續高僧傳 6
English (machine translation) 6
- Language
- English
6.1
Compiled by the Śramaṇa Shi Daoxuan of Ximing Monastery in the Great Tang
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Section on Doctrinal Exegesis, Part Two: Twenty-one principal biographies, sixteen appended biographies
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Biography 1: Śramaṇa Shi Huichao of Nanjian Monastery, Grand Rectifier of Monks under the Liang
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Biography 2: Zhizhe Shi Huiyue of Caotang Monastery, Imperial Preceptor under the Liang
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Biography 3: Shi Tanluan of Xuanzhong Monastery in Shibigu, Xihe under the Wei
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Biography 4: Shi Huishao of Longyuan Monastery in Shu Commandery under the Liang
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Biography 5: Shi Huijiao of Jiaxiang Monastery in Kuaiji under the Liang
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Biography 6: Shi Daobian of Luoyang under the Wei (Tanyong, one unnamed)
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Biography 7: Shi Daodeng of Baode Monastery in Hengzhou under the Wei
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Biography 8: Shi Sengmi of Zhuangyan Monastery in the capital of Yang under the Liang
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Biography 9: Shi Tanzhun of Xianggong Monastery in the capital of Yang under the Liang (Zhishen)
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Biography 10: Shi Daochao of Lingji Monastery in the capital of Yang under the Liang (Hui'an)
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Biography 11: Shi Sengqiao of Longguang Monastery in the capital of Yang under the Liang (Huisheng, Sengzheng, Huiji)
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Biography 12: Shi Huikai of Pengcheng Monastery in the capital of Yang under the Liang (Tanjun)
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Biography 13: Shi Mingche of Jianchu Monastery in the capital of Yang under the Liang
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Biography 14: Shi Fakai of West Monastery in Yuhang under the Liang
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Biography 15: Shi Daozong of Waguan Monastery in the capital of Yang under the Liang (Fachang)
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Biography 16: Shi Fazhen of Guangde Monastery in Luoxia under the Wei (Sengjian, Huicong, Daoji)
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Biography 17: Shi Baoyuan of Luotiangong Monastery in Yizhou under the Liang (Fawen, Fadu, Fahu; originally missing)
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Biography 18: Shi Sengxun of Zhicheng Monastery in the capital of Yang under the Liang (Daosui, Daobiao; originally missing)
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Biography 19: Shi Huichao of Linggen Monastery in the capital of Yang under the Liang (originally missing)
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Biography 20: Shi Zhenyu of Tianping Monastery in Ye under the Qi
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Biography 21: Shi Sengqian, Grand Rectifier of Monks of Jingzhou under the Later Liang
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Shi Huichao, whose secular surname was Lian, was a native of Yangping in Zhao Commandery. During the turmoil in the Central Plains, he fled from disorder to Zhaoge County in Zhongli. On the night of his birth, a divine light illuminated the room. In his youth, he was reserved, serene, and had few desires, already possessing the signs of an adult. At the age of eight, he underwent pravrajyā, following the śramaṇa Huitong of Jian'an Monastery in Linfan County. Huitong originally had no scholarly expertise and conducted himself with single-minded simplicity. Huichao, with an upright mind and devout compliance, served and respected him without negligence, while outwardly attending various lectures, diligently striving in his studies. Whenever he encountered wind, rain, hardship, or impassable muddy roads, he never used them as an excuse. Once, there was a foreign monk staying in his seating quarters who was an inscrutable man; upon catching sight of him, the foreign monk marveled in admiration and said: 'If this man does not become a paragon among the five assemblies, he will become an inspector of eight provinces.' He also recounted the auspicious sign of the divine light, matching it like two halves of a tally. Huichao then extensively gathered scriptural texts and Abhidharma treatises, thoroughly plumbing their profound meanings until they were as clear as a string of pearls. At grand assemblies of renowned monks, amidst dense gatherings and expansive seats, as arguments swirled in rise and fall, he maintained an poised and exemplary bearing; thus monastics and laypeople alike early admired his lofty standard. Later, he traveled south to Jiangzuo and resided at Nanjian Monastery. Sengzong saw him, approved of him, and transmitted to him sūtras such as the Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra. Opening up the main threads, Huichao gained a general mastery of their subtle principles. He reviewed various masters and widely consulted them, specializing in the Amitāyus Sūtra as his authority. Xie Yue of the Ministry of Personnel often praised him, saying: 'What a noble man this is!' He was also skilled in witty humor, particularly excelled in cursive and clerical scripts, and studied both Zhu [Shuyuan] and Xu [Xuan]. Furthermore, he was adept at physiognomy and divination. As the Qi dynasty came to its close and the Liang mandate began, Huichao feigned illness at Xinlin, his heart set on rescuing those who were drowning. In a brief interval, his renown spread to the imperial capital. Soon there was a special edict appointing him Rectifier of Monks. He cultivated moral precepts internally and kept his deportment pure externally; all among the monastic assembly received his established guidance. The Son of Heaven provided him with imperial messenger relays, a goat cart, couriers, swift-footed runners, robes, and other offerings. Wherever his authoritative teaching reached, the ordinances of the five vinaya traditions all followed his model. The Emperor, regarding the meaning of prajñā as the tenet of ultimate truth, especially ordered him to guide and transform others; thus inquiries arose like spear-points, yet his continuous eloquence flowed like a river. Once, when gathering disciples in the capital to lecture on the meaning of the bodhicitta, during an intermission in the discussion deep in the night before sleeping, he suddenly saw a powerful, benevolent deity of exceedingly handsome appearance. The deity presently said: 'I shall gather those of shared karmic affinity and come together to receive nourishment [from the Dharma].' He did not state his name or surname, and thereupon bade farewell. When the time for the lecture came, the seats suddenly filled with beings of wondrous and extraordinary appearance whom no one recognized; when the session ended, they immediately dispersed. His evocative signs and extraordinary portents were like this. In addition, by nature he loved mountains and rivers, frequently realizing quiet excursions; the sounds of his entourage were heard for several miles around. Mountain dwellers looked with wonder, seeing only Huichao's person, while hunters all spontaneously ceased their hunting. During the Tianjian era, the Emperor requested him to be his domestic monk, treating him with extraordinary deference and inquiries. Initially, when the vinaya texts flowed east, people transmitted and received them individually; held by partial views, the wondrous Dharma was still defective. When the August Brightness ruled the realm, gathering and selecting from the various scriptures, a circular altar was reconstructed and the textual meaning was thus established, making clear the matters and categories of cause and effect. An imperial edict ordered Huichao to receive the bodhisattva precepts, which he reverently took upon the crown of his head and diligently cultivated in accordance with the Dharma. When the sovereign again fasted in the Xuan Hall, he dreamt of Huichao diligently practicing the categories of precepts, and in person expressed praise and delight; at that time everyone joined in exalting him. Yet Huichao was modest in speech, walked in propriety, and loved tranquility and devoted study; those who associated and resided with him never saw expressions of anger or joy. Moreover, his stature exceeded eight feet, his waist measured ten spans, and with a dignified, lofty stride, his renown was illustrious in that era. The Emperor also requested him to lecture on the Vimalakīrtinirdeśa Sūtra at the Huilun Palace, with the sovereign personally attending and listening. Before Zhuangyan Monastery was founded, its grounds adjoined Nanjian [Monastery]; he therefore constructed multi-tiered chambers that overlapped like fish scales. Soaring pavilions reached high into the sky, embracing clouds and mist; clear green ponds were channeled to nurture fish and lotuses, and verdant hills were built to lodge the feathered flock. Planted rows of bamboo and fruit trees cast shade on all four sides, while birds among the trees and animals among the rocks crisscrossed back and forth. Furthermore, rows of young attendants were arrayed, elegantly surpassing those of princes and dukes. He resolved the doubts of the multitude and was the lofty model of an era. He remained in his post for more than twenty years. Later, seeing that hills and valleys swap places and worldly manifestations cannot be relied upon, he resigned on his own initiative, closed his chambers, and nurtured his plain nature. On the sixteenth day of the fifth month of the seventh year of Putong, his spirit departed in his monastic room. Passersby shed tears, and students hastened to attend. All expenses for his funeral rites were issued from the imperial treasury. His disciples, recalling his virtuous favor, erected a stele for him; Prince Yi of Xiangdong and Xie Jiqing of Chen Commandery each composed texts, both carved at the tomb site.
6.25
Shi Huiyue, styled Desu, was surnamed Lou and was a native of Wuchang in Dongyang. For successive generations his ancestors formed an unbroken line of premier clans in the southeast. A geomancer who examined his family grave said: “In a later generation there will surely be one who attains the Way through ascetic practice and becomes a preceptor to emperors and kings.” His mother, Lady Liu, dreamed of a tall man holding a golden statue and bidding her swallow it; she also saw purple light encircling her body. Thereupon she became pregnant, and at once felt her spirit turn bright and keen, and her reasoning clear and perceptive. On the day of his birth, radiant light and fragrance filled the room, and his body was as white as snow. The locals therefore called him Lingcan. By nature his judgment was upright and simple, and his mind calm and settled. Even in the years of sweeping dust [as a toddler], he differed from common boys: he would only gather sand to make stupas, or pile stones to serve as high seats. At seven he asked to enter schooling, whereupon he could recite the Classic of Filial Piety and the Analects; coming to the histories and biographies, he grasped the meaning as soon as he opened the texts. South of his residence was an orchard, which neighbouring children vied to plunder, constantly causing trouble; [Huiyue] simply gave away all he had obtained and returned empty-handed. His home district engaged in sericulture as its livelihood; he constantly felt sorrow and pity for it, and from then on refused to wear silk or floss. His younger uncle was fond of hunting and would not change despite admonition. [Huiyue] often sighed: “Birds and beasts are far removed from human beings, yet they love life and dread death; how does their feeling differ from ours?” He thereupon cut off all meat and pungent food. His uncle then went off to other hamlets to slaughter freely, but dreamed of an envoy in red robes holding a spear and halberd, who said to him: “You kill living beings all day long, and even the bodhisattva’s instruction cannot stop you. Hurry and face death!” He awoke startled and dripping with sweat, and at dawn smashed all his hunting gear, deeply reforming his former faults. When Yue went again to the usual hunting grounds, he saw dozens of elks and deer jumping and lingering as they followed him, as though expressing remorse and gratitude. He lived in a remote and secluded quarter, where he had never seen a monastery; the locals venerated Laozi and the Yellow Emperor and had never heard the Buddha’s Dharma. Yet through past karmic predispositions he had an unseen resonance, and his heart was set on leaving the secular world. Suddenly he met a monk, whom he asked about the supreme teaching; the monk raised his hand, pointed east, and said: “In Shan Buddhist affairs flourish greatly.” Then he vanished, and only then did [Yue] realize he was a divine being. At the age of twelve he first travelled to Shan, paying homage everywhere to stupas and temples and wandering freely among the mountains and rivers; meeting far away with his original aspiration, he investigated the scriptures in great depth. Thus a ballad in the eastern region ran: “The young Lou Upāsaka, / who has mastered the subtle truth.” In the fourth year of the Taishi era of the Song (468), he took leave of his kin and shaved his head at Dongshan Monastery in Shangyu, at the age of seventeen. He served the śramaṇa Huijing of Nanlin Monastery. Jing stood foremost in prestige among the monks of the Song dynasty; he held to the Vinaya discipline in its entirety and was esteemed by the Special Commissioner Yan Yannian and the Minister of Works He Shangzhi. [Yue] also followed Jing to reside at Fanju Monastery in Shan, attending upon him with diligent care for over a decade. When Jing passed away, he observed the funeral rites with full devotion. After the mourning period concluded, he abstained from grains and dwelt in the crags, feeding on pine needles and atractylodes; this eliminated illness and prolonged his youth, yielding profound benefits. King of Jingling of the Qi governed the region of Yu’s Cave; hearing of Yue’s refined character and virtue, he deeply admired and esteemed him. At that time, Shi Zhixiu, Tanxian, Huici, and others—all men of prominent fame in their day—were gathered together in the King’s assembly. Yue arrived later, and his monastic age was not yet advanced, yet the King bowed respectfully and paid him the utmost reverence. The assembly all showed displeasure on their faces. The King said: “This eminent person is destined to become a leader of the Buddhist order; how could I treat him merely as he is today?” Thus was he revered by the noble and eminent even in his youth. Zhou Yong of Runan, a Secretariat Drafter of the Qi, served as the Magistrate of Shan; admiring his virtuous plainness, he vacated his seat to pay him special courtesy. At the former lodge of Lei Cizong on Mount Zhong, he built Caotang Monastery, also known as Shanci, and invited Yue to take charge of monastery affairs. This monastery had its halls set on the mountain ridge, its soil cleared by hidden gorges; though not far from the towns, it was desolate and beyond worldly affairs. Since it profoundly accorded with his original sincerity, he committed to make it his final resting place. Yong sighed: “Yue, the master of Shanci, is pure and aloof, unequalled in the world.” Chu Yuan, Duke Wenjian, the Grand Preceptor of Qi, and Wang Jian, Duke Wenxian, the Grand Defender, had assisted their dynasty in founding the empire, their merits outstanding for a hundred generations; admiring his wind and tasting the Way, they joined in promoting the Dharma teachings. Yuan once invited him to lecture on the Vimalakīrtinirdeśa and Śrīmālādevī Sūtras; Jian also invited him to open the Saddharmapuṇḍarīka and Pañcaviṃśatisāhasrikā Prajñāpāramitā Sūtras. When Yuan fell ill, he napped during the day and saw a foreign monk say: “A bodhisattva is about to arrive; the man of the Way who comes shortly is he.” Soon afterward Yue came to visit, and [Yuan’s] illness was immediately cured; he at once requested to receive the five precepts. Lou Youyu, a Palace Attendant of Qi, had engaged in scholarship from his youth and was Yue’s great-uncle. Whenever they met, he would always rush to pay him homage. Someone asked: “This is merely a junior relative of your clan; why are you so respectful?” Yu replied: “A bodhisattva has appeared in the world and is about to be a preceptor to all under heaven; how could it be that only this old man pays him reverence?” The people of that time did not grasp this point; only Wang Wenxian thoroughly agreed. Moreover, Yue’s filial piety resonated with the unseen realm; longing to return home, he swiftly went back, yet both his parents had died, and he only arrived in time to bid them farewell. Weeping like an infant, he cut off all contact with the secular world, remaining in his home district for a long time to open up the way of compassion. Later he returned to the capital and again resided at Caotang Monastery. During the Longchang era, Junior Preceptor Shen Yue took up an external appointment, and brought Yue along with him. In the commandery [Yue] took pleasure solely in quietude and detachment, delighting in meditation and recitation. Rare fragrance entered his chamber, and wild beasts became tame before his steps. He often entered Mount Jinhua to gather citrus fruits, or stayed and wandered by the Chisong Stream. Sometimes he came upon old flames, or suddenly encountered divine radiance; their wonders were inconceivable, so the details are omitted here. There was a Daoist, Ding Dejing, who died suddenly in his lodge; it was rumoured that he had been brought down by mountain spirits. They thereupon invited a Libationer of the Great Cure to dwell there, but the apparitions remained rife. Xu Bochao, Magistrate of Changshan, made a proposal: they invited Yue to move in, and before ten days had passed, the spirits and ghosts were pacified. Later, while resting by day, he saw two maidens in green clothes emerge from the stream water, bow, and repent, saying: “Our past karmic hindrances were grave, so we fell to become these water spirits, suffering afflictions day and night.” They immediately asked to be granted the precepts. From that time forth, disasters and strange occurrences ceased forever. When Lord Shen left his post in the commandery, they returned to the capital together, and Yue took up residence again at his original monastery. [Shen] served him with reverent diligence, his respect growing ever deeper. Their literary exchanges followed one upon another without pause. Because Shen’s literary talent was renowned, standing preeminent in his day, whenever he took up office and attended to duties, they would always live together in the government quarters; Yue came and went as he pleased, never letting vermilion gates or wattle doors stand between them. During the Jianwu era of the Qi, he said to Shen: “In the past I was supported by the two dukes Wang and Chu, and consequently resided in the offices of the directors and vice directors. When you, Dānapati, take that post, I shall have to enter the ground again.” In the first year of Tianjian (502), Shen became Vice Director of the Department of State Affairs; he petitioned for an imperial edict to invite him to live in the department. In the eleventh year (512), when he was Prefect of Danyang, Shen sighed for no reason, lamenting the sorrows of life. [Yue] replied: “Your karmic rewards as a Dānapati are already exhausted, and I have not yet attained extinction.” His words were full of sorrow. Shortly afterward Shen passed away; Yue’s foreknowledge of what had not yet happened was always of this sort. Afterwards he devoted his mind to the Vaipulya sūtras and studied the nine divisions of scriptures intensively; all were stored in his treasury of a heart and polished within his bosom. He expounded them openly and propagated them widely, never stepping back when benevolence was at stake; labouring to guide others, he brought great benefit to all living beings. The Emperor, carving the plain jade of culture, put faith in the unconditioned Way and gave rise to the bodhicitta; he constructed the Chongyun Hall. Because the practice of the precepts is subtle and refined, its merit deep and vast, it is indeed the root of the ten thousand virtues and the foremost of all practices—like the great ocean, chief of the hundred rivers, or Mount Sumeru, highest of the mountain peaks; the three fruits and four stages of realization are achieved through this, and the ten powers and three knowledges are established because of this. The Emperor thereupon gathered widely from the scriptural teachings, composed and established the precept categories, drafted every clause, and fully laid out the rituals. He constructed a round altar to clarify the ultimate fruit. Believing that the Way depends on people to be propagated, and that principles are not transmitted in vain, he held that things require personal practice before the people’s faith can be established. Moreover, emperors and monarchs have had ministers as teachers, and great sages have had friends as teachers; since ancient times this way has never fallen away. The Divine Farmer, the Yellow Emperor, the Duke of Zhou, and Confucius modelled their laws on benevolence and righteousness; how much more so should this be for the principle that transcends heaven and humanity, the meaning that surpasses names and rank! Considering Yue’s virtue to be lofty above the human world and his realization to extend to the unseen realm, [the Emperor judged that] he was truly worthy of the honour of an ācārya and corresponded to the title of “Wise One” (Zhizhe). [Yue] demurred and yielded, steadfastly declining; yet after earnest entreaties, his refusal could not prevail. In the eleventh year of Tianjian (512), an imperial decree was first issued to summon him to an audience; their concerns were in harmony with what their minds had expected, and the Way was recognized at a glance. From then on he came and went from the imperial palace, receiving abundant offerings of respect. On the eighth day of the fourth month of the eighteenth year, a yihai year (519), the Son of Heaven gave rise to a vast vow and received the bodhisattva precepts. He proceeded to Dengjue Hall, descended from his carriage of carved jade, lowered his dignity as lord of ten thousand chariots, and displayed the reverence due to the three masters. Setting aside his imperial robes for a time, he respectfully received the robes of fields [of merit]; after the pure ritual of ordination was pronounced, he bowed in sincere solemnity. At that time the sun and moon shone pure and glorious, and heaven and earth were bright and clear. An amnesty was granted to all under heaven, and the entire land celebrated together. From then on, when Yue entered for an audience, a separate lacquered couch was set out; the Emperor first bowed to him and only then took his seat. From the heir apparent down to the imperial princesses, both clergy and laity, scholars and commoners, all hoped for liberation; the disciples registered on the rolls numbered forty-eight thousand in all. Once, while he was conferring the precepts, a magpie ascended the steps, looking as though it were receiving food; it stayed until the recitation of the precepts was finished, and only then flew away. On another occasion, while he was expounding the precepts, two peacocks could not be driven away. An imperial order permitted them to come up; they walked slowly to the altar, bowed their necks, and listened to the Dharma. The Emperor said: “These birds surely wish to attain extinction and receive another fruit of rebirth.” Pitying their sincere devotion, Yue preached the Dharma further for them; a few days later, both birds transformed and died for no apparent reason. Furthermore, when he first conferred the precepts, he dreamed by night that carpets and rugs were laid from Caotang Monastery all the way to the palace gates; he himself sat upon a dhyāna bed several tens of feet above the ground, surrounded by heavenly beings, preaching the Dharma to the multitude. Examining this in light of events, it is equal to the Yellow Emperor’s dream of visiting Huaxu, and identical to Maudgalyāyana’s spirit ascending to Tuṣita. Who could pass judgment on the conduct of a supreme man? Yet he loved quietude, and auspicious flowers bloomed in his empty chamber. Those dwelling near the monastery all gave rise to the way of compassion, so that roe deer and stags flocked with rhinos and tigers, and wild ducks and geese grew familiar with hawks and falcons; flying and running, soaring and creeping creatures became tame with one another. Were it not for the subtle transformation wrought by his benevolent grace, who could have accomplished this? Later, while he was dwelling quietly in an empty room, a rustic old woman suddenly brought several fascicles of books, placed them on the sutra desk, and departed without a word; she also carried a strange tree and planted it in the courtyard, saying it was a “Qingting tree”. Yue said: “If these books are good, they need not wait for me to read them; if they are bad, it is also not worth the trouble to inspect them.” After seven days an old man appeared, asked for the books, and withdrew. The tree still remains with its green leaves, red flowers, and spreading branches. He also attracted strange birds, with red bodies and long tails, shaped like kingfishers, which roosted together, coming and going among the tree. In the fourth year of Zhongdatong (532), he dreamed of his old residence, with white walls and vermilion gates, splendid and magnificent; he thereupon vowed to build a monastery, and an imperial decree named it Bensheng. In the first year of Datong (535), an imperial decree also renamed his dwelling in Zhushan Hamlet to Zhizhe Hamlet. The old territory of Jinyun has its fragrant reputation passed down in maps and registers; its mountains and rivers are divinely wondrous, boasting unique beauty throughout China; an auspicious site and immortal land was thus established here. Yet Yue fed on pine needles and atractylodes for more than thirty years, and wore clothes of coarse hemp for over seventy years; he conducted himself with modest restraint and enjoyed the highest reputation in his day. In the eighth month of the first year of Datong, he ordered someone to cut the tree branches outside the gate, saying: “The imperial carriage will be coming; do not let them block the road.” People could not fathom his meaning. On the sixth day of the ninth month he manifested illness; he lay with his head to the north and on his right side, his consciousness tranquil and joyful, entirely free of pain or distress. He said to his disciples: “I dreamed of the assemblies of the four divisions with banners and flowers arrayed in the air, welcoming me and soaring into the clouds; my karmic rewards are about to end.” On the sixteenth day, the Emperor sent Palace Attendant Xu Yan to inquire after his illness; Yue replied: “I shall depart tonight.” At the second call of the fifth watch, a rare fragrance filled the room, and those around him fell silent in awe. He then said: “That there is death where there is life is the natural and constant rule. Cultivate mindfulness and wisdom diligently, and do not give rise to scattered thoughts.” Having spoken, he joined his palms and entered nirvāṇa. His worldly age was eighty-four, and his monastic age was sixty-three. The Son of Heaven wept bitterly in farewell; the ministers and officials suspended their administrative reviews for twenty-one days. On the twenty-ninth day of that month, he was buried to the left of the tomb of Baozhi on Mount Dulong. Earlier, when Yue lay ill, he saw an old man holding a staff enter; when the day of his passing came, the monks divined a site on the eastern crag of the monastery, but the Emperor relocated the burial to Mount Dulong. Could the old man seen previously have been Master Zhi welcoming him? Moreover, on the night of his demise, the blue ox he rode suddenly bellowed, its tears streaming down. On the day of the funeral, an imperial envoy led the ox along with the entourage from the monastery to the mountain, its bellowing and weeping never ceasing. In addition, when the stupa was first constructed, a pair of white cranes circled the mound, crying sorrowfully and plaintively; three days after the burial, they suddenly departed forever. An imperial decree ordered a stele to be erected to the left of the tomb, and commissioned Wang Yun to compose the text.
6.26
Shi Tanluan, also written as Luan, whose clan name is unknown, was a native of Yanmen. His home was near Mount Wutai, where miracles and marvels far exceeded what common people had heard. Before reaching the age of formal study, he went there to seek them out and saw all the remaining traces. His heart and spirit rejoiced, and he forthwith renounced household life (pravrajyā). He thoroughly mastered the literary principles of both internal and external scriptures, and deeply investigated the Four Treatises and the Buddha-nature. While reading the Mahāsaṃnipāta Sūtra, he regretted that its language and meaning were so profound and abstruse that they were difficult to understand. He thereupon wrote a commentary on it. When the text was more than half finished, he contracted an illness of the qi. He temporarily set aside his brushwork to travel about seeking medical treatment. Traveling to the ancient ruins of Qinding in Fenling, he entered the eastern gate of the walled city and looked up into the blue sky. Suddenly he saw the gates of heaven open wide; the ranks and stages of the Six Heavens of Desire, above and below, one upon another, were distinctly and simultaneously beheld. Through this his illness was cured. Intending to resume his previous work, he turned to reflect and said, 'Life is fragile and brittle, and its course is never constant. The various herbal classics fully elucidate proper treatments; long-lived divine immortals occasionally appear. If I direct my heart's aspiration to practicing such arts, and once that is accomplished, then revere the Buddhist teaching—would that not also be good?' Hearing that in Jiangnan, the Recluse Tao [Hongjing] was the authority on magical arts, possessing broad, profound, and abundant learning, and was revered by the entire realm, he went to join him. Upon reaching the Liang court during the Datong era, he reported his name as: 'The monk Tanluan, a captive from the Northern Kingdom, has purposely come to pay his respects.' At that time, the officials suspected he was a spy. They interrogated him, but found no discrepancy in his statements, and memorialized the matter to the throne. The Emperor said, 'This is no spy sent to spy out our state. Let him be led into the Hall of Layered Clouds by way of the Thousand-Labyrinth Path.' The Emperor had earlier sat in a corner of the hall on a rope-chair, wearing a kaṣāya and covered in a patch-robe cowl. When Luan reached the front of the hall, he looked around and saw no one receiving him. He saw an erected high seat with a small table and a chowry placed upon it right in the middle of the hall, and no other seats beside it. He walked straight up to ascend it and set forth the meaning of Buddha-nature. Calling out to the Emperor three times, he said, 'Great dānapati! The meaning of the Buddha-nature is profound; I have already briefly outlined it. If you have any doubts, please deign to ask.' The Emperor threw back his patch-robe cowl, and then went back and forth with several subtle points. He then said, 'It is getting late today; we must meet tomorrow.' Luan came down from the seat and walked straight out as before. Passing through more than twenty winding, overlapping gates, he made not a single mistake. The Emperor was extremely amazed and sighed, 'This Thousand-Labyrinth Path has always baffled even my long-serving attendants who come and go. How could he traverse it just once without being bewildered?' The next morning, he was ushered into the Taiji Hall. The Emperor descended the steps to receive him with courteous etiquette and inquired about his purpose in coming. Luan said, 'I wish to learn the Buddha-Dharma, but my lifespan is short and dwindling. Therefore, I have come from afar to visit the Recluse Tao to seek arts of immortality.' The Emperor said, 'He is a hermit who disdains worldly affairs. Lately, though repeatedly summoned, he has refused to come. You are free to go visit him.' Luan thereupon sent a letter conveying his inquiries. Tao replied, saying: 'Last month my ears heard your voice, and today my eyes receive your writing. It must be that accumulated years of prostrations have brought an arhat to grace us with his presence. I am at this moment dusting the cane-mat, setting out flowers and water, straightening my lapel and collecting my thoughts, waiting to hear your warning staff.' When Luan reached his mountain retreat, Tao received him joyfully, and presented him with ten fascicles of Daoist scriptures to reward his intention in coming from afar. Returning to the Zhe River, there was a spirit named Lord Baolang: when he raised waves, they would only cease after seven days. It happened to be the beginning of the surges, so there was no way to cross. Luan went to the spirit's shrine and prayed earnestly, saying that if his plea were granted, he would build a shrine for him. In an instant, the spirit appeared in bodily form, appearing as if twenty years old, and came to tell Luan, 'If you wish to cross, you will be able to do so tomorrow morning. I hope you will not break your word.' When the next morning came, the waves were still raging, but no sooner had Luan entered the boat than it became calm and peaceful. Reaching the Emperor on schedule, he recounted the circumstances in detail. An imperial edict ordered an efficacious shrine to be built for the river god. Thereupon taking his leave, Luan returned to the Wei territory, intending to go to a famous mountain to cultivate the methods according to the recipes. Traveling as far as Luoyang, he met the Tripiṭaka Master Bodhiruci from India. Luan went to address him, asking, 'In the Buddha-Dharma, is there any method of eternal life without dying that surpasses the scriptures of immortality in this land?' Bodhiruci spat on the ground and said, 'What kind of talk is this? They are not comparable! Where in this land could there be a method for eternal life? Even if one attains longevity and does not die for a short while, in the end one still transmigrates in the three realms of existence!' He immediately handed him the Contemplation Sūtra (Guan jing) and said, 'This is the recipe of the Great Immortal. Cultivating and practicing according to it, you will attain liberation from birth and death.' Luan thereupon received it atop his head and burned all the immortal recipes he had brought with him. He practiced it himself and transformed others, spreading the teaching far and wide. The ruler of Wei respected him, designating him 'Divine Luan.' An imperial decree ordered him to reside in the Great Monastery of Bingzhou. Later he moved to Xuanzhong Monastery at the stone cliff of the Northern Mountains in Fenzhou. He occasionally went to the shady side of Mount Jie, where he gathered disciples and energetically pursued his work; today this is called Master Luan's Cliff. In the fourth year of the Xinghe era of Eastern Wei, he died of illness at the mountain monastery of Pingyao, at the age of sixty-seven. On the day he approached his end, banners, flowers, streamers, and canopies shone high over the courtyard, fragrance billowed up, and music and chanting resounded loudly. All those who were at the monastery witnessed it together. When the matter was reported to the throne, an imperial decree ordered him to be buried at Wengu in Tailing, west of the Fen River. A brick stupa was constructed and a stele erected for him; both still survive today. Moreover, Luan's spiritual bearing was lofty and far-reaching, and his resourcefulness without limit. In conversation he did not pause to think, yet his actions accorded with circumstances. He regulated his mind, practiced breath control, and discerned causes according to illnesses. His fame filled the Wei capital, where he was taken as a model. He composed the Tiaogi lun (Treatise on Regulating the Breath); Wang Shao, the Director of the Palace Library, annotated it according to the text. He also composed the Twelve Gāthās of Praise to the Pure Land, continuing after the gāthās of Nāgārjuna. He also compiled the Anle ji (Collection of Peace and Joy) in two fascicles, among others, which circulated widely in the world. He still referred to himself as the Great Being Xuanjian of the Great Wei.
6.27
Shi Huishao was surnamed Chen; his ancestors were originally descendants of Taiqiu of Yingchuan. Fleeing disorder, he resided in the rural hamlets of Danyang. By nature quiet, vacant, and of few desires, he was resolute and spoke little. Bereaved of his father in childhood, he was raised by his elder brother, and his utmost fraternal affection was renowned in the village. At the age of twelve, weary of the world, he renounced household life (pravrajyā). Having received full ordination, he traveled to the capital, Yangzhou. He listened to Master Min of Zhuangyan Monastery lecture and explain the Satyasiddhi-śāstra. After hearing it only twice, his notes were nearly complete. He said to his fellow student Huifeng, 'I have been bathed in the Dao for only a short time, yet I already understand its tenets. Why is this? Is it not that the doctrines I heard were shallow, or was it brought about by good instruction?' He then tried attending the lectures of Dharma Master Zang of Kaishan Monastery, whereupon he felt that the principles were as profound as the words. He then exerted all his mind in delving into and looking up to them. That night he had a dream in which he went to Kaishan Monastery and gathered several bushels of plums; eager to eat them, he first grasped the branches and leaves. Upon awakening, he understood and said, 'I should indeed learn from him; I will certainly tread the deepest ultimate.' Soon afterward Master Zang passed away, and Master Chao of Longguang Monastery followed in his footsteps to transmit the tradition. Huishao turned to listen to him. Since he lacked a copy of the treatise, the rules did not permit him to stay. He had only a single cape, and it was severe winter; he took it off and used it to pay for copying the treatise. Enduring the cold with chattering teeth, he was only then able to participate in hearing the text and meaning. In addition, he was gifted with independent insight, excelling far above the assembly. He argued that the truth of cessation (nirodha-satya) is fundamentally existent, and used gross and subtle aspects to analyze the mind. At the time, people considered his deep analysis to possess divine insight. When the King of Wuling under the Liang went out to govern Yong and Shu, hearing that many there engaged in doctrinal studies, he deemed that only someone of grand understanding and immense prestige could explain and proclaim the teachings. The candidates recommended by the assembly's deliberations were not to his liking. The King said, 'I recall in past years at a Dharma assembly there was a northern monk, Dharma Master Shao, who alone is suited for this choice. If we could obtain him to go with us, I expect he will be able to stimulate the frontier region.' He thereupon invited him to Shu. In various monasteries, his lectures, debates, and spiritual guidance flowed like a river. When his exposition at Longyuan Monastery was nearly finished, as he sat quietly in his room, he had a vision of a deity wearing blue clothes and a small cloth cap, who paid respects and said, 'May the Dharma Master always propagate the Dharma here; I will protect you.' Having spoken, the deity vanished. Thereupon he gave successive lecture sessions, clarifying and resolving complex and tangled knots. Formerly in the capital of Yangzhou, he had often suffered from a qi illness, his anxious thoughts constantly stirring. But after arriving in Shu to lecture, all his ailments vanished. Those who knew regarded this as the protection of the monastery's deity. At that time, three or four Dharma assemblies were always held simultaneously in Chengdu, the Dharma drums beating together in rivalry to throw open the abstruse gates. Yet Shao's audience was so magnificent that none surpassed it. Moreover, he led the assembly of listeners to chant the Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra and the Mahāprajñāpāramitā Sūtra, each person chanting one fascicle to make up a complete set; several times each year they gathered to chant them in order. If there were errors or lapses of memory, or if someone fell asleep during the lecture and missed something, he would take the punishment upon himself in their stead. Apologizing to the assembly, he said, 'This is because my instruction was not clear.' Thus he used his own person to exhort others; his diligence reached this degree. When the King of Wuling administered Shu, whenever he composed treatises on the Mahāyāna and the Tripiṭaka, śramaṇas such as Baotuan, Baogai, and Zhikong—all peaks among the younger generation—participated in the compilation. When the fascicles were completed, the King rewarded them with a hundred thousand cash. Shao immediately distributed it at Longyuan Monastery to provide for the students. The King repeatedly instructed him to take charge as the Chief of Monks (Sengdu), but he firmly declined and would not accept. By nature he did not ride horses. Even when eminent nobles invited him to lecture and he encountered mud and rain, he would always lean on a staff, wear a bamboo hat, tread on straw sandals, and proceed to the assembly. From his youth he ate purely and did not touch rare delicacies. Later, when he contracted a seasonal illness, a medicine was compounded with pig fat; he refused and would not take it. At improper times, liquids and drinks were entirely cut off from his daily routine. Those inquiring after his illness looked up to see that his expression was cheerful and delighted, and his prostrations and recitations never ceased. Thinking he had slightly recovered, they were told by him, 'Now there is no place in me that does not ache, like a broken cart traveling on the road, always on the verge of collapsing. I am merely forcing myself to endure. I only regret that the venerable image I was constructing is not yet finished; I am about to depart.' He entrusted both monastics and laity to adorn and complete it on his behalf. Then he bathed, shaved his head, trimmed his nails, bowed in worship, and rinsed his mouth. Sitting in the Mahā Hall of Longyuan Monastery, he suddenly passed away at the age of fifty-four, on the third day of the seventh month in the seventh year of the Tianjian era. At that time, a resident of Chengdu named Ying Shifeng ceased breathing on account of illness, yet his chest remained warm. After five days he finally awoke, saying that he had been summoned to King Yama's place. He heard an order issued: 'Welcome Dharma Master Shao!' In an instant the Master arrived. The King descended from the dais, joined his palms, and made prostrations without saying a word, only drawing on a document the words 'Great Governance.' Shao then went outside and sat under a tree along an open road. He saw a youth holding a fresh kaṣāya in a lacquered willow winnowing basket, asking Shao to wear it. Several tens of monks came to welcome him; Feng recognized only the two Dhyāna Masters Zhi and Ci. With banners and flowers lining the path, they soared away into the air. Furthermore, on the night of his demise, a nun from Anpu Monastery, who had long been unconscious from illness, woke up later and said that she had escorted Dharma Master Shao and five hundred monks as they climbed a seven-jewel ladder to the lecture hall in the heavenly palace. Its ground was like crystal, the couches and mats splendidly arranged; there were also chowries and small tables, and lotus blossoms covered the floor. Shao took his seat and preached; after a short while he rose, sending those who had escorted him away and bidding them return. The dark signs and visionary perceptions attending his life and death were of this kind.
6.28
Shi Huijiao, whose clan lineage is unknown, was a native of Shangyu in Kuaiji. His learning encompassed both internal and external traditions, and he was broadly instructive in the sūtras and vinaya. He resided at Jiaxiang Monastery. In spring and summer he propagated the Dharma, and in autumn and winter he engaged in writing. He composed the Niepan yishu (Commentary on the Meaning of the Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra) in ten fascicles and a commentary on the Fanwang jing (Brahmajāla Sūtra), which circulated in the world. Moreover, considering that the Mingseng zhuan (Biographies of Famous Monks) compiled by Master [Bao]chang had many omissions and imbalances, he consequently established rubrics to broaden and complete it, composing the Gaoseng zhuan (Biographies of Eminent Monks) in fourteen fascicles. His preface states in brief: 'Previous authors, perhaps disliking excessive length, abridged their accounts, and so omitted and pruned much that was extraordinary about their noble conduct. If they claim that when a renouncer of the household resides in a realm as a guest of kings, he should not aloofly keep his distance or rise alone in lofty seclusion—whereas abandoning worldly glory and forsaking affection is fundamentally valued because it differs from the mundane—then if this is not discussed, what after all should be recorded?' It also states: 'Those works compiled since former eras are mostly titled Famous Monks. Yet fame is fundamentally merely an adjunct to reality. If one's true practice is concealed in obscurity, one is eminent without being famous; if one has little virtue but suits the times, one is famous without being eminent. Those famous without being eminent originally should not be recorded; those eminent without being famous are fully included in the present record. Therefore I omit the sound "famous" (ming) and replace it with the word "eminent" (gao).' When the biography was completed, it circulated throughout the country and truly served as a mirror and guide. Its language and principles were clear and concise, and it was esteemed by the world. Later it was not known where he ended his days. South of the Yangtze there frequently exists Pei Ziye's Gaoseng zhuan in one case of ten fascicles; its text is extremely terse and brief, and does not reach a thorough overview, so it is somewhat inferior.
6.29
Shi Daobian, whose lay surname was Tian, was a native of Fanyang. A separate record states that he entered his mother's womb wearing a patched robe and carrying a monastic staff, and was thus born. His natural disposition was detached and open, and his talents and arts stood exalted above the world. Although he was deaf, when he answered Emperor Xiaowen he never went against the emperor's intentions. Because of this, his glorious repute became prominently renowned, and those near and far revered him. Dissecting and resolving heterodoxy and orthodoxy, elucidating and freeing people from fixation and stagnation—these were his strengths. At first he resided at the Northern Terrace, and later, accompanying the southward migration, his Dao illuminated the Yellow and Luo river region. In the state of Wei there was a scripture entitled *Great Dharma Honoured King* in more than eighty fascicles, which circulated widely in the world. Bian took it in hand, read it, and recognised it as spurious; gathering copies together, he burnt them. Wishing to annotate many scriptures extensively so as to open up the Buddhist canon, he placed his brush upon the veranda rack, whereupon a bird picked it up in its beak and flew off. Seeing this unusual sign, he immediately laid aside this enterprise. He annotated only the *Vimalakīrti*, the *Śrīmālā*, and the *Vajracchedikā-prajñāpāramitā*; his *Articles on the Meaning of the Hīnayāna* in six fascicles, *Fifty Articles on the Meaning of the Mahāyāna*, as well as *Exposition on the Profound Illumination*, circulate in the world. He had two disciples, Tanyong and Wangming. Yong secluded himself to guard his integrity and hid on Mount Huanglong; he composed the *Discourse on Inquiring into Spirits* and the *Ritual Forms for Recluses*. Ming's literary style was heroic and vigorous; relying on his talent, he held the vulgar world in disdain. Bian beat him with a staff and banished him to Huanglong. At first he bore no grudge, and it is said that morning and evening he paid homage from afar.
6.30
Shi Daodeng, whose lay surname was Rui, was a native of Dongwan. He was alert and extraordinarily sharp, with an exceptional power of faith. Hearing that in Xuzhou there was a monk named Yao who was elegantly versed in sūtras and treatises, he carried his books to follow him, studying and synthesising the *Nirvāṇa*, the *Lotus*, and the *Śrīmālā*. Later he studied under Sengyuan, thoroughly mastering the *Tattvasiddhi-śāstra*. By the age of fifty, his renown stirred the Wei capital, and the northern regions revered him. Time and again letters came summoning and inviting him. Deng asked his fellow student Fadu, 'May I accept this invitation?' Du said, 'In this land, students of the Dao are like a forest, and the masters number in the hundreds. What age lacks a time to act or retire? What era lacks opening or obstruction? The sentient beings of the ten directions are all to be liberated; how could we limit our hopes solely to this place? You have been urged to go to the southern states—you should go! Like Huiyuan shaking his robes at Mount Lu, or Tandi breaking off his tracks on Mount Kunlun, or Liu Yimin of Pengcheng resigning from affairs to retire into leisure—these all pertained to their own respective regions. Why must you exhaust your life in empty imaginings of cliffside caves, remotely pursuing Chao [Fu] and Xu [You]? Even if you were to do so, in the end it would not depart from the disposition of the Hīnayāna. Could you wish that others precede you, while your Dao brings no benefit to the world? Adapting to each place to transform beings and serving as a bridge and ferry for creatures—would this not be joyful?' Deng thereupon accepted the invitation, and Du also accompanied him. When they arrived in Luoyang, rulers, ministers, monks, and nuns all treated them with guest-like respect. The ruler of Wei invited Deng and his brother to receive honourable feudal ranks by decree. Because their original surname was not refined, he changed Rui to Nai. The flourishing of his lectures continued without interruption through all four seasons. Before he could head for Mount Heng to put an end to floating rivalries, companions in study followed him one after another to his mountain abode, where discussions and instruction could not be avoided. He finally passed away at Baode Temple at the age of eighty-five, in the Jingming reign era of the Wei.
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- 續高僧傳 — 道宣, Classical Chinese