續高僧傳 13.28

13.28

Śramaṇa Sengfeng. His secular surname was Xiao, and Emperor Gao of Liang was his clan ancestor. His great-grandfather was Yi, Palace Attendant and Prince Xuanwu of the Liang. His grandfather was Gui, General of Clarified Prestige and Marquis of Panyu of the Liang. His illustrious father was Chang, General Who Beckons from Afar and Governor of Xinchang of the Chen. Due to his ancestral lineage and elite pedigree, Feng's reputation was elevated and far-reaching; his disposition was open and broad, his conduct lofty and upright. Formerly, when at the age of aspiring to learning, his intelligence was precociously formed; his writings shone brightly, and his resonant eloquence was outstanding. He composed more than a hundred miscellaneous literary pieces, surpassing the Confucian forest, which all knowledgeable people chanted. Thus he early attained an extended reputation, his fine fame soaring over the capital. At the beginning of the Kaihuang era, Dharmabhāṇaka Sengcan was renowned throughout the five capitals, his learning encompassing the eight piṭakas. Feng devoted his mind to entreating the Way, taking refuge in the master’s lineage. Sengcan recognized his sharpness, admired his capacity and strategy, and transmitted the True Vehicle to him, distinguishing the gradations of the ten levels, and guided him with profound eloquence, explaining the positions of the eight powers. Feng possessed an elegant and profound nature, comprehending everything without omission. His superior vigor surpassed his peers, and his endowment rivaled the masters of old. His contemporaries looked at one another and said: "'When the master is untroubled, the result is doubled'—this was heard of the ancients; 'Cold ice is pure and thick'—this is verified today." It happened that Emperor Yang of Sui received the imperial mandate and toured the realm. In the middle of the Daye era, he halted his entourage in the southern suburbs, a gathering of regalia and cultural splendor rarely seen in a thousand years. Desiring to stir the gods and spirits with military might and imperial majesty, he raised high yellow banners and displayed white plumes; frosty halberds shone in the sun, and martial pavilions covered the riverbanks. Monastics and laypeople stood in rows before the court. An imperial decree was issued: "The military and state have their decorum; Chinese and barbarians do not alter it. Venerating the lord and exalting the sovereign maintains names and forms for antiquity. Supporting life and moving fortune, principles and numbers have their rites. The three greats are suspended in the Laozi tradition; the two teachings are established in the Buddhist mansion. The regulations have long been promulgated; how can you resist bowing?" The men and women of Huang-Lao bowed upon hearing the voice, but those of the Buddhist school alone stood facing one another upright. Śramaṇa Mingshan took the lead in replying to the edict, as detailed in his separate biography. Yet imperial messengers repeatedly urged: "Why do you not bow?" As abbot of Chongjing Monastery, Feng was summoned according to custom. He pushed his way straight forward, citing sūtras and treatises to clarify the principle of not paying homage. Everyone who examined the demeanor of Shan and Feng in resisting the edict agreed it could be said: "The orchid and chrysanthemum each display their blossoms; the bamboo and cypress each manifest their constancy"—it could not be diminished. When Empress Xian passed away and Dachanding Monastery was established, an imperial decree summoned monks to assemble at the bodhimanda to expound the teachings alongside one another down to his advanced years. He was skilled in summarizing and presenting essential points; when difficult questions lost their thread, he brought them back to the definitive doctrine. In the middle of the Zhenguan era, the Buddhist order flourished anew; when weeds grew in the blue fields, the white-haired elder arose. Without someone to take charge, there would be no means to promote and protect [the Dharma]. Du Zhenglun, Secretariat drafter, was ordered by imperial decree to supervise, oversee, and report, summoning Feng to take up the post at Puji Monastery. Soon he was transferred to serve as prior of Dingshui Monastery. In soothing and maintaining the two monasteries, he did not stray from the six harmonies; profoundly understanding the minds of the multitude, they rejoiced in looking up to him. When his age reached seventy, his sincere resolve was renewed: breaking free from the dust of worldly ties, he wandered freely in the mountain forests; through spoken exchanges and mutual conversation, he brought his life's affairs to completion. Longgong Monastery in the Western Mountains of Qizhou sent a distant invitation requesting him to lecture, which deeply gratified his longstanding wish. Hearing that it was backed by towering cliffs to the north and faced the clear Wei River to the south, with stone mirrors gleaming in the sun and pines and vines cloaking the sky, delighting his secluded feelings, he immediately went to comply. He broadly opened the Dharma contemplation and guided with traces of wisdom, reviving monastics and laypeople to hear what they had never heard before. Later, sorrowfully moved in the deep night, he recalled his former words; lamenting the valley of life, his yearning for the beyond grew deeper. On the twenty-third day of the last month of that year, he died of illness at that monastery at the age of seventy-seven. When first bedridden by severe illness, he still thought of propagating the Dharma, his mental vigor undiminished. He rose with effort despite his illness and said: "The Sūtra of the Lotus of the Wonderful Dharma will be my final parting words; I must expound it once more to relieve my lingering thoughts." He then expounded it before the assembly. When he stepped down from his seat, he was serene; suddenly his spirit departed at Longgong Monastery in Chencang County, Qizhou. Scholars, laity, officials, and commoners felt deep grief, lamenting: "We have lost our heaven!" How sorrowful, for the traces of the past are clear, yet where can they be seen again? They moved his remains to the northern plain of the county wall, carved a cave to place him, and erected a white stupa. Standing tall as a visible landmark, those near and far who gazed upon it could not help but weep. He had a disciple named Fawei, whose scholarly reputation was established early, with pure and far-reaching discourse. Considering that this loss to heaven could hardly be remedied, and heroic fame easily turns to dust, without setting it forth, where would future generations take standard? Thus at Dingshui Monastery he erected a stele to show his model for ten thousand ages. Its text was composed by Duke Yan, the Right Supervisor of the Department of State Affairs. Feng's character was solemn and dignified, his spirit surpassing all leaders. His speech was clear and bright, and his comprehension swift. He took prajñā as his mind-field and nirvāṇa as his inner attainment. He lectured on the Lotus Sūtra more than a hundred times, and authored commentaries identifying the central tenets, forming an independent school. His lectures on other sūtras and treatises were held according to the occasion. When Feng initially departed for the Western Mountains, he left a farewell testament describing his distant intentions, entrusting his remaining affairs; upon arriving at that monastery, he did not return. What could surpass his rejoicing in Heaven and knowing his destiny? Therefore, the closing verse of his posthumous text reads: