續高僧傳 6.43

6.43

Shi Zhenyu was surnamed Dong and was a native of Yidu in Qingzhou. He was born blind. His mother pitied him, and when he reached the age of seven, she taught him to play the pipa as a livelihood to avert destitution. Yet by nature he was intelligent and discerning; his hearing and comprehension were as if he had studied it before, and in less than ten days he thoroughly mastered the melodies. Later, when a grand assembly was gathered in the village for a vegetarian feast and lecture, his mother brought Yu to attend. Upon hearing it once, he joyfully grasped it and said: 'If I can always attend and listen, I will eventually become a dharmabhāṇaka, and there will be no worry of poverty or hunger.' Hearing this, his mother wished to fulfill this great aspiration; she then abandoned her domestic chores and dedicated herself to taking him to lectures. Regardless of wind, rain, or difficult passes, she ensured they never missed one. Yu grasped the broad purport of the texts, and his spirit held the vanguard. As he approached adulthood, his fame resounded through the seas and Mount Dai. Later, suffering the loss of his mother, he relinquished the robe and returned home, dwelling in a hut beside the grave. His grief and emaciation exceeded the rites; eating wild vegetables and keeping the vegetarian rule, he slept on an earthen clod and maintained his discipline, lodging in the open wilds for three years, for which the villagers held him in high esteem. Later, when the mourning period was complete, he returned to the Way and resumed his former vocation; he would lecture as soon as a text was read to him, without any doubt or hesitation, and students who sought to listen came to him one after another. During the Tianbao era of the Qi dynasty, Emperor Wenxuan greatly promoted lecture assemblies, and the talented and eminent scholars of the realm all gathered at Tianping. At that time, masters of doctrinal learning were as numerous as stars, vying with and eclipsing one another. Yu alone stood foremost; ascending the seat to deliver his exposition, there were none who did not acknowledge his authority. He exhausted the ultimate truths and plumbed the profound mysteries, revealing them with brilliant clarity, so that elders and predecessors prostrated and revered him. Consequently, monastics and laymen rushed to follow him, like drinking from an inexhaustible wine vat set out at the crossroads. If someone had conversed with him only once ten years earlier, he would recall the person's name and the meaning discussed simply upon hearing their voice. Such power of dhāraṇī was unmatched by anyone. His regular disciples and scholars numbered several hundreds and thousands; facing their movement and conduct merely with his ears, he thoroughly knew their hearts and dispositions, and his diligence in admonishing and encouraging them far surpassed other sages. Throughout his life, he made a vow wishing to end his life in Sukhāvatī. He constantly had an attendant read sūtras while he sat kneeling with palms joined to listen. Suddenly he heard that in the eastern direction there is a Buddha-land of the Pure Lotus, whose adorned world is not different from that one. He then deeply reflected: 'How could the pure lands of the Buddhas be limited to one direction? People all rush to the west, with none yearning for the east. With such an attached mind, it is hard to achieve dedication.' Thereupon he vowed to be born in the Lotus Buddha-land, striving earnestly morning and evening, vowing not to linger long [in this world]. Free from any illness, he then arranged his posthumous affairs, distributing among his disciples his robes, tables, walking sticks, chowries, and ruyi scepters, allocating his bequests and final instructions according to their rank. The assembly did not understand at first and were all astonished. Yu said: 'My vow aligns with my destiny; the world is not a place of joy. Help me chant the name of the Lotus Buddha so that I may reach the other shore.' After the poṣadha, he lay ill at the house of the Wang family north of the city of Ye. His mind was clear and his voice and appearance were as usual. The bhadantas who moved the capital all went to inquire after his illness. In the afternoon, they suddenly saw clouds of smoke intertwining and approaching from the east, with a wondrous fragrance entwining and filling the courtyard. In the sky there arose a sound like the resonance of chanting hymns, clear, resonant, and distinct. At that time, his feet gradually grew cold while his mouth continued reciting; in a short while, he passed away. Only ten days after his death did the fragrance cease. The great assembly grieved and looked up to him as if standing before the Twin Trees. Yu's brothers all wore mourning garments of hemp and, together with the disciples, took his body and buried it.