Shi Zhishou was of the Huangfu clan. His origin was in the lineage of Master Xuan’an of Anding. His family had for generations dwelled among hills and gardens, habitually living beyond worldly affairs. Following an official's posting, they wandered and moved their residence to the banks of the Zhang River. Yet from childhood he harbored rectitude and clarity, and early on displayed heroic excellence. In his youth he abandoned the secular world, his renown racing through his native region. At first he turned to Zhimin of Yunmen Monastery in Xiangzhou and took pravrajyā under him. Min was also a soaring dragon in the treasury of meditation, a prominent figure in the study of the mind, and the spiritual descendant of Venerable Chou. Because Shou was young in his years of study, Min briefly set aside the prohibitive rules and expediently instructed him in the five approaches to protect his three modes of action. Yet what Shou's spiritual wisdom aimed for did not admire inferior paths. Reviewing the bequeathal teachings, he saw that the precepts are the root of a teacher, and that samādhi, wisdom, and the host of good deeds proliferate from this. Since their principles coincided, how could he dare disobey the former injunctions? Therefore, whenever he met Vinaya students, he would inquire in low whispers, and following what he heard of the great standards, he practiced according to the teachings. Because of this, the five assemblies parted their tracks [to visit him], none failing to approach and seek an audience with him. Soon afterwards, his mother passed away. Then [a woman] entered the gates of the Way, named Fashi, who resided in an official monastery. She deeply cultivated the eight deferential rules and reverently observed the five comportments. Her aspiration was to take part in all of them; regarding the disciplinary guidelines, she made a vow to uphold and receive them as standards. However, when the assembly of nuns pursued the Way, their attachments and emotional ties were deep; and when it came to the strict precepts, most of them treated them with disdain and negligence. Yet Fashi severed her attachments, pursued the Way, walked the path of rectitude, and settled her mind. With majestic deportment she subdued the community of nuns, and her reputation rose high throughout the Wei region. Since the dark transformation had been transmitted eastward, there had never been such a model. Because she had been closely attached to Shou since early days and he had long garnered high renown, Fashi wished to taste the flavor of the Way early on and moisten her lips in the Vinaya tradition. Thereupon she asked Min to confer upon him the full precepts, but he did not yet permit it. She then inwardly reflected on correct discipline and externally inquired into the chapters of her peers, reverently adhering to and practicing them, bringing harmony to her community. Min observed her deportment, silently acknowledged it, and knowing that her character was firm and profound, he at last permitted him to receive the precepts. Shou considered that because the conditioned Dharma depends upon the wise and worthy, if the doors of practice were lightly abandoned, the vessel of the Way would sink. He therefore sought extensively among the great virtues and superior men of Zheng and Wei, taking no regard of the passing of years, resolved to invite them for his ordination. After three years had passed, his long-cherished wish was finally fulfilled. At twenty-two he at last received the great precepts. Although he received them from a master, he still did not know whether he had truly attained them or not. Thereupon, before an ancient stupa of the Buddha, he prayed for a visible confirmation. Receiving the blessing of the Buddha descending to rub the crown of his head, his body and mind became peaceful and relaxed, and only then did he know that his resonance with the precepts was real. From then on, day and night he inquired and investigated, standing out far above ordinary standards. Even where the teachings were something he had not yet heard, his deportment and propriety were already complete. When he searched through the Vinaya literature, he largely harmonized with its texts; as clear as if known from a past life, it further tempered his spiritual treasury. Wherever circumstances and principles had been obstructed or conflicting, they were all clarified, blended together, and invisibly harmonized like fitting tallies. Later, he attended the Vinaya lectures of Daohong. His fellows numbered seven hundred, sharp and eminent like a forest. When it came to searching out texts and comparing principles, he considered himself towering and distinct. And when it came to profound contemplation inspiring courage, comprehensively excelling all schools, and being steadfast, upright, strict, and brilliant, with a style like the wind bequeathing heritage, none surpassed Shou. Thus, before reaching the age of thirty, he frequently opened Vinaya halls. His splendid virtue and keen conduct were recognized as of great capacity by all. Master Lingyu, whose Way shook the eminent masters and whose standards transcended his peers, personally oversaw the monastic assembly and took part in the lower seats of his lectures. The contemporaries praised this together, further increasing the glorious spectacle. It happened that Emperor Gaozu of the Sui founded a monastery and summoned the meditation masters from afar. Desiring to broadly elevate the Vinaya teachings and spread their splendor through the imperial land, [Shou thought that] unless he conjoined dhyāna with a comprehension of the precepts, practice and study would have nowhere to rest. He consequently followed his teacher into the pass and stayed at Chanding Monastery. As his understanding was secretly penetrating, his renown radiated through the Three Auxiliaries. When he first arrived in the celestial capital, having fully reviewed the treatises and chapters, he broadened his reading even further. His new comprehension enriched what he had previously heard, and those with discernment realized his profound method. He opened another lecture hall, which fulfilled his original wish, and he immediately consented. Every day he expounded widely before the assembly, and in his spare time he swept the courtyard and read the texts. Thus, for four years he investigated and settled the various scriptures of the Tripiṭaka. Wherever their expressions and purports were related to the Vinaya, he compared them against the commentaries and resolved their past deficiencies. Since the eastern propagation of the Vinaya texts over some six hundred years, the transmission of ordination and precepts had mostly been confused regarding their substantive characteristics. The five divisions were mixed without distinction, and the two views were chaotically intertwined. When receiving the precepts throughout the realm, all recited the text of Dharmagupta. As for upholding the practices, they mostly relied on appearances and inherited customs handed down between masters and disciples, arbitrarily taking or discarding rules according to circumstance, and deciding light and heavy offenses inconsistently. Shou harbored grief over this; he opened and analyzed them, often illuminating the benighted, evaluating the ancient and modern, and completely presenting them to the world. He composed the *Twenty-One Fascicles of Notes on the Distinctions of the Five Divisions*. This was what may be called a high wall towering in brilliance, the net of heaven widely unfurled; once more opening disparate texts, comprehensively sorting out divergent methods. The various Vinayas translated amounted to over four hundred fascicles; in their inherited expositions, they had hitherto been in confusion. Now he summarized their similarities and differences and settled what should be discarded or established. The original commentary had been composed by Master Yun; his present compilation exceeded it by twice as much. Thus, that the various divisions could run side by side along the highway of the Tang, and the seven assemblies could gaze widely upon them during the Zhenguan era, was due to Shou's effort. However, within the pass they solely esteemed and customarily upheld the *Mahāsāṃghika Vinaya*. Vinayadhara Hongzun first opened the *Dharmaguptaka Vinaya*, yet he also taught the sūtras generally, so monks and laypeople rushed to follow him; but as for transmitting the text of the Vinaya deportments, it was virtually non-existent. Shou then disseminated this profound inquiry, and immediately opened both paths in parallel. Obscure texts and hidden meanings that had penetrated antiquity without being propagated, as well as great difficulties and massive doubts that had perplexed the host of masters, he highlighted in their core tenets and brought to unity, making for a clear and magnificent panorama. This was because his theoretical thought was deeply refined and harmonized, which enabled him to comprehensively elucidate and decide them. He caused students upholding the Vinaya to fill the halls day after day. Zun also personally attended the Dharma seat, commanding the assembly to take him as a teacher. The way of mutual fulfillment was not forgotten, and the meritorious deed of wide propagation was never neglected. Thus, when finding refuge in the land of Qin, all took him as the model guideline and Dharma mirror. Beginning in the late years of the Sui and ending before his final illness, for over thirty years he strode alone across the capital, with none daring to rival him. Those whom his expositions transformed into accomplished masters were more than one. Therefore, those of the practicing community whose traces were recognized and who gained renown in the Tang era were all guided and elevated by Shou, truly owing to his merit of rectification and assistance. Moreover, every time he ascended the Dharma hall, he laid down admonitions for the disciples: if anyone was slightly involved in irregularities, he would suspend the lecture seat for them; or if any slackened in their studies, he would summon and instruct them. Those who heard this wept, and none failed to discipline and reform themselves. At the beginning of Daye, he was summoned to reside in the Da Chanding Monastery (now known as Da Zongchi Monastery). As the offerings became increasingly generous, he abandoned and diminished them all the more. Reflecting that while the Way was revered in the imperial capital and the transformation had shifted within the pass, his old homeland had fallen into decline and the migrating spirits had nothing to rely upon, he withdrew more than a hundred items of goods. At the old ruins of Yunmen in Xiangzhou (now called Guangyanshan Monastery), he built twin stupas at the two places where he had taken pravrajyā and received the full ordination. Adorning them with jewels and decorating them with vermilion and azure, he made them a standard for generations and a resource for practice and study. Inscribing their illustrious deeds on each, he erected them to the right of the stupas. In the first year of Zhenguan, an Indian Tripiṭaka master brought a large collection of Indic manuscripts intending to translate them into the language of the Tang. An imperial edict was issued to the relevant authorities to search out and promote the eminent and proficient; by unanimous recommendation, he was assigned to the translation bureau. Wherever the meaning touched upon the Vinaya school, all consulted him to obtain the correct interpretation. In the eighth year, the Emperor, mourning the early passing of his sagacious mother, felt a distant grief difficult to express; although his transformation filled the realm, his boundless filial longing remained unfulfilled. For the sake of Empress Taimu, he built Hongfu Monastery to the west of the palace city, extensively inviting those of virtue and prestige to gather there. Fearing that some seeking opportunistic renown might improperly occupy positions, and because Shou's personal cultivation of the Way was austere and upright without unwarranted invitations, the ministers submitted his name to the throne. He was summoned to be the superior (sthavira) of Hongfu, thereby taking on the role of chief coordinator to select and promote monks. Those who were included in the imperial summons were all decided according to his advice on whether to accept or dismiss. He caused the gathered multitude to assemble like clouds, their uniform fragrance like orchids; without enforcing strict rules, their fragrance flowed without end. From when he first opened his lectures, he made a vow to complete a hundred cycles; if only he could fulfill this wish of his heart, he would be content to die in the evening. Beginning on the banks of the Zhang and ending by the Wei, instructing and guiding in accordance with each place, he precisely completed his original vow. Rejoicing in what he had originally aspired to, shortly afterwards he passed away. Inquiring into the consensus of all, he may indeed be called one who knew his destiny. On the twenty-second day of the fourth month in the ninth year of Zhenguan, his chronic illness returned. He passed away at his dwelling at the age of sixty-nine. The Emperor mourned and grieved, issuing an edict commanding the various bureaus to supply the necessities, ensuring that everything required for the funeral affairs was fully provided. From the Sui to the Tang, there had been no state funerals for monks; this set the precedent, and his contemporaries revered it together. Vice Director of the Department of State Affairs Fang Xuanling, Supervisor of the Household Du Zhenglun, and various ministers personally exhausted their grief and laments, honoring the standard of his precepts. On the twenty-ninth day, the preparations were just completed. At that time, in the midst of summer heat, the corpse did not decompose or smell; the crowd marveled together, attributing this to the power of his upholding of the precepts. Disciples from various monasteries vied to lead white banners, filling the streets and lanes. The government provided ten mu of land on Longshou Plateau on the western outskirts of the capital. Three hundred county corvée laborers piled up the earth to form the mound, and planted a thousand cypresses, which remain luxuriant to this day. Admirers of his righteousness and disciples of his school jointly erected a tall stele, inscribed at the gate of Hongfu Monastery, with the text written by Xu Jingzong. At first, the Vinayadhara's propagation of the teachings was renowned from beginning to end; such extensive erudition was rarely seen throughout antiquity. Ever since lecturing scholars competed with one another, holding on to past transmissions, their collations of the various traditions mostly contradicted name and reality. Had he not accumulated causes in past lives, how could his mind have been opened to the celestial vehicle? For several hundred years, it was only now that the settling of the traditions was finally established. In addition, he was diligent in listening and preaching, and placed heavy emphasis on practical affairs. Formulating deportments according to circumstances, he applied medicinal acupuncture to all. On the new and full moons of each month, before reciting the precepts, he first prepared the ritual requisites; flowers and incense were interwoven in decoration, illuminating the hall. The disciples present joined their palms and knelt in reverent fear. Ending the prior matters, explaining desires and declaring purity were especially his admonished moments. Every time he lectured on expiating offenses, he washed away all lingering burdens; thus, gentlemen who upheld the Vinaya mostly went to consult him. Since his demise, this practice has ceased. I once sat in the lowermost seat and observed his flourishing transformation for nearly ten years. Unawares, I took it for granted, not realizing at first what an extraordinary encounter it was. I then exerted myself beyond the pass and observed various other groups; few met my expectations, and when I was about to return to the capital, I suddenly heard that he had passed away and the marks of his practice had crumbled. Looking back at that time, it was higher than the shores of heaven. Alas, how profound is my sorrow!

22.13

Śramaṇa Huijin's secular surname was Wu, and he was a native of Jiangdu in Yangzhou. When his mother was pregnant with him, she at once shed all sensual desires; pungent and foul mundane tastes she looked upon with total indifference. Those who understood thought this was brought about by the child, just as with Śāriputra. When he reached seven years of age, his heart yearned for the monastic order; seeing a śramaṇa on the road, he followed after him and forgot to return home. His parents rejoiced in his faith, and thus permitted him to rely on Dharmabhāṇaka Rong to enter the monastic life. His filial respect and carefulness were natural, not needing his master's admonitions; following him in attendance and veneration, he never once transgressed. Whenever he traveled with Rong to various monasteries, he never dared wander off; he would spread a mat on the ground beneath Rong's bed and lie prostrate there. Instances like this were more than one. Listening to Rong expound the Mahāyānasaṃgraha, his great awakening surpassed his peers of that time. When he took his turn to lecture on it, those who sighed in admiration were numerous; his conversation was refined and elegant, wonderfully attuned to the dispositions of others. During the Renshou reign period, he was summoned alongside Rong to enter the Chanding Monastery. After receiving the full precepts, he devoted himself solely to the Vinaya rituals. He listened to Vinayadhara Zun lecture on it a total of twenty times; he also listened to Vinayadhara Shou a comparable number of times. Humble and yielding by nature, when he established a thesis he would not dispute; he only set forth the Vinaya aspects when expounding the Mahāyānasaṃgraha. At the time, he was regarded as someone who relied on the Mahāyāna to propagate behavioral standards. Toward the end of the Daye reign era, there were many alarms along the suburban fortifications. The community of Chanding unanimously deferred to Jin as someone capable of resisting enemies. Thereupon, people and livestock from various quarters were assembled together at the single estate of Kunzhi, and many watchtowers were erected for defense. Jin issued the orders alone, and no one dared face his vanguard. At that time, the bandit hordes of Sizhu marched boldly through the countryside with drums beating; wherever they went they destroyed and extinguished everything, with none able to resist them. When their troops approached the estate, their intention was to slaughter and plunder. Jin mounted a tower to look out, and saw only banners unfurled for ten li. He then gathered up the bows and swords, bound his own servants' hands behind their backs, laid out a great feast, and opened the granaries wide. He personally went forward into their battle lines to greet and question the army commanders, led them into the estate, and ordered them to take their seats. Seeing the grand display, their faces broke into smiles, and they grasped Jin's hand, saying: "A stouthearted man of the Way!" After eating their fill, they prepared to return, taking only ten oxen intended to reward the soldiers. When they had been led halfway down the road, Jin asked for them back again; mindful of their earlier hospitality, they returned all of them. For this reason, at the beginning of the Yining era, though all other estates were overrun, Chanding alone remained intact as before. He was thus someone who deeply understood critical exigencies and thoroughly mastered allowable and forbidden [actions]—the only one of his kind. In addition, he was exceptionally skilled in craft; there was nothing he applied himself to that was not acceptable. Whether in ornament and color decoration, or painting and building splendors, or tailoring clothes and making implements, or directing people and goods—the community numbered four hundred, yet they all entrusted matters to his talent. As for his chanting and reciting of the Prātimokṣa Sūtra, his clear voice was fluid and moving; even those who were habitually indolent came to sit and listen when they heard Jin recite the precepts, pricking up their ears and sitting erect, fearful only that his voice would cease. At the beginning of the Zhenguan era, he served as the elder (sthavira) of Yunhua Monastery, constantly propagating the Mahāyānasaṃgraha and opening up the Vinaya section. Later, an imperial decree summoned him into Puguang Monastery; he regulated the monastic ranks so that both seniors and juniors were pure and harmonious. In the winter of the eighth year, he passed away at this monastery, at the age of fifty-odd years. At that time, there were also the śramaṇas Mande, Shanzhi, Zhenyi, and Jingdao, who studied the same subjects as Jin and followed him in seeking the doctrine. De's wisdom and awakening were endowed by Heaven, and his speech and discourse were expansive and unimpeded; Zhi had broad understanding of profound subtleties, and his heart delighted in defending the Dharma; Yi was meritorious in guiding and preaching, though his propagation met many obstacles; Dao embraced plain simplicity to nurture himself, and his nature was preserved in the scriptures and histories. Most of them passed away; Yi alone survived, propagating and expounding [the teachings] in the imperial capital.

22.14

Śramaṇa Fali's secular surname was Li, and he was a native of Zhao. Because of an official post, his family settled in Xiang. When he was born, his teeth were fully formed; right up until the end of his old age, he never lost or damaged a tooth, their hardness and whiteness being beyond the ordinary. When he reached the age of formal studies, he already delighted in the Great Dharma. At first he took refuge under Dharmabhāṇaka Lingyu, who ordained him as a disciple. His demeanor was graceful and luxuriant, and his dignified deportment was suave and elegant; his conversation was broad and penetrating, and he favored the profound and subtle. After receiving the full precepts, he was sincere and cautious regarding the disciplinary rules. Following Vinayadhara Jinghong, he inquired and studied the Dharmaguptaka Vinaya; pointing out its network of disciplinary models, years passed in this endeavor. His achievements and fine models flourished, and his reputation soared above his contemporaries. His achievements being already notable, he further took different exemplars as his teachers. He then studied under Master Yuan of Hengzhou, listening and compiling the great essentials for two full years; synthesizing the branches and foliage, he exhaustively investigated the roots and sources. At once he broadly cited what he had heard to open lectures on the essentials of the Vinaya; his speech was concise and to the point, and his engagement with difficult points grew ever more solid. Thus, his closeness to the subtle workings was uniquely supreme, and he was exceptionally praised in both present and past. Later, he went south of the Yangtze to examine the Sarvāstivāda Vinaya; however, relying heavily on personal instruction from teachers, his critical investigations lacked sufficient materials. When he returned to Ye, he met with opportunities to guide and open [minds]. But as the Sui under Emperor Yang lost the Way and the mountains and rivers were agitated by mundane dust, listeners were obstructed, and there was no way to consult or reach him. When the fortunes of the Tang laid their foundation, the Dharma gate was opened anew. It happened that Pei Shiyuan, magistrate of Linzhang, having long received pure instruction, proactively opened a Dharma seat and invited Li to expound continuously in the county. Through the accumulation of successive years, those who gained awakening were extremely numerous. From the four quarters, those cherishing the Way set out at nightfall and ordered their carriages; those whose understanding tallied mounted the hall, and those of earnest practice entered the inner chamber. Li believed that for beginners clinging to old habits, if their thorough inquiries were left unresolved, and if this was not put into written records, there would be no way to penetrate their minds. Thereupon, he broadened his original undertaking, further gathered unfamiliar traditions, and consulted sūtras and treatises on all sides to compose his primary commentary. At that time, Dharmabhāṇaka Huixiu's reputation in the Way spread far, and he was deeply respected as a model for the world; in praising and investigating the spiritual principles, his texts and meanings dovetailed with [Li's]. Thus their brilliance illuminated one another, and their Vinaya contemplation was lofty and distant; Xiu had merit in this. In the tenth month of the ninth year of Zhenguan, he passed away at his dwelling in Riguang Monastery in the old city of Ye, at the age of sixty-seven. First and last, he lectured on the Vinaya more than forty times. He composed the Commentary on the Dharmaguptaka Vinaya in ten fascicles, the Commentary on the Karmavācanā in three fascicles, and the Ritual for Relinquishment and Repentance with an Account of Minor and Major [Offenses], etc., each distributed in fascicles and volumes, and deeply respected by his contemporaries. At that time, Daoshuo of Weizhou was revered in Vinaya studies; his achievements rivaled Li's, and he was also esteemed by the times.

22.15

Śramaṇa Xuanwan was surnamed Yang and was a native of Huazhou in Hongnong. His distant ancestors moved, and his family now resided in Xinfeng of Yongzhou. From his youth he awakened to the Way, his conduct pure and bright. Having resolved upon study, he began to travel through the gardens of the Dharma. He served the śramaṇa Dharma Master Tanyan. Yan was a magnificent standard of the Zhenling region and the master of the Dharma teachings left behind [by the Buddha], whom Emperor Wen of the Sui deeply esteemed and for whom he founded a monastery to reside in, as detailed in his separate biography. Wan was admitted as his inner disciple, holding reverence in his heart. After receiving full ordination, he followed Vinaya Master Hongzun, wholeheartedly studying the Fourfold Vinaya. He mastered the prohibitions of nature and precept, refining his knowledge of upholdings and infractions. After studying the Vinaya for three years, he began to lecture on and propagate it, leading later scholars gladly to promote him and predecessors to praise his excellence. He then returned to his original master to study the true body in the Nirvāṇa [Sūtra], gleaning what was novel and extraordinary, and subtly expressing its obscure subtleties. Wishing also to venerate the Consciousness-Only doctrine and encompass the nature of reality, he received instruction in the Mahāyānasaṃgraha under Dhyāna Master Tancian, while also consulting various scholars to plumb their deepest thoughts. Regarding the Saddharmapuṇḍarīka, Mahāsaṃnipāta, Laṅkāvatāra, Śrīmālādevī, Daśabhūmika-śāstra, Madhyamaka-śāstra, Śata-śāstra, and others, he drew upon their rich essence, investigated novel explanations, revolved through repeated inquiries, and grasped their profundities, bringing forth their profound principles. However, considering that merit and wisdom guide each other like the rolling of two wheels, the work of wisdom was only brought to light in the end, while the standard of merit had been established at the very beginning. Forever mindful that during Master Yan's lifetime there had been a vow to cast a sixteen-foot image of Śākyamuni, which was left unfinished when Yan suddenly passed away, Wan vowed to resume the task and fulfill the prior design. In the second year of Renshou, he gathered those with karmic affinity and began the casting. The monastery occupied a critical hub in the capital region, where people looked up to it and turned their hearts to it. Thus, the supreme resonance mysteriously communicated, and the summons was entirely fulfilled. At that time, the sky was clear and bright, and the radiant sun shone. Flowers fell from the heavens like mica, fluttering through the air and landing before the statue. Officials and commoners marveled at such a rare occurrence; the Dharma assembly rejoiced at this glorious auspicious sign. When the mold was opened, the elegant marks were exceedingly perfect; it became a pillar of the capital region, and for the size of golden statues, none had ever surpassed it. It now stands in the original monastery; on quiet nights and clear mornings, the sounds of the eight tones of preaching resound from it, without anyone knowing whence they come. Furthermore, he produced four sets of the canon of scriptures, completely adorned, with every copied text relying on standard authoritative exemplars. Moreover, on the eighth day of the second month, the morning of the Great Sage's nativity bath, he recalled old traditions and reverently prepared the bathing utensils; every year on this morning, he held lectures and provided vegetarian feasts, summoning all four assemblies with offerings imbued with compassion and reverence, preparing the seven requisites and distributing them generally to the monastic assembly. He also often lamented that in the end-period of the semblance teaching there were lapses in monastic discipline; as for transmissions and acceptances, hindrances and disqualifications had multiplied. Thereupon he adorned the bodhimaṇḍa and investigated various repentance rites. Every spring at the beginning of the precept transmissions, relying on the Twenty-Five Buddhas and the Thousand-Turn Dhāraṇī, he purified himself with fasting and circumambulation, causing those who had violated the precepts to cleanse their origins and return to purity, so that when ascending the platform to receive the Dharma, they were clear and free of doubt. These practices have been transmitted down to the present, maintained without interruption. Judging from this, he may truly be called a Bodhisattva Protector of the Dharma. Furthermore, he revered the Dharma and honored practice, day and night without cessation. Whenever he met men of superior virtue or extraordinary persons, he would certainly bow and converse with joy and enthusiasm, seeking to receive their further instructions. Even if he heard what he had previously studied, he looked up to it with longing as though it were new. In such humble radiance, few after him have left any trace. By the early years of the Zhenguan era, because Wan's observance of the precepts had attained perfection, the court and the populace alike looked up to him. An imperial decree summoned him to confer the Bodhisattva Precepts upon the Crown Prince and the various princes; hence, from the heir apparent on down, they honored him with the etiquette due to a master. An edict ordered the construction of the Puguang Monastery, summoning him to reside there; the offerings were abundant and splendid, widely extending to the assembly. A separate decree also summoned him into the palace to confer precepts on the Empress, the imperial concubines, and the princesses, receiving their inquiries on virtue within the forbidden apartments; the Dharma wealth offered to him accumulated daily in greater piles. Yet he observed discipline and kept to himself, paying no heed to surpluses; all the resources from offerings were used to perform meritorious deeds. Soon after, another imperial decree ordered that a canon of the currently available scriptures be copied for the Empress at Deye Monastery in the imperial park; immediately an edict was issued to create another canon of scriptures at Yanxing Monastery, and he was entrusted with supervising both projects. Wan considered that, with the trust placed in him by the two palaces, he could only offer his utmost sincerity; respectful compliance was not difficult, but it required extensive selection. Since the destruction of the Dharma in the late Zhou and its revival in the Sui dynasty, the transmitted copies of the Dharma texts had only preserved their fascicles and scrolls; when examining their phrasing and meaning, their reconciliations were largely divergent. Thereupon he gathered śramaṇas versed in doctrinal studies to collate and establish correct standards; wherever the phrasing or meaning was not fluent, they consulted him for a decision. Thus the Dharma jewel had no adulteration of doubts or forgeries, and delusion and awakening were clearly distinguished into trunk and branch. The clarification of the essential guidelines truly began with Wan. Formerly King Aśoka held a council during the Zhou era; now Wan established the tenets in the Tang era. Though those times were indeed different, their achievements were equal. Nevertheless, his instruction to the world encompassed the three Piṭakas. He cultivated virtue especially through austere restraint, and his renown spread through his Vinaya deportment. His words served as a model for the world, to which both monastics and laity returned. The monks and nuns from Chinese and foreign lands who received the full precepts from him numbered more than three thousand. From princes, dukes, and officials down to commoners and servants, those who received the refuges and precepts from him numbered more than two hundred thousand. The Vice Director of the Left, Xiao Yu, and his brothers, mirrors of human conduct who had long grown weary of worldly bustle, repeatedly inquired into the Saddharmapuṇḍarīka's doctrine of unifying the three vehicles and Nāgārjuna's teaching on the Middle Way; after meditating on them for a long time, they received and upheld them before departing. The Vice Director of the Right, Du Ruhui, on his deathbed entrusted his final wishes to him, summoning him to be his master through successive kalpas. General Xue Wanche, his brothers, and his mother all venerated the precept regulations and maintained a vegetarian diet until the end of their days. Dharma Master Daoyue of Puguang Monastery, whose understanding penetrated the profound secrets and whose eloquence unlocked the treasury of wisdom, reverently upheld the fragrance of precepts and practiced the Bodhisattva path. Without tiring of guiding others, he devoted himself to propagation all day long. Those who were transformed, exhorted, and cultivated by this were beyond ordinary measure. Therefore, the gentry and commoners of the capital followed in endless succession like smoke; ritual offerings arrived continuously, daily filling the storehouses. At that time a spirit medium said that whenever precepts were conferred or the Dharma was preached, spirits and deities of various kinds gathered from all directions as if receiving their marks of approval; without supreme merit secretly providing protection, who could have accomplished this? Because Wan's exhortations regarding the precepts were so thorough, both self and other held equal reverence, its efficacy like the blowing of the wind, conforming to the bending of the grass. Thereupon he sent a letter to the Crown Prince, stating: 'The first day of the year marks the beginning, and great blessings are renewed. I respectfully observe that Your Highness has met the time and received blessings, with everything fitting. However, I have long been entangled with a chronic illness and could not offer congratulations in person. Receiving your kind inquiry, I am overwhelmed with gratitude, and feeling your immense kindness, I do not know where to place myself. Now I briefly present four essential matters from the sūtras that should be carried out in detail, hoping you will pay attention to examining them to perpetually safeguard the precious throne. First is the exhortation to practice compassion: citing the passages on brahma-conduct from the Nirvāṇa [Sūtra], it urges the mind to cherish and nurture living beings, preserving the intention to universally rescue all. Second is reducing killing: citing the Confucian Rites, where oxen and sheep are not killed without reason, both revere life and eliminate unchecked excess. Furthermore, it says: "A king cultivates his teachings without altering their customs, and aligns his governance without altering what is appropriate." "Seeing them alive, he cannot bear their death; hearing their cries, he cannot eat their flesh." This shows that the Sovereign on High grieves over the harm done and establishes the beginning of stopping slaughter. Thus the Buddhist sūtras have the analogy of likening others to oneself, admonishing against killing, beating, and various harms. I have heard that in the regular meals of the Eastern Palace, there is much daily butchering. If what I have heard is accurate, it truly causes great harm. Your Highness prepares food from a single person's allotment to share widely with your subordinates, but when it comes to the origin of ending their lives, it is entirely attributed to Your Highness. For this reason, I constantly maintain vigilance day and night, hoping you will exalt compassion and forbearance. From now on, I request that you reduce killing; may the meat rations inside and outside the Eastern Palace all be reduced. Then your years will be long, your life will endure, and your benevolent nurturing will flourish. Third is conforming to the seasonal qi: as the scriptures say, non-killing is called benevolence (ren). Benevolence governs the liver, and the liver corresponds to wood. In the season of spring yang, all things come to life; one should nurture all kinds of beings to respond to the unseen creations of heaven. If one kills, this does not conform to the qi. Your Highness occupies the position of Shaoyang and your fortune dwells in the spring months. Practice compassion to harmonize the upright qi, and bestow beneficence to preserve your heaven-allotted age. I request that every year in spring you cease eating meat and stop killing, taking pity on sentient life and conforming to this warm spring qi. Fourth is upholding the fast: as the scriptures state, if one can purify the six sense faculties during the three months and six fast days of the year, it will foster the five blessings. I humbly wish that you comply with and uphold the fasting precepts. Why is this so? Enjoying this high position today is entirely supported by past causes; if you can further advance your virtue and exalt goodness to bring about its completion, then a good spiritual friend is indeed a great cause and condition. My moral virtue is meager and slight, yet I have received your kind favor. Respectfully gathering what I have heard and seen, I venture to trouble your hearing.' The Crown Prince immediately replied: 'I have humbly received the four items of the wondrous Dharma shown by the Master. Reading through them repeatedly, I am deeply impressed and grateful. The Dharma Master early on shed worldly defilements to let his spirit roam beyond things, expounding the subtle words of Vulture Peak and exploring the secret treasuries of the Dragon Palace, profoundly unlocking the spiritual storehouse and calmly illuminating the mysterious gate. Indeed, striding high like Mitan, you border on the first bhūmi; thus you can generously bestow your feelings to guide unenlightened minds. Your principles are solid, your meanings complete, your phrasing elegant, and your reach far-reaching, encompassing past and present and gathering together the inner and outer teachings. In the utmost of instruction and the method of careful admonition, even if the sagacious and wise established teachings and imperial tutors propagated the Way, they could not begin to compare to this essential ford or measure up to this lofty discourse. Practicing compassion, reducing killing, conforming to the seasonal qi, and upholding the fast—these indeed express the heart of a benevolent person to complete the practice of great compassion. I shall reverently lock them within my heart and observe them diligently, perpetually relying on superior causes to anticipate unseen aid.' The rest of the text is not recorded. The efficacy of his verbal instructions was of this sort. In the ninth year, an edict was issued to prohibit killing, beginning in the third month and ending in the fifth month. Wan, considering benevolent nurturing and universal salvation, submitted a memorial requesting a further extension; the Emperor specially granted that it last until the end of the year. In the late winter of the tenth year of Zhenguan, he fell ill and knew he was departing for the next life. He again sent a memorial to the Eastern Palace, entrusting the great Dharma to them. He also submitted a posthumous sealed memorial to the Emperor, stating: 'Xuanwan has heard that when the True Countenance conceals its traces, the semblance teaching declines; it always relies on monastics and laity for maintenance, establishing internal and external support for protection, thereby allowing the Dharma cloud to moisten anew and the sun of wisdom to shine again, gloriously harmonizing with the ruler of ten thousand chariots and carrying on prosperity for a thousand years. Examining the principles of maintenance, there are many approaches; the methods of broad protection and teaching are not singular. If one does not rely on the Buddha in adopting and rejecting, I fear rewards and punishments will stray from the cardinal tenets; if one relies on the teaching to examine the times, then selecting and revering will accord with reason. I humbly submit that when monks and nuns do not rely on the Vinaya precepts, resulting in violations of criminal statutes, reports reach the palace and trouble your hearing. Wan and the monastic assembly are filled with shame and fear. But I fear that in my remaining senile years, with illnesses coming one after another, my frail life will not last and the vast imperial grace will remain unrepaid. Thereupon, drawn from the scriptures, I have compiled one fascicle each of The Buddha's Law for Rewarding and Punishing the Three Jewels by Kings of Future Generations, A Treatise on Pacifying and Nurturing the Multitudes, and A Treatise on the Three Virtues. I humbly wish that Your Sacred Majesty will personally open and examine them. Your Majesty has broadly opened the way for submitting memorials, hoping to accept humble words; I respectfully offer the secret and essential scriptures, requesting that you examine the teachings from the Golden Mouth. Since Wan has unworthily undertaken the transmission of the Dharma, I hope not to commit the fault of concealing the teachings. Supporting my frail body to seal this memorial in order to fulfill my final duties, I am overwhelmed with longing and reverence. Respectfully I present the scriptures for your hearing.' He also left behind testamentary admonitions to his disciples regarding disciplinary conduct; his words were extremely detailed and earnest, causing readers to shed tears. He also said: 'My remaining clothes are to be given to all sentient beings; my remaining bones should be cremated and discarded according to ancient custom. As for mourning dress and weeping over the deceased, none of it should enter your thoughts.' Thereupon, on the seventh day of the twelfth month, he passed away in his room at Yanxing Monastery, at the age of seventy-five. The monastics and laity lost their reliance, and the Crown Prince wept in deep sorrow. The Son of Heaven issued an edict stating: 'Vinaya Master Xuanwan's precept conduct was steadfast, and his learning was pure and thorough. We had just relied on him to broadly propagate the correct Dharma and benefit all beings; unfortunately, he has passed away, for which Our feelings are filled with deep grief and lamentation. Let items be bestowed as detailed separately, and let the necessities for the fasting and funeral rites be provided by the imperial treasury.' The close relatives of the Eastern Palace, ministers, and high officials all donated gold and cowries, adding splendid funerary gifts to assist in cultivating posthumous merit. Reaching the hundredth day, Specially Advanced Xiao Yu, Chamberlain for the Palace Buildings Xiao Jing, Director of the Imperial Clan Court Li Baiyao, Supervisor of the Household Du Zhenglun, and others personally observed the precept rules and exhaustively performed the mourning rituals. Later, when moving the body to the mountain monastery, banners and canopies reflected each other, and fragrant flowers fluttered through the air. The followers were like clouds, the crowd exceeding several tens of thousands; the vanguard reached the Zhongnan Mountains while the rear dust still trailed from the palace gates. Along the forty-li stretch, monks and laity filled the roads, all saying: 'Now that our master is dead, who will safeguard the practice of the precepts?' Such was his esteem by his contemporaries. More than five hundred disciples followed his testamentary instructions. At that time, the clouds were high, the wind was still, the water was pure, and the oil fragrant. The seven assemblies covered the mountain, their minds united in knotting sorrow. They ordered the fire to be set and performed the cremation according to the Dharma. The firewood was consumed and the ashes flew away, openly returning to the origin. At the cremation site, they built a Buddhist pagoda to ferry his spiritual consciousness, where his portrait was preserved. Xiao Jun, Palace Writer of the Eastern Palace and native of Lanling, composed the inscription; Li Baiyao, Director of the Imperial Clan Court, composed the stele erected at the pagoda site, which was considered matchless at the time. From beginning to end, Wan's intention was to broadly save beings; generating goodness, merit, and wisdom constantly occupied his mind. In the early years of Wude, following times of destruction, grain was expensive and visiting monks had nowhere to turn; Wan exerted his remaining strength to convert the prominent and wealthy, and whatever goods he received were all used for provisions. Daily he visited the monastery kitchen to personally inquire about its abundance or scarcity; hence host and guest rejoiced together. Moreover, in the degenerate age of the semblance teaching, many belittled the Vinaya precepts; he therefore made himself an example to all beings, leading his Dharma followers to personally hold the scriptures and listen to them according to the season. This continued for ten cycles, carrying on from afar the dust of the predecessors. That Vinaya Master Zhishou's virtuous light and glorious fame spread throughout the imperial capital was truly due to Wan's assistance and praise, fanning the fragrant breeze. Few men who attained prominence themselves were able to yield to others as he did. Thus, when the Tang dynasty searched for and promoted worthy scholars every year, most were of the Vinaya school, which was truly due to Wan's diligent training. His appearance and bearing were dignified and solemn, his voice clear and resonant; those who looked upon him with reverence were all filled with awe. Thus, even looking at his portrait still fills one with respect. His disciple Sengjia, whose secular surname was Yuan, was purely awakened and had few desires. He often accompanied Wan in guiding beings, yet his resolve was upright and correct; his timely admonitions were adaptable without offending others' countenances. Taking quietude as his principle, he did not seek worldly fame, but relied on secluded practice of the Way, which was his aim. On his deathbed, he rinsed his mouth, composed his appearance, gave clear instructions, and passed away. Was this not a disciple's humble virtue inheriting his master's dust? Yet it is regrettable that he passed away early, and his pure rules were not spread far.

22.16

Śramaṇa Huixiao had the secular surname Liu. Originally from Pengcheng, his family had moved over the generations to Changge in Xu prefecture, hence he was considered a man of that county. For successive generations they were considered gentry wearing cap and tassels. At eighteen he was an academy student, intelligent and perceptive, skilled in expounding the Book of Odes and Book of Rites. The commandery and prefecture recommended him on the basis of [his mastery of] the Classics, but this was not his wish. He thereupon entered Mount Songgao, seeking a master under whom to leave household life (pravrajyā). He had a strong memory for what he had formerly heard, and gained distinction for his observance of the precepts. Elders and the discerning said to one another, 'If this man is thus, he is surely the Upāli of the present age!' At the beginning of the Kaihuang reign, he traveled to study in the city of Ye, comprehensively integrating the sūtras and the Vinaya; traversing and mastering the various traditions, he took the Dharmaguptaka Vinaya (Sifen lü) as his particular focus. Hearing that Lingyan Temple on Mount Tai was a dwelling for secluded residence and immaculate practice, he went there to join it. Later, as his upādhyāya was advanced in years, he returned again to the Central Peak. At that time, the founder of the Sui dynasty established the dynasty, taking all within the four seas as his household; thus [Huixiao] was able to travel back and forth unrestrained without impediment. At that time, Śramaṇa Minglang of Longmen, the foremost observer of the Vinaya in Hedong, heard of Huixiao's renowned religious reputation and traveled from afar to join him. Although Lang was far senior in years to Xiao, he humbled himself to serve him with ritual respect; both were deeply pleased and submissive to each other, united in the Way with delight. Delaying as the years turned, [Minglang] invited [Huixiao] to return to Heku. Xiao was not bound by notions of self and other; together they traveled and dwelt at Dinglin Temple in Longmen. Passing through and aligning with the mountains and waters, he took up residence according to his inclination, seeking out like-minded companions without dread of danger. On Mount Matou was Dhyāna Master Sengshan, who gathered disciples to cultivate practice; [Xiao] followed him to practice meditation (dhyāna), occasionally returning to Lang's temple to broadly elucidate the Vinaya. During the Renshou reign, he repeatedly went to Mount Huangjia, spending the summer retreat (varṣā) against a cliff. A fugitive on the run took refuge with him on account of an incident; unable to bear sending him away, he harbored and concealed him for a long time. Later, when the matter came to light, [the fugitive] implicated Xiao as his associate. Everywhere authorities pursued and pressed him to appear in prison. It happened that both Lang and Shan had passed away, and burdened by the crime of harbor, he shook his mendicant staff and departed south, traveling by way of Puban. At that time, the śramaṇas Daoji, Shensu, Daojie, and others—the finest talents of the Jin River basin—had long associated with him and detained him for consecutive years. Under the decline of the reign of Emperor Yang of the Sui, legal decrees became increasingly onerous, and strict penal clauses regarding harboring were exceedingly harsh. Xiao, having pledged himself to the Way, drifted east and west according to circumstances, his name long removed from registration registers, residing in remote and rugged places. From the Zhongtiao and Wangwu ranges to vast ravines and deep forests, there was no danger he did not climb, as if strolling in a courtyard. When the Central Plains fell into chaos and demonic vapors brought total turmoil, Ding Rong, vice-governor of Hedong Commandery, reverently submitted to his virtuous teaching and invited him to dwell at Renshou [Temple], where he continuously propagated the Vinayapiṭaka, with students following shoulder to shoulder. During the Yining reign, he was detained in the Western City, yet did not compromise his teaching activities. Later, when peace was restored, the Dharma assemblies were held in even higher esteem; the fivefold assembly from Pu, Shaan, Jin, and Jiang prefectures took him as their master. In the fourteenth year of Zhenguan, he passed away at Renshou [Temple], at the age of seventy-three. Ever since Xiao devoted his heart to the practice of the precepts, expounding and guiding had been his primary purpose. In receiving friends and associating with the virtuous, none in his time could match him. Whenever he remembered his past pleasant travels with Lang and Shan, tears would unconsciously stream without cause; unable to restrain them, he would climb to a height and weep bitterly. Such was the extent of his valuing friendship and yearning for the virtuous. He once lectured on the Nirvāṇa [Sūtra] about ten times, yet still regretted that he had not achieved merit in the Mahāyāna; thereupon he immersed himself in reading the Avataṃsaka [Sūtra], reciting it incessantly for several years without letting the text leave his hands. When someone invited Xiao to be the chief lecturer on the Vaipulya (Fangguang), he stopped them, saying, 'I have not yet comprehended the meaning of the sūtra; how could I lecture on it?' People at the time regarded him as upright and scrupulous, and he also feared misleading later students.

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續高僧傳 — 道宣, Classical Chinese

續高僧傳 22

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