Tai and the imperial carriage visited Qi and Lu, scholars of the Guan region, following along, passed through the district of Xu; they went to Song’s Dharma hall, bowed in admiration, and received instruction. Because of this, his disciples became even more numerous, and his commentaries and subcommentaries circulated widely. Formerly, when Emperor Yang of Sui governed the Yang and Yue regions, he established four sanctuaries, and his teachings and invitations hastened forth; Song, however, declined them all. When the Emperor ascended the imperial throne, an imperial decree summoned him again; he firmly refused, and the summoning ceased. His disciples asked him why, and he replied, “The royal city has boundaries, and conduct is strict and difficult. Although there are interior sanctuaries, they are not as good as being outside mundane affairs. A śramaṇa is called ‘liberated’; why should one conversely burden oneself with official tasks? I once traveled to both capitals and repeatedly encountered upheavals; I am weary of such toil.” He always remained pure and frugal, cultivating personal purity, establishing a private sanctuary where he daily performed reverent recitations and cultivated pure karma. His lectures on the Way continued uninterrupted, spurring the assembly through the six periods of the day. His rigorous asceticism had lasted nearly thirty years; the places where his head, hands, and knees pressed against the ground were all indented into hollows, resembling human molds. The signs of his venerable conduct were clear like this. Naturally, many treatise masters were confused about the intent of practice, yet Song respectfully observed the monastic statutes without ever breaching propriety. Once, when it rained and his washing jug was in the courtyard, fearing that he might harm the nature of the earth, he had a pure person lift it before he would use it. Fellow scholars all revered and stood in awe of his moderation. In addition, by nature he loved literary elegance and occasionally wrote poems and eulogies; furthermore, he delighted in forests and springs, frequently climbing and hiking. His works of history, seal script, and clerical script survive to this day, and in worldly discourses and lively discussions, he left a substantial legacy. Suddenly, in the tenth year of Daye (614), he contracted an illness and died at his monastery at the age of seventy-eight. Dong Chun, Guanglu Daifu, Area Defender of Pengcheng Route, and Duke of Shunzheng, together with the clergy and laity within his jurisdiction, buried him on the plains of Shengao. In the past, Daoji of Yizhou had attended his final gatherings; drinking in his influence and imbibing his virtue, lamenting the resting place of his wandering spirit, and grieving the desolation of his tomb tunnel, he composed his biographical account, which circulated widely in the world.
10.21
Shi Jingxuan’s secular surname was Zhao, and he was a native of Tianshui. His intellect and tolerance were profound and broad, his pure discernment clear and farsighted. At the age of seven he was admitted as a student of the commandery school; he diligently read through three winters, his skills encompassing the six classics. When the imperial Sui began its dynastic fortunes, he took up the teachings of Laozi and Zhang Daoling, his name enlisted among the Yellow Turbans and his person dwelling in Daoist abodes. Inhaling the mist and exhaling the heavy shade, he constantly reflected: “The Five Thousand Words on the Way and Its Virtue are truly not the path to ultimate truth; the seven precepts of ascension are originally empty pretense.” He then cast off his Daoist cap and coarse robe to don this saṃghāṭī robe, purifying his mind to specialize in the sutra section. When he was of the age of a novice (śrāmaṇera), he frequently ascended the seats of Dharma masters; Chinese and foreigners admired him, and both monks and laity fixed their gaze on him. After receiving full ordination, his renown rose higher still, causing his teachings to spread over Longxi and bring glory to the Yellow River and Luoyang regions. Seeing that in Qin and Liang, remote and strategically key, the Buddha Dharma was frivolous and extravagant, and desiring to tie up its broken net and spread this surviving snare, he drew up an outline of the essential tasks of the true Dharma and presented it in a memorial to Emperor Wen. He was granted an imperial decree assenting to and praising his words, promoting and encouraging him; down in the region west of the Yellow River, his regulations were promulgated and adopted. Crown Prince Yuande, hearing of his widespread sweet fragrance, longed for and admired him with bows, and issued an instruction summoning him from afar to the capital. Xuan then respectfully received this fine benevolence and came soaring to the imperial city. An order was given for him to broadly propagate a Dharma assembly at Daxingshan Sanctuary. With light carriages and ringing jade pendants, leaning on his staff and carrying his water pot, all gathered to observe the wind [of his virtue], and the sound of his virtue reached everywhere. Unfolding and mastering the body of the treatises, he dispersed traces of doubt, enabling questioners to find clarity and exert their full effort upon passing through his gate. At that time, Dharma Master Can, sitting among the assembly, addressed him, saying, “Among the doctrinal companions of the He and Liang regions, Daolang was famed; down to the present day, you now follow in his tracks. A generation cannot be lacking; this man is here!” Because of this, his renown became prominent in the capital, and he stepped forth loftily at ease. When Emperor Gaozu passed away and the Daxiangguo Chanding Monastery was built, Xuan was invited by imperial decree to reside there. Constantly turning the wheel of the brahma teaching, he was an eminent master to not a few. On the twenty-ninth day of the first month in the seventh year of Daye (611), he passed away without illness at the age of forty-three. In life, Xuan’s discourse had always made compassion its primary aim; he often promised to abandon his corpse in the forest wilderness. A companion śramaṇa from Tianshui, Huiyan, recalled his past words and sent his body to the foot of the mountain. When the flesh had been consumed, he gathered the remaining skeleton and constructed this brick stupa on the western peak of Longchi Monastery on Mount Zhongnan, erecting an inscription at the stupa to manifest his virtue. The śramaṇa Mingze composed the text. Ze was originally a native of Ji; he was conversant with the dark learning (Xuanxue) and Confucianism, endowed with talent and wisdom, and was hesitant in speech but agile in action, exceptionally maintaining the ancestral line. Although his literary talent flourished, it was not initially appreciated by the times. When he composed the stele for Jueguan Monastery, people still did not comprehend it. Vice Director of the Right Yang Su saw it and marveled at it; only after this single look did Ze’s reputation rise. He was memorialized to reside at Sanshan Monastery of the Renshou Palace. When scripture translation was carried out in the Eastern Capital, he was again summoned into the translation bureau to take charge of compiling and editing. At the end of the Sui, he died at his residence; a collected work of his circulated in the world. Xue Daoheng would often say, “Master Ze’s writings repeatedly emit new splendor, radiantly shining alone.” Such was the esteem he received from the worthy figures of the time.
10.22
Shi Zhirun, whose family name is unknown, was a native of Xiangyang. Having awakened on his own without a master, he naturally wearied of worldly life; wandering through villages and fields, he inquired about the path of leaving home. Hearing that the Buddha Dharma was flourishing in Ye and that the Ten Controllers of Monks were thriving, with their fine renown gushing forth to overflow heaven and earth, Run could not contain his joy, leaping and restless. At the age of twenty, he hastened from afar to go there. It happened that Controller Zun was expounding the Daśabhūmika-śāstra (*Di lun), so he followed him and undertook his studies. Before the seasons had changed, he frequently joined the review debates; the veterans of the northern regions deferred to him from a distance. Later he studied the Avataṃsaka Sūtra and the Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra, both of which added to his prominence. He also heard the Dharmaguptaka Vinaya (*Sifen lü) from Controller Guang, grasping its literary phrases; simultaneously he studied the minor treatises, completely distinguishing what was viable and obstructed, and at that time was called broad and erudite, with few able to surpass him. Later, hearing that the Three Treatises (Sanlun) were being broadly propagated in the Jiangnan region, and since this was his original wish, he returned from afar without delay. It happened that Master Bian of Changgan was currently the foremost teacher; Run joined to listen and receive instruction, delightfully attaining awakening. As the principles of the texts were profound, he stayed for many years. Later he returned to the south of the Han River, where he regularly taught and guided others. His conversion moved the riverbanks, giving birth to good roots among both clergy and laity. In the early Daye era, he was invited to reside at Huiri Monastery; the measure of his vast learning overflowed even more than before. It coincided with the expedition to Liaodong, for which merit was sought from mountains and waterways; an imperial decree ordered Run to Min and Shu to offer sacrifices and prayers to the river god. When he returned to the Western Capital, he died of illness; he passed away at Chanding Monastery at the age of seventy-five, in the tenth year of Daye (614).
10.23
Śramaṇa Zhiju, whose secular surname was Zhu, lived at Dongshan Monastery on Mount Huqiu in Suzhou. His lucid and far-reaching spirit was already manifest while he was swaddled in infancy. Deeply weary of the worldly cage, he delighted in aspiring to the vast and boundless. He first turned to Dharma Master Yin of Wuqiu. Yin's weight of religious practice and learning made him an exemplar of that age. Without wasting an inch of time, Ju tirelessly requested instruction in the profound teachings. Gu Xiping of the same commandery and Xie Junyue of Kuaiji, storehouses of meaning and markets of the scriptures, the finest men of the Southeast, both revered his elevated virtue and bowed together before his untainted reputation. Because of this, he became well-versed in both Confucianism and Mohism, and carried forward both the absolute and the conventional truths. Penetrating several fathoms of the palace wall, he truly attained the gate [of knowledge]. Barely past twenty years of age, he was already expounding the teachings. Master Chao of Zhuangyan, fresh and solid as an authority, soared like an eagle for myriad generations. Thereupon Ju devoted his heart to inquiring and questioning him, considering a journey of a hundred stages not too distant. Once his eloquence shone forth with precision, all doubtful blockages were resolved. Zhou Hongzheng of Runan, who was widely conversant in inner and outer teachings and a connoisseur of human character, constantly sighed in admiration of him, considering him a precious vessel of the Buddhist fold. Prince Boshan of Poyang, Prince Bozhou of Xin'an, and Prince Shuqi of Xincai of the Chen dynasty all set aside their noble rank to seek the Way, repeatedly inviting him to expound the Dharma. In the second year of the Zhide era, by imperial decree he lectured on the Suvarṇaprabhāsa Sūtra in the Taiji Hall. The Son of Heaven attended the Dharma assembly in person, and the entire retinue of officials was present. Ju was thus able to let his words pour forth like a suspended torrent and shake the wooden clapper. His eloquence had rare grace, transcending the ordinary and entering the marvelous. If any held to shortcuts or minor paths and adhered to deviant doctrines, all without exception turned their carriages around, kept silent, reformed their minds, and changed their ways. The ruler sighed in admiration and praised him for a long time. In the third year of the Zhide era, he encountered mourning for his mother. Weeping tears of blood and harboring deep grief, he was nearly brought to utter ruin. On this account, he returned to his old hometown and stayed at the Dongshan hermitage. Unceasing in skillful exposition, he turned the wheel of the Dharma continuously. In the eleventh year of the Kaihuang era, an imperial edict was issued, conveying earnest and attentive solicitations: 'The Dharma master has sheltered his person in the pure realm and directed his aspirations to the Dharma gate. He broadly proclaims the correct teachings for all sentient beings, diligently cultivates merits, guides and encourages his Dharma disciples, concentrates his mind on lecturing and chanting, and widely delivers all creatures. We admire his virtuous work and commend it exceedingly.' Yang Su, Duke of Chu and President of the Department of State Affairs, and Su Wei, Duke of the State of Pi and Left Vice President, both personally arrived at his monastery to touch his feet and bow with their heads to the ground. They all gave away pure wealth to provide for his bodily needs. In the thirteenth year, an imperial decree ordered the establishment of monastic offices. Monastics and laypeople made entreaties for him to assume the post of equanimity. Ju took it upon himself to guide these people with the elegant way, meeting worldly affairs with a straightforward mind; under him, the concordant community was serene like a gentle breeze. At that time, Commander-in-chief Lord Liu of the imperial house had long looked up to his lofty name and constantly revered his abounding virtue. When he arrived to oversee the garrison, he invited him to serve as master of the Bodhisattva Precepts. Prince Jian of Qi, as a noble son of the emperor, served as governor of Huaihai. He dispatched a written instruction reaching the mountain to invite him, saying: 'Since your disciple arrived at old Chu, heat and cold have swiftly alternated many times. I have long heard from afar of your untainted discipline. Respectfully I understand that you have dwelt in secluded mountain valleys for many years; your spiritual breeze and extraordinary presence stand unique in our present day. Your virtue indeed surpasses Huiyuan of Donglin; your wisdom excels Daozhen and Kumārajīva. You brightly uphold this torch of wisdom to enlighten all who are lost, walking alone across Jiangdong—how exceedingly marvelous! I have not yet been able to resolve my doubts, nor sit at the foot of your mat to partake of your high principles. Toiling like the loom's shuttles, my heart is filled with yearning. The crags of Mount Huqiu are not distant by water, and the waves of Xianglu meet in the mist and smoke. My heart wishes you will shake your robes of patience and answer this earnest hope.' Ju firmly declined on grounds of illness, and the matter did not come to pass. The prince set out a terrace, showing him deeper reverence, and frequently sent envoys to request the propagation of the great teaching. Ju only wished that his intent be separate from human society and his mind at ease among rivers and lakes; writing earnest and mournful letters, he firmly requested to return to the east. The prince, magnanimous beyond measure, enabled his long-cherished wish to be fulfilled, supplying his needs and seeing him off with great ceremony. Thereupon Ju left early, taking along cooked rice, and returned to dwell at the mountain monastery. He manifested illness for a full ten days, yet his spiritual faculties suffered no decline. On the twenty-fourth day of the eleventh month of the fifth year of the Daye era, he passed away at his original residence. His countenance appeared as if still alive; warmth lingered on his crown and his body remained supple, all as in ordinary life. According to past records, these are signs of spiritual attainment. His earthly age was seventy-two. In the twelfth month of that year, he was buried on the southern peak of the mountain. Ju by nature took refuge in tranquil detachment, his mind calm and unhurried. Treating worldly encounters with an even heart, he held vast magnanimity within. He discarded both attachment to Chu and Yue and worries over gain and loss. The square inch of his heart was leisurely and rarely fathomable. Blessed with an attractive demeanor and adept at conversation and laughter, he lingered in appreciative understanding, making onlookers forget to return. In addition, he was untiring in joyful exposition, never failing in his dhāraṇī retention. He lectured on the Pañcaviṃśatisāhasrikā-prajñāpāramitā Sūtra, the Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra, the Saddharmapuṇḍarīka Sūtra, and others twenty times each; as for individual sūtras suitable for specific occasions, they could hardly be fully recorded. Moreover, he lived with pure frugality, without ornaments or playthings. Apart from his robes and bowl, everything was given away as dāna according to need. Inside his ten-foot room, the bare chamber was austere; between the table and couch, there were only texts and commentaries. Thus his Way flourished for a time and his name was prominent in his generation. He made an eighteen-foot statue of Rocana, an image of Amitāyus, and an auspicious statue of Jingzhou to be worshipped at the monastery, and also built two Buddha halls to the west of the stream, with encircling corridors on all sides, complete in the two kinds of adornment. His disciple Daogong and nephew Daoshun, whose virtues made them foremost leaders, caused the transmission of the lamp to flourish. They ventured to erect a lofty stele to make known his brilliant conduct, for which Palace Library Secretary Yu Shinan composed the text.
10.24
Śramaṇa Huikuang, whose secular surname was Cao, was a native of the Qiao commandery. His lineage subsequently branched off, so that his descendants were people of Xiangyang. His grandfather, Liangzong, served the Liang dynasty as Gentleman of the Yellow Gate Attendant-in-ordinary and Chief Minister of the Guards. His father, Ai, was a General of the Palace Gates. Kuang's refined talents were apparent from his tender years; by nature filial and respectful, he was inherently noble and incorruptible. At twelve he went forth from household life and served Dharma Master Cheng of Baoguang Monastery in Jiangling. Diligent in observing ritual precepts, he reverently attended to the instructional screen, illuminating profound tenets so as to far excel his peers. Later he took leave of his fellows on the imperial banks to seek the Way in the royal capital, dwelling at Lvxing Monastery and listening to lectures from Pengcheng. The mystical gate was thus unlocked, and the great doctrines thoroughly mastered. Preparing to adapt to local circumstances and sequentially propagate the teachings, he, together with Master Zongkai, Master Zhuyun, and others, met Paramārtha and received the Mahāyānasaṃgraha, Vijñaptimātratā treatises, the Suvarṇaprabhāsa Sūtra, and other scriptures. Before long, Paramārtha entered nirvāṇa, and his fellow Dharma companions dispersed. Kuang then dwelt on Mount Kuang alongside his fellow student Sengzong, dividing their time to expound the Dharma, whereby its transformation grew ever more prosperous. The regional governors, the Prince of Poyang and the Prince of Changsha, both observed the courtesies of disciple toward master. Later he propagated the Way in Xiangzhou and Yingzhou for many years; although he had long forgotten personal attachments to kin, the debt of gratitude to his native land awaited repayment. In the first year of the Zhide era of the Chen dynasty—the third year of the Kaihuang era of the Sui—he returned to his former town, transmitting scriptures and guiding people at the Bianxue Bodhimanda. Because Kuang was rigorous and meticulous in his vinaya practice and comprehensive in his doctrinal understanding, he was looked up to by both monastics and laity, who entrusted him with the administration of the community. He presided over it for eight years, gathering together the assembly. Later he received an imperial decree to move to Xingguo Monastery, where monastic duties were entrusted to him; imperial edicts were issued twice, and fragrant curd was repeatedly bestowed. Prince Xiao of Qin, holding the noble rank of an imperial prince, raised his standard over Xiangmian; hearing of Kuang's reputation and yearning for his virtue, he personally received the refuges and precepts from him. When Emperor Yang ascended the throne, it befell him to honor the worthy and taste the Way; hence he dispatched an imperial envoy to have Kuang reside near the imperial carriage. Arriving at Jiangyang on the road, Kuang declined on grounds of illness and did not appear. By imperial decree, he was allowed to nurse his illness at Qixia Mountain Monastery in Danyang. Naturally aligned with the character of pines and bamboos and finding solace for his spirit among springs and rocks, his appreciation and affection were joined, and his entangling illness was banished. In the Dharma hall of Qixia, he again expounded the Mahāprajñāpāramitā-śāstra; those with new learning and old veterans alike spoke of superior understandings. Furthermore, he returned to the dhyāna quarters of Shanshan, which was originally the Qixuan hermitage, a surviving trace of Prince Wenxuan of Jingling and the lingering legacy of Dhyāna Master Huixiao. Blessed with the marvel of mirroring ponds and moonlit trees, and the wonder of cloud pavilions and mountain halls, it was a place where he had once wandered, giving rise to his wish to spend his final days there. Later he took his disciples and moved to rest there; the cliffs and valleys wiped away worldly desires, and the mist and clouds offered delight in a realm of lofty transcendence. Those who cherished the true and yearned for righteousness gathered here once again. On the sixteenth day of the fifth month of the ninth year of the Daye era, he passed away in his monastery room, at the age of eighty. Warmth lingered on his crown for a long time, and two fingers of his hand curled; this was another sign of higher birth and attainment of the Way. On the twentieth day of that month, he was interred on the western mountain of the monastery. His disciples erected a stele to record his virtues, for which Śramaṇa Faxuan of Changzhou composed the text.
10.25
Śramaṇa Zhilin, whose surname was Lvqiu, was a native of Fangyu in Gaoping. His grandfather, Yan, lived in leisure and spurned worldly affairs. His father, Tanzhen, was an Attendant-in-ordinary in the Liang state. In Lin's tender years, his good reputation was evident in his local community. The retired scholar Bian Quan, famous in that era, was sought out by Lin in his youth, who respectfully requested instruction from him. The Book of Rites, Book of Changes, Zhuangzi, and Laozi—he plumbed the profound mysteries of them all. Quan praised his early intelligence, naming him a rare divine prodigy. When his virtues were matured, he detached himself from secular life and served Śramaṇa Fadun of Renxiao Monastery, adhering to the protocols of filial nourishment and receiving the novice precepts of resting benevolence. Sustaining himself on vegetarian fare with bitter austerity, he devoted his mind to cultivation, memorizing and upholding the Lotus Sūtra and Vimalakīrtinirdeśa Sūtra. Since Fadun passed away before Lin's ordination precepts were fully completed, Lin strode to the capital to further pursue a master's path, taking refuge in the Great Saṅgha Director, Master Xu of Dong'an Monastery. Once he had the capacity to receive them, the śīla was complete; he then received the Satyasiddhi-śāstra and studied the Vinaya. Having attained broad learning and retentive power, he prepared to spread and transmit the teachings. Looking toward his home prefecture, he thought to repay the debt of gratitude to his native place. In the tenth year of the Taijian era of the Chen dynasty, he returned to his old hometown. The Inspector of Nanxuzhou, Xiao Mohe, treated him with extraordinary courtesy and invited him to expound the teachings. Thereupon, dwelling prominently as an ancestral master, he vigorously turned the wheel of the Dharma; those who received instruction and sought knowledge were indeed numerous. In the eleventh year, an imperial decree appointed him Saṅgha Director of Qu'a. In the second year of the Zhide era, an imperial decree appointed him Saṅgha Controller of Xuzhou; that he was hailed as foremost was truly due to his elevation on account of virtue. In the sixteenth year of the Kaihuang era, the Inspector of Runzhou, Li Haiyou, invited him to act as judicial adjudicator; the administration of the order was entrusted to him, fulfilling everyone's expectations. The Renxiao Monastery where he resided was built when Tan Sengshao, the former Advisory Officer of the General Who Campaigns in the West under the Liang, gave up his residence. Just as the halls were first erected, times of disorder quickly arrived. Lin then succeeded to the craftsmanship, adding decorative touches; the splendid and spacious magnificence indeed owed much to his efforts. Earlier and later, he fashioned five medium-sized statues and one dry-lacquer statue, their divine forms shining brightly with marks and signs solemn and prominent. Moreover, atop Mount Yuwang, he built a five-tiered brick pagoda, modeled after the eighty thousand [pagodas] built simultaneously in a single period of supreme wonder. He gave lectures on the Pañcaviṃśatisāhasrikā-prajñāpāramitā, the Lotus, the Vimalakīrtinirdeśa, and the Suvarṇaprabhāsa, each for a fixed number of series. The disciples he ordained numbered over a thousand. He always considered that among the essential points of approaching the Way, nothing surpassed dhyāna. Because Zhaoyin Monastery was outside worldly dust, with mountain chambers quiet and solitary and dense woods secluded and deep, he had the wish to spend his final days and dwell there, but being constrained by obstacles of circumstance, it was not realized. Nonetheless, gentle yet solemn in his self-restraint, he taught and guided without weariness; he accumulated no wealth or precious curiosities, giving them away according to circumstance to provide relief. His dignified presence moved all beings; he was truly an outstanding figure of the Buddhist gate. On the sixth day of the fifth month of the ninth year of the Daye era, sitting cross-legged with palms joined, he passed away in the eastern chamber of Renxiao Monastery, at the age of seventy. Earlier, at the beginning of the fifth month, the pure-believing upāsaka Liu Zhengqin had requested a lecture on Maitreya; Lin admonished him regarding impermanence and at first did not grant the request. When this time came, he indeed passed away; truly he knew his destiny! When he was near the end, he admonished his disciples: 'The śītavana is what I have always wished for; after I leave this world, do not go against this wish.' Śramaṇa Zhikeng and others respectfully followed his dying words, moving him to Mount Yuwang on the eleventh day of that month. It was then the scorching season of flowing gold, and the forest had many predatory beasts; from midsummer to early autumn, his body remained intact without any damage or alteration. Monastics and laypeople sighed in admiration, marveling at what was unprecedented. Furthermore, on the eighth day of the intercalary ninth month of that year, a square tomb was constructed on the eastern mountain of Zhaoyin, following the divination for the burial site. His whole-body relics were then interred in the mountain grotto. People from all quarters arrived, and all his fellow disciples assembled; shedding tears and beating their breasts, their cries echoed through the mountain valleys. Thereupon a stele was erected to the right of the monastery gate, the text of which was composed by the scholar Cai Gui of Jiangyang.
10.26
Shi Jingyuan, whose secular surname is unknown, was a native of Daizhou. He renounced household life at the age of thirty. Possessing wide learning and a robust memory, he had long-established standards in scrutinising the scriptures and treatises, and was early on venerated by all scholars. When he first entered the full monastic precepts, he studied exclusively under the Vinaya branch. Having passed his thirties, his lofty undertakings flourished even more. From dawn to daybreak he toiled with rigorous vigour, consolidating his study. After observing and culling [the materials] five times, he proceeded to lecture on them. At first, because he had entered the Path in his prime, many looked down on him with contempt. Yet when they tried listening to his discourses and observed his literary reasoning, it was clear, penetrating, expansive, and utterly free of impediment. Each threw their hearts [at his feet] from their seats, none failing to pay homage. Yuan gave sequential lectures on the *Cāturvargīya-vinaya*, holding ten series in succession. He also listened to the *Daśabhūmika*, *Avataṃsaka*, and various minor treatises. Later, he took the *Mahāyānasaṃgraha* as his standard, mastering its essential framework, chapters, and sentences. Proficient in scholarly debates, he pushed himself rigorously. He dissected and annotated the sacred words, formulating divisions according to understanding, and broadly circulated treatises and subcommentaries. Later, he entered the capital region to gather what he had not yet heard. Though he held [many works] in his breast, there was not a single new doctrinal technique [to him]. At that time, people had not yet fathomed his thorough illumination. He resided in Baocha Monastery, concealing his demeanor and arts. Later, on the occasion of a Dharma assembly, Yuan wished to display his brilliance. It came to the turn of establishing an argument; with his mind set on the five aggregates, he ascended the seat and stood. Because they considered him out of their class, the assembly fell silent without a word. After a long hush, Yuan looked down at the assembly and said: 'I have set up the proposition for a long time. Why are there no questions?' The assembly said: 'What proposition have you established, that you invite questions?' Yuan said: 'The nominal characteristics have been set for a long time; you simply did not realise it yourselves. You bhadantas rely on oral transmission while seated; I, however, set forth both form and mind simultaneously.' Thereupon he settled calmly in his seat, his courageous spirit surging like clouds. He remarked of himself: 'Calculations have not yet worn me out; this is merely attending to human affairs for now.' At that time, people regarded this as affected eccentricity and ostentatious purism. Yet when the volleys of objections flew back and forth, his responses poured like clouds and rain. In each case he first fixed the number of exchanges, and subsequently exhausted his arguments according to that number. Opening or blocking was left to the occasion; unorthodox and orthodox depended on his clearing or impeding. Where there were profound doubts and accumulated difficulties that had historically gone unresolved, he was able to articulate and penetrate their principles, bringing refreshing clarity. Thereupon, many among the intelligent and bright turned their steps toward him. He then moved to Baochang Monastery. Across the four seasons he continued without cease; it was upon earthen platforms in grass huts that he thus propagated the teaching. During the formal hours he lectured on the *Mahāyānasaṃgraha*, and late at night on the *Saṃyuktābhidharmahṛdaya*. At times he comprehensively explained the *Nirvāṇa Sūtra*, and at times he analysed and elucidated the *Cāturvargīya-vinaya*. Without choosing any spare leisure, he served as a model for later worthies. Whatever words he opened were contrary to old interpretations. Once his commentaries were written, he never looked over them again; when it came time to lecture and call out points, everything conformed to rule and measure. His erudition and retentive memory were rarely matched in the world. As for the *Śāriputrābhidharma*, its literary principles are doubly obscure; readers still found it difficult, let alone comprehending its meaning. Yuan took up the scrolls and opened the text, clearly fathoming it completely. He then composed a commentary in ten fascicles, its prose exceedingly rich and abundant. It happened that Emperor Wen was erecting pagodas, and an imperial decree dispatched [monks] to convey relics to Lushan Monastery in Tanzhou. When he first arrived at the administrative seat of the prefecture and crossed to the west bank of the Xiang River, approaching the site of the mountain, suddenly there were strange birds, flocking in tens of thousands, their five colours fluttering. Flying and skimming the water, they moved in ranks toward the boat, as if welcoming and guiding it. When they reached the relics, they flew ahead again, darting back and forth with great speed; none in the crowd failed to marvel. When they climbed onto the shore, the birds gazed from their perches and then flew together through the air, accompanying them to the pagoda site. Those with discerning knowledge considered this to be a transformed manifestation of the mountain spirit's retinue. Yuan reported this auspicious omen to the court, and the Emperor praised it greatly. Yet Yuan took instruction as his duty; he did not slacken in the initial protocols of the six daily periods of worship and repentance. He reverently observed the Vinaya rules, putting them into practice just as he had heard them. Seeing for himself that Dharma masters mostly neglected the Vinaya tradition—owing to a deficiency in faith and an overemphasis on theoretical study—Yuan combined both virtues, uniquely enlightened in a decadent age. He may indeed be called an illuminated person who upheld the precepts. Initially, when his fame resounded in the capital, all admired him. But when they saw that his lectures and explanations on scriptures and methods revised the ancient models and altered previous literary debates, those who clung to words were numerous and could not bear his evaluations; they remained mired in their habitual routines, and his listeners numbered fewer than ten. Moreover, because his speech was so lofty that it was not what beginner minds could aspire to, it was inaccessible to later entrants. In the early years of Daye, Dharmabhāṇaka Bianxiang was summoned to enter Huiri Monastery. Seeing a hundred disciples who all recognised the path of knowledge, he entrusted them all to Yuan. From then on, Yuan enlightened them as was his habit; the crowd was double what had been heard before. They spurred and praised one another, spreading his renown even further. People from all four quarters converged on his lecture hall day by day; all heard what they had never heard before and rejoiced at reaching the difficult doctrines. When it came to his articulating profound truths, subverting [fallacies], and holding high the essential tenets, those seated unwittingly rose from their mats and moved forward on their knees, all praising the outstanding brilliance of his doctrinal exposition. After a continuous year of this, he suddenly met with impermanence at the age of sixty-odd, in the fifth month of the fifth year of Daye. Yuan had the merit of vast insight, yet was meager in meritorious fortune. This is attested by his following disciples: no sooner did they flourish in numbers than he passed away—how could it not be so? Furthermore, the *Śāriputrābhidharma* was ultimately never expounded in public lectures, and his commentary was subsequently lost, cutting off its transmission to later generations. This, too, is a source of profound sorrow.
10.27
Shi Zhingning, whose secular family and ancestry are unknown, was a native of Yuzhou. He renounced household life at a young age. Constantly transmitting what he learned from his teachers, once a scripture passed before his eyes, he never forgot it, keeping it fully held in his heart. The scriptures he recited amounted to hundreds of thousands of words; he could quote and recite them in an instant without ever having to review old texts. After he received the full precepts, his daily renown and expectations soared, yet various masters from afar pointed at him, fearing he would have no later achievements. Hearing this, Ning sighed: 'Even the worldly value hearing the Way in the morning without regretting death in the evening; how should the essential Path of world-transcendence be encumbered by enriching one's life?' He then went to Pengcheng to Lord Song, looking up to him to consult on the *Mahāyānasaṃgraha*. His subtle spirit was outwardly stirred, and correct principles presented themselves; in his mind it felt like old familiarity, never requiring a repeated inquiry. When the first lecture had just concluded, on the second chapter, 'Superior Marks', he looked back at the disciples and said: 'The overarching tenets of the *Mahāyānasaṃgraha* can now all be seen. I have no leisure to listen to the rest of the text.' He then wished to compose a commentary and went to take leave of Song. Song said: 'As a junior leader, can you run abreast [with us]? I regret that your skill has not yet reached full penetration; I fear you may fall into perversion.' Ning said: 'Thanks to the Dharmabhāṇaka's illuminating great brilliance, once the headings are laid out, the rest is known. Errors lie in branch-and-leaf contrivances, so there is nothing to fear.' He bowed his head and departed. At that time, people considered this boastful extravagance and did not admire it. But when his commentary was completed, he analysed and resolved the doctrinal tenets, lecturing according to it, and his reputation grew increasingly prominent. Later, he went to the capital and resided at Biancai Monastery, leading the assembly in regular lectures, frequently transmitting his glorious legacy. Under Emperor Wen of the Sui, the Dharma flourished, and palace assemblies were repeatedly held; famous and eminent monks mostly took part in these supreme gatherings, yet Ning alone led his disciples in propagating the Dharma, never casting a glance toward worldly gain. For this reason, the virtues attained by his fellow scholars were truly distinct from his peers. Later he resided at Chanding Monastery, still honouring his old practices. During the Daye era, he passed away in the monastery of his residence at the age of forty-eight. Originally, when Ning was transmitting the Dharma east of the passes, he had no interest in lecturing in the capital. There was Dharmabhāṇaka Mingji, whose glorious name and doctrinal achievements in the *Mahāyānasaṃgraha* made him a model. When Ning was continuing his lineage, Ji was declining in years and infirmity; he ordered scholars to invite Ning. When Ning arrived and they met, Ji said nothing else, but merely asked: 'Does the ālaya-vijñāna cease or not?' Ning said: 'It ceases.' Ji then sprang up boldly from his seat, clapped his hands in great jubilation, and died shortly thereafter. Because Ning inherited Ji's mantle, scholars did not waver from their tradition. Moreover, his conduct was pure and strict, unchanging through wind and frost. In the six periods of the day, he assigned himself tasks, ceaselessly cultivating both merit and wisdom. Thus, within the single monastery of Biancai, he personally engaged in maintenance and construction: drawing water, planting trees, and leveling the monastic grounds without ever leaving anything undone. As the long bell strikes were about to finish, he would proceed to his original seat; once his preaching of the Dharma was done, he returned to tasks of merit. In the business of commentaries and notes, his hands never held a written text; responding to the quiet of the hours, he timed himself against the bells and drums. Whether an overnight donation feast yielded hundreds of thousands, or a single meal away from the monastery brought offerings of both gold and silk, he never entertained any distracting thought, his mind solely fixed on conferring the Dharma. Hence, everywhere his transmission was carried on. His scholars Lingjue and Daozhuo were both famous monks of the Shu region; relying on his wise comprehension, they made a name for themselves in the capital. Later they returned to Yizhou to propagate and extol their school, and so the *Mahāyānasaṃgraha* tradition in Min and Luo flourished through them.
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- 續高僧傳 — 道宣, Classical Chinese