神僧傳 9.9

9.9

釋普聞。唐僖宗第三子。生而吉祥。眉目風骨清真如畫。性不茄葷。僖宗鍾愛之。然以其無經世意。百計陶寫之終不可回。中和元年天下亂。僖宗幸蜀。親王宗室皆逃亡。聞斷髮逸遊謁石霜諸。諸與語歎異曰。汝乘願力而來乃生王家。脫身從我火中蓮也。聞夜入室問祖師別傳事。諸曰。待按山點頭即向汝道。聞因契悟。依止數歲。乃請遍遊名山。諸曰。逢乾即止。遇陳便住。於是遠遊。過昭武抵大乾。遙望山巔蔚然深秀。問父老曰。彼有居者否。老曰。有一陳嗣者。久隱其中。因悟師言。即撥草至山。陳嗣一見乃分坐同住。因乞菜種於嗣願求斗斛。嗣曰。豈有斗斛與之一合。遂入山墾種。後谷口之人相謂曰。前日僧入山經今不出。必為虎所啗。往視之見茅廬一所。行者數人指呼百諾。而重岡複嶺菜已青矣。蓋畊種菜者。乃山神所投。行者乃虎也。陳嗣覺師之勝乃曰。吾居此每苦惡獸毒蟲之多。公來皆屏跡。道德非吾所及。吾種之緣其屬公乎。既而道德播聞緇徒雲集。遂成巨剎。忽有老人跪請曰。我乃龍也。家于此山以行雨。不職上天有罰當死。願賜救護。師曰。汝得罪上帝我何能致力。雖然汝可易形來。俄化為小蛇。師以錫杖引入淨瓶。良久風雷挾坐榻山嶽搖振。師宴坐達旦。天宇澄霽蛇自瓶出。有頃復為老人形而謝曰。若非藉師法力則血肉腥穢此地矣。無以報德。山中無水何以安眾。當以水延師道場也。即於峻谷窮源刮成石穴湧泉一泓。始雖涓涓終焉衍溢。遂成一湖。今在半山龍湖之名。蓋始於此。沍寒不氷大旱不竭。其流四出灌溉田數百頃。邦人神之建祠其上。歲時享祀焉。今遇上元乃師誕辰。龍必朝謝有祥雲瑞氣之應。院之右十五里有隋義寧歐陽太守之廟。即今福善王也。廟食至是歷二百七十餘載。其神極靈禍福此邦。民敬畏之牲牢享祭無虛日。師見而閔焉。一日杖策之祠下。說偈見意。復與之約曰。能食素持不殺戒乃可為隣。是夕里之父老夢神云。我今受禪師戒不復血食。祭我當如比丘飯足矣。如是易血食以齋羞。至今遵之。神人相安。神顯靈異。護持此山。或云。師嘗與神以道力角勝負。廟傍有松巨幹參天。師舉手抝下拂地三匝。而神實拂其二。遂屈而從之。一日集徒曰。吾將他適。院事付聰教二門人。乃說偈曰。我逃世難來出家。宗師指示箇歇處。住山聚眾三十年。對人不欲輕分付。今日分明說以君。我斂目時齊聽取。寺眾凄然堅請且為佛法住世。師曰。汝等豈不知達磨隻履西歸普化全身脫去之旨耶。何以去來生滅視吾也。既而跨虎凌晨抵信州應供。到彼僧房集。供罷就長者更覓一分與行者。長者謂師獨行不諾所請。遂覓水一盂。噀杖為虎高馭而去。至開元寺。而龍湖寺僧至彼追之。乃祝之曰。吾不復歸山中。已有聰禪師矣。故龍湖無開山祖師之塔。惟有跨虎菴基。為古今之證。又有禪師照水自寫真像。至今存焉。勅諡圓覺禪師。凡有所禱其應如響。而院前有師所坐之杉。至今間生異花。

Puwen

Śramaṇa Puwen was the third son of Emperor Xizong of the Tang. He was born with auspicious omens, and his features, bearing, and temperament were pure, authentic, and as if painted. By nature, he did not eat meat or pungent plants. Xizong doted on him, but because he had no interest in managing worldly affairs, despite various attempts to divert and shape him, his mind ultimately could not be turned back. In the first year of the Zhonghe era, the world fell into chaos, and Xizong took refuge in Shu; the princes and imperial clan all fled. Puwen shaved his hair, wandered at ease, and called upon Shishuang Zhu. Zhu spoke with him and sighed in wonder, saying, 'You came borne by the power of vows, and so were born into the royal house. Now, escaping from it to follow me, you are a lotus in fire.' At night, Puwen entered the master's room and asked about the Patriarch's separate transmission. Zhu said, 'Wait until Mount An nods its head, and then I will tell you.' Through this, Puwen was awakened. After relying upon and dwelling with him for several years, he requested permission to wander widely through famous mountains. Zhu said, 'When you meet Qian, stop; when you encounter Chen, abide.' Thereupon he traveled afar, passed through Zhaowu, and arrived at Daqian. Gazing from afar at the mountain summit, dense, luxuriant, and profound, he asked the village elders, 'Is there anyone living there?' An elder said, 'There is one Chen Si who has long lived in concealment within it.' Realizing the master's words, he parted the grasses and reached the mountain. As soon as Chen Si saw him, he shared his seat and lived together with him. Thereupon [Puwen] begged vegetable seeds from Si, requesting a bushel or peck. Si said, 'How could there be a bushel or peck?' and gave him a single handful. He then entered the mountain to clear the land and plant. Later, the people at the mouth of the valley said to one another, 'The monk who entered the mountain the other day has not come out to this day; he must have been devoured by tigers.' Going to look, they saw a thatched hut and several postulants answering his orders with total obedience, while upon the layered ridges and peaks, the vegetables were already green. As it turned out, those who ploughed and planted the vegetables were spirits sent by the mountain deity, and the postulants were tigers. Sensing the master's superior virtue, Chen Si said, 'While living here, I was constantly troubled by the abundance of ferocious beasts and poisonous insects. Since you came, they have all vanished without a trace. Your moral power is beyond my reach. The karmic conditions for planting must belong to you!' Afterward, as his moral power became widely known, monks gathered like clouds, and it became a great monastery. Suddenly, an old man knelt and petitioned, saying, 'I am a dragon. My home is in this mountain, and it is my task to make rain. Because I failed in my duties, Heaven has penalized me, and I am to die. I pray you grant me relief and protection.' The master said, 'You have offended the High Sovereign; how can I exert my strength? Nevertheless, you may change your form and come.' In an instant, he transformed into a small snake. The master used his ring-staff to guide it into his pure water bottle. Before long, wind and thunder shook the seat, and the mountain peaks trembled. The master sat in serene meditation until dawn. The heavens cleared and became bright, and the snake emerged from the bottle. After a moment, it resumed the form of the old man, bowed, and thanked him, saying, 'Had it not been for the master's Dharma power, my blood and flesh would have defiled this place with rank stench. I have nothing with which to repay your virtue. If there is no water in the mountains, how can the assembly be settled? I shall supply water to sustain the master's place of practice.' Thereupon, at the deepest source of a steep valley, he scraped open a stone cavity, and a pool of spring water welled up. Though it was a mere trickle at first, it finally overflowed and formed a lake. The name 'Dragon Lake' halfway up the mountain began from this. In freezing cold it does not freeze; in severe drought it does not dry up. Its streams flow out in all four directions, irrigating several hundred qing of fields. The people of the prefecture regarded it as divine and built a shrine above it, offering sacrifices throughout the year. Nowadays, whenever the Upper Primordial Festival arrives—it being the master's birthday—the dragon invariably comes to pay homage and express gratitude, accompanied by auspicious clouds and propitious vapors. Fifteen li to the right of the monastery, there was the shrine of Governor Ouyang of the Yining era of the Sui, who is now King Fushan. Offerings at this shrine had by then lasted for over two hundred and seventy years. Its spirit was extremely numinous, bringing fortune and misfortune to this prefecture. The people revered and feared it, and offerings of slaughtered livestock were made without a single day's lapse. Seeing this, the master took pity. One day, leaning on his staff, he went to the shrine, spoke a gāthā to reveal his intent, and made a covenant with it, saying, 'Only if you can eat pure vegetarian food and maintain the precept against killing can we be neighbors.' That evening, the elders of the neighborhood dreamed that the spirit said, 'I have now received the precepts from the Chan Master and will no longer consume blood offerings. Sacrificing to me should be like offering meals to a bhikṣu, and that will suffice.' Thus blood offerings were replaced with vegetarian foods, which has been followed to this day. Spirits and humans were at peace with one another. The spirit manifested divine wonders to protect and maintain this mountain. Some say the master once competed with the spirit in spiritual power: beside the shrine was a pine tree whose massive trunk touched the sky; the master raised his hand and bent it down to brush the ground three times, but the spirit could only brush it twice, and thus submitted and followed him. One day, he gathered his disciples and said, 'I am going elsewhere. I entrust the affairs of the monastery to my two disciples, Cong and Jiao.' Then he spoke a gāthā, saying: / 'Fleeing the worldly troubles, I came to renounce household life; / The ancestral master pointed out a resting place. / Dwelling in the mountain and gathering an assembly for thirty years, / Before others, I did not wish to pass it on lightly. / Today, I explain it clearly to you all: / When I close my eyes, listen all together!' / The assembly of the temple was sorrowful and firmly pleaded that he remain in the world for the sake of the Buddhadharma. The master said, 'Do you not know the meaning of Bodhidharma's single shoe returning west, and Puhua's leaving completely shed of his body? Why do you regard me with notions of coming and going, arising and ceasing?' Afterward, striding upon a tiger at dawn, he arrived at Xinzhou to receive an offering. When he arrived there, the monks' quarters were crowded. When the meal was finished, he approached the patron to ask for another portion for his postulant. The patron, thinking the master was traveling alone, did not grant his request. [Puwen] thereupon asked for a bowl of water, sprayed it upon his staff, turned it into a tiger, mounted it high, and rode away. He went to Kaiyuan Monastery, and when the monks of Longhu Monastery went there pursuing him, he instructed them, saying, 'I will not return to the mountain; there is already Chan Master Cong.' Therefore, at Longhu there is no pagoda for the founding patriarch, but only the foundation of the Striding Tiger Hermitage, serving as evidence from antiquity to the present. There is also a portrait that the Chan Master drew of himself by looking into water, which still survives today. He was imperially bestowed the posthumous title 'Chan Master Yuangue'. Whenever prayers are offered to him, the response is like an echo. And in front of the courtyard, the cedar tree where the master sat still occasionally bears strange flowers.