大明高僧傳 7.14

7.14

Shi Pujiao was a son of the Bi family of Wanling in the prefecture. From childhood he was exceptionally clever and stood out from his peers, untouched by worldly impurities. Disliking noise and delighting in cleanliness, he was just like a patch-robed monk. Before reaching adulthood he was ordained; for five summer retreats he was without flaw. He first visited Nanming to listen to and study Tiantai teachings. Once, he performed a repentance ritual for a donor. Someone asked, “Is the transgression the master is repenting a repentance for yourself or a repentance for another? If you say it is repenting for yourself, whence comes the nature of transgression? If it is repenting for another, since the other is not you, how can you perform repentance for them?” Pujiao was at a loss and could not answer. Deeply ashamed, he changed his clothes and went directly to Letan. Barely had his feet crossed the threshold when Letan scolded and shouted at him. When Pujiao intended to submit a question, Letan dragged his staff to drive him away. One day, Letan suddenly summoned Pujiao to the abbot’s quarters and said, “I have an ancient gongan that I wish to deliberate with you.” Pujiao intended to speak, but Letan gave a shout. Pujiao had a sudden breakthrough of awakening, looked around, and laughed aloud. Letan stepped down from his rope chair, took his hand, and said, “Do you understand the Buddhadharma?” Pujiao gave a shout and pushed him away. Letan also laughed aloud. From then on, his fame spread in all directions, and students took him as their model. Later, he returned to his native place and dwelt at Tiantong, shutting his gates and sweeping away tracks for eight years. The monastery happened to have a vacant seat, and the prefectural officials ordered him to open the Dharma. Fearing he would flee, they sent officers to wait on the road, so he could not refuse. Ascending the hall, he said, “Bah! Yellow-faced old one, you entrusted the Buddhadharma to kings and ministers! A dispassionate traveler beneath the forest is hounded to death by official duty! Is there anyone with an understanding mind who can exempt me from this? If not, I cannot avoid making the best of a bad job.” Whenever he saw a monk approach, he would certainly scold, “Before you even shouldered your staff, I had already spoken for you! And tell me, what did I say? Beckoning with the hand, washing the bowl, picking up the fan, drawing the bow. Zhaozhou’s cypress tree and Lingyuan seeing the peach blossoms—set them aside for a moment! This mountain monk has no such idle lips to entangle in vines with you. Why don’t you just cease and desist?” Suddenly, he took up his staff and drove them away. On the twentieth day of the third month of the sixth year of the Xuanhe era, he bathed, ascended the seat, and spoke a verse:

“The precious staff strikes empty space, spring everywhere;
The message therein especially completes and knits together.
Last night the wind stirred, the cold cliff chilly;
Startling the mud ox to plow the white clouds.”

Having spoken, he passed away peacefully and entered quiescence. His worldly age was seventy-seven, and his dharma age was fifty-eight. A stupa was built on his mountain.