宋高僧傳 23.24

23.24

釋行明，俗姓魯，吳郡長洲人也。幼從師于本部，後遊方問道，然其耿介軒昂，嘯傲自放。初歷五臺、峨嵋，禮金色銀色二世界菩薩，皆隨心應現。由此登天台，陟羅浮，入衡嶽，遊梓潼。屬唐季湘之左右割裂，爭尋常而未息，靡有寧歲。於是棲祝融峯下，有終焉之志。止七寶臺，與玄泰布納為交契。其性之好惡，泰亦罔抗其輕重焉。甞謂道友曰：「吾不願隨僧崖焚之於木樓，不欲作屈原葬之於魚腹。終誓投軀，學薩埵太子超多劫而成聖果，可不務乎？」屢屢言之，都不之信。忽於林薄間，委身虓虎前，爭競食之，須臾肉盡。時泰公收其殘骼焚之，而獲舍利。乃擷華酌水，為文祭之。辭中明其勇猛，能捐內財，破慳法，成檀度，未捨、已捨、當捨三輪頓空，取大果若俯拾芥焉。

Śramaṇa Xingming, whose secular surname was Lu, was a native of Changzhou in Wu Commandery. In his youth he followed a master in his native region, and later traveled widely seeking the Way; he was resolute, lofty, carefree, and unrestrained. He first passed through Wutai and Emei, paying homage to the bodhisattvas of the Golden and Silver realms, who both manifested according to his mental focus. From there he climbed Tiantai, ascended Luofu, entered Mount Heng, and traveled to Zitong. During the late Tang, the regions east and west of the Xiang River were carved up, and petty disputes never ceased, leaving no peaceful years. Thereupon he settled beneath Zhurong Peak with the intent to end his days there. Staying at Qibaotai, he became close friends with the rag-robed Xuantai. As for what Xingming liked or disliked, Xuantai never opposed him, whether in matters great or small. He once said to his fellow practitioners: 'I do not wish to follow Sengya in burning myself upon a wooden tower, nor do I wish to become a Qu Yuan buried in the bellies of fish. In the end I vow to cast down my body, emulating Prince Sattva to transcend many kalpas and achieve the holy fruit—should one not strive for this?' He spoke of it repeatedly, but none believed him. Suddenly, amidst the brushwood of the forest, he surrendered his body before roaring tigers, who fought with one another to devour him; in an instant his flesh was gone. Master Tai then gathered his remaining bones, cremated them, and obtained śarīra. He then picked flowers, poured water, and composed an elegy to make an offering to him. The text clarified his valor, being able to donate his inner wealth, destroy the dharma of parsimony, and accomplish the perfection of giving (dāna-pāramitā), with the three wheels of what was not yet given, what was already given, and what was about to be given instantaneously emptied, taking the great fruit as easily as picking up a mustard seed.