續高僧傳 26.79

26.79

Śramaṇa Bao'an was a native of Yanzhou. Content with poverty, he devoted himself to study, and those who saw him revered him. At first, he relied on Huiyuan to listen to and investigate the Nirvāṇa, broadly examining its essential tenets. When the Zhou destroyed the Qi, he fled south to the Chen state. When the Great Sui unified the realm, he returned to his home region. Traveling to Chanluo, he followed [Hui]yuan again; continuing his former studies, he saw their depths even more profoundly. In the seventh year of Kaihuang, drawn by admiration for righteousness, he entered the Pass and resided at Jingying Monastery. When [Hui]yuan was in his prime, nearly a thousand listeners sat beneath his wheel of the Dharma; the discipline and regulations of the lecture assemblies were entirely entrusted to Bao'an's charge. At that time, eminent figures gathered like spokes from distant places, making harmony difficult to maintain; hence he was appointed to this post. Bao'an adapted to circumstances to guide them, correcting and saving them with proper decorum; though he carried out disciplinary investigations, none bore resentment, but each harbored reverence and admiration, praising him in speech. He was a master of the time, thoroughly versed in expounding the Daśabhūmika and the Nirvāṇa. By nature restrained and silent, he took no pleasure in self-promotion; yet when questioned, his eloquent responses flowed like a spring. In the second year of Renshou, by imperial decree he erected a stupa at Fanchuang Monastery in Yingzhou, which is the city of Huanglong. There was originally a seventeen-story stupa; they enclosed it within and enshrined the relic. In the middle of that night, white light emitted upwards, resembling clouds and mist; at first only ten feet high, it gradually grew to fill the courtyard, remaining bright and clear for a long time before extinguishing. This happened three times in all, each identical to the other. There was an old stone turtle of immense size; intending to make a casket out of it, hauling it was extremely difficult. A stone mason shaped it and cut it down to form a casket, removing two parts out of three. Bao'an thought to himself: "The stone is large and the casket small; how can it be finished quickly?" Fearing that the deadline would be missed, he harbored anxiety within. By dawn, when he looked at it, the stone suited the casket, having split naturally; without requiring chisel or carving, it was smoothly completed. Although the casket was divinely made, by calculation it ought to have been extremely heavy, but when dragged lightly it sped along as if galloping; arriving at the monastery without effort, it met the deadline. He deeply rejoiced in his heartfelt wish. In his later years, he returned to the capital monastery; the circumstances of his death are unknown.