神僧傳 9

English (machine translation) 9

Language: English

The monk Jingangxian was a man of the Western Regions. He dwelt at Xiashan Monastery in Qingyuan. He was skilled in Sanskrit incantations, clicking his tongue and shaking his staff to chant spells over things, and there was nothing that did not respond. He excelled at imprisoning ghosts and specters, binding goblins and hornless dragons; with a single shake of his pewter staff, he would summon thunder that instantly rumbled. That day at Xiashan Monastery, a man named Li Pu took an axe to cut down a gigantic tree and hollow it out for a boat. Suddenly climbing the mountain, he saw a hole in a flat boulder and beheld a giant spider whose legs spread over a zhang wide. Four snakes held herbs in their mouths to plug the hole and departed. Soon he heard violent and fierce roaring sounds amid the woods. The workman, terrified, climbed a tree to observe. Indeed, he saw a two-headed viper several tens of zhang in length, coiled and fuming with rage, encircling the spider's hole and turning its heads east and west. Soon the western head sprang up and inhaled the herbs plugging the hole into a ball, which flew out completely exposed and cleared away. Then the eastern head turned back, its eyes opened wide and its mouth gaping wide, and inhaled the spider. The spider dashed out, seized the edge of the hole with its legs, and bent its venom upward; glowing red like fire, it scorched the viper's throat and destroyed its eyes. The viper fell stunned, but soon revived; raising its head, it inhaled again. The spider disappeared, and its venom struck the viper even further. The viper then collapsed upon the stone and died. The spider leapt out, climbed onto the viper's belly to chew it, broke its teeth, and from both ends produced silk to encase it, then leapt out and departed into the hole. Pu was astonished and returned to Xiashan Monastery to tell Jingangxian. Xian then requested Pu to verify the hole, and, shaking his ringed staff, he chanted a spell. The spider immediately emerged before the monk, appearing as if listening devoutly. When he extended his staff and touched it, the spider died beside the hole. That night, the monk saw an old man in a dream holding a bolt of silk who stepped forward and said, "I am that spider; I can also weave." Bowing to the monk, he said, "I wish to serve as a reliance for the field of merit." When he finished speaking, he disappeared. When the monk awoke, the cloth was already at his side; its exquisite and wondrous craftsmanship was something that could not be made by the cocoon silk of the worldly realm. The monk made it into a robe, which dust and grime could not touch. Several years later, the monk wished to go to Panyu to board a ship and return to Tianzhu. By the Golden Lock Pool at Xiashan, he shook his staff, shouted loudly, and cast a spell upon the water. In a moment the water parted, revealing the bottom. Opening his washing bottle, there was a loach about three inches long that leapt into the bottle. He said to the monks, "This is a dragon. When I reach the sea gate, I will boil it with medicine into an ointment and rub my feet with it, so that crossing the sea will be like treading on level ground." That night, an old man in white, carrying a dual-chambered flask, came to the monastery. A servant named Chuanjing said, "Knowing that Jingangxian loves wine, this flask has fine brew on one side and poisoned brew on the other. This flask was once used by Emperor Hui of Jin to poison General Niu. Now I offer you one hundred ounces of gold to take this wine and poison that monk. For no reason, that monk has seized my son wishing to make him into ointment; my hatred for him cuts to the marrow of my bones, but I have no other means. What can I do?" Chuanjing gladly accepted the gold and the wine, learned the method of turning the flask, and went to Jingangxian. Just as Xian was raising the cup to his mouth, a child of several years suddenly leapt out, approached his hand, and overturned it, saying, "The wine was brought by the dragon to poison you, Master!" The monk was greatly shocked and interrogated Chuanjing; Chuanjing dared not conceal it. The monk then asked the child, "Who are you to rescue me?" The child said, "I was the spider of former days. I have now abandoned that evil karma and have been reborn as a human for seven years. My spirit is somewhat more clairvoyant than that of ordinary people; knowing that Master was in danger, I flew my spirit here to offer rescue." Having finished speaking, he vanished. The monks, hearing this, bowed together to Jingangxian and begged him to release the dragon's child. Having no choice, the monk let it go. Later, Xian indeed boarded a ship and returned to Tianzhu.

9.3

Huaixin

9.4

Śramaṇa Huaixin lived in Guangling, and there were no other miraculous traces of him. In the third year of the Huichang era, the guihai year, Emperor Wuzong was influenced by Zhao Guizhen to disparage and destroy the Buddhist order, intending to annihilate the teachings. Liu Yinzhi, a man of letters from Huainan, was traveling casually in Siming. On a night when his boat was anchored on his journey, he dreamt as if floating on the sea. Looking back, he saw a pagoda crossing to the east; it was the pagoda of Xiling Monastery in Huainan. The height and majesty of this pagoda was only slightly less than Empress Dowager Hu's Yongning Pagoda. On the third level of the pagoda, he saw Xin leaning against the balustrade, conversing with Yinzhi, and saying, "I am temporarily escorting the pagoda across the Eastern Sea, and will return in ten days." A few days later, Yinzhi returned to Yangzhou and immediately went to visit Xin. Xin said, "Do you remember when we met upon the sea?" Yinzhi was clearly awakened to it. A few days later, heavenly fire burned the pagoda down completely, while white rain poured down heavily; an adjacent thatched hall suffered no damage at all. Viewed from this, that people of the Eastern Sea saw the Yongning Pagoda was not mistaken.

9.5

Zhiguang

9.6

Śramaṇa Zhiguang, whose secular surname was Cui, was of unknown origin. His vase of virtue was originally intact, and his roots in the Way were exceptionally firm. His transforming influence spread in Hongya, where he displayed especially wondrous traces. Whenever persons suffering from any of the hundred illnesses came to him, he would take a piece of bamboo as a staff and point it at the source of their pain, or strike it once, and none failed to be cured on the spot. Those who were bedridden arose, and those who were lame ran. Thereafter, his divine efficacy became all the more pronounced. Sometimes, when encountering sick people, with a single slap and a single shout, they all stood up. Or he would have paper spirit money burned and food and drink distributed. Or when encountering those in extreme pain and distress, he would twist paper, dip it in water, and stick it [upon them], and they were also cured. He once walked along the Jiangdu Pool, recited mantras over food, and fed it to the fish. Overnight, those fish that were two spans or more in length—tens of thousands of them—all floated to the water's surface and died. This was merely following the example of Jalavāhana saving the ten thousand fish so that they were reborn in the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven. From the beginning of the Xiantong era, he reached Mount Jiuzuo. Suddenly, he encountered an enormous python that came wishing to swallow the master. The master's ring-staff flew up of itself and propped open its jaws. The master entered its mouth, sat cross-legged, and entered samādhi. A spirit came to confess its fault, but the master did not look back at it. When he emerged from samādhi, the python had turned to stone. Following this, great thunder and rain arose, sand welled up to form land, and the mountain spirit moved the mountain, the eight directions shading and reflecting one another. In the third year of the Qianfu era, he manifested his passing into quiescence.

9.7

Congjian

9.8

Śramaṇa Congjian, whose secular surname was Zhang, was a native of Nanyang. His family moved to Guangling and became settled residents there. He was eight spans tall, with striking and extraordinary facial features. Past the prime of life, he suddenly had an awakening to the true principle; he thereupon renounced his wife and children to follow the tonsure and shaving of his head. Thereupon he investigated the essentials of chan contemplation, and his mental sphere became clear and distinct. In not more than ten years, seniors and venerable elders all deferentially submitted to him. When he came to the eastern capital, Luoyang, he took up residence at Jing'ai Monastery. As both his years and virtue matured, he became an authority revered by both Buddhist monastics and Daoists. Whenever he went to receive meal offerings, he would always eat facing the Venerable Piṇḍola. Such was the reverence and respect shown to him by humans and devas. When Emperor Wuzong of the Tang succeeded to the throne and changed the reign title to Huichang, he was fond of the ceremonies of riding the phoenix and driving the crane, and he looked down upon the teaching of black robes and subduing dragons. He thereupon issued an edict to the commanderies and principalities to demolish monasteries and pagodas, ordering the śramaṇas to return to lay life. At first, Master Congjian wore a black cap and hempen clothes, concealing himself at Huangfu Mei's Hot Springs villa. On the ridge behind, tall trees stood crowded and lush, and a massive boulder was as flat as a whetstone. During summer days, Master Congjian would often enter quiescence there, or mend patchwork robes. Suddenly one day, lowering clouds and driving rain arrived, and lightning struck beside the rock. The various brethren ran into the woods, but Master Congjian sat cross-legged with equanimity, as if he had heard nothing. When the brethren questioned him, he slowly said, 'It is only a wicked brute.' In the beginning of the Dazhong era, Emperor Xuanzong revived the Inner Teaching. Master Congjian returned to his old dwelling in the Eastern Capital. His son came from Guangling to visit him, and happened to meet Congjian at the courtyard gate. His dignified appearance was so awe-inspiring and solemn that he was no longer recognizable. [The son] bowed and asked where Congjian lived. Master Congjian pointed and said, 'Near the east end.' After his son left, he closed his door and did not come out. Such was his severance of the nets of affection. In the fifth month of the summer of the bingxu year of the Xiantong era, he suddenly made visits everywhere to the homes of the faithful he had frequented, and said to them all, 'Establish wholesome fields of merit. At the beginning of autumn, this poor monk must take a distant journey; hence I come to bid farewell.' On the first day of the seventh autumn month, at dawn, he washed his hands, burned incense, and recollected the Tathāgata Maitreya. Then he lay down on his right side, summoned disciples such as Xuanzhang, and admonished them, saying, 'A human life is difficult to obtain; the evil realms are easy to fall into. One can only take refuge in the Śākya Honoured One and vigorously refine one's pure conduct. We shall meet again at the Dragon Flower Assembly. Life has its end, and I part with you for a short while.' On that day, without illness, he suddenly passed away. His age was more than eighty. Xuanzhang and the others respectfully carried out his bequeathed instructions and took the corpse outside the Jianchun Gate into the Śītavana charnel ground to give it as an offering to the birds and beasts. Three days later, they looked at it again: his face, though starved, was as if alive, and no creature dared approach. They then covered it with cakes and pastries. Overnight, there were tracks of wolves and foxes; they had only eaten the cakes and pastries, while his plump flesh remained completely intact. They then cremated him in accordance with the Indian ritual. After gathering the remaining ashes, they raised a white pagoda by the roadside, and in spring and autumn offered incense and lamps in memorial to him.

9.9

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.

9.10

Huaijun

9.11

Śramaṇa Huaijun was of unknown origin. He was foolish and eccentric, yet he had foreknowledge of future events, his predictions proving true as if by divine power. During the Qianning era, for no apparent reason, he arrived in Badong. He was skilled in cursive calligraphy, his brushwork being natural and spontaneous. Sometimes on the walls of monasteries, Daoist abbeys, inns, and shops, he would write Buddhist scriptures, Daoist teachings, and even song lyrics and vulgar vernacular verses; nothing failed to flow from the tip of his brush. When someone spoke to him, he would only answer with 'a' and 'wei'. The local people treated him as a divine sage. Prefect Yu was distressed by his deluding the masses, threw him into prison, and interrogated him. [Huaijun] then submitted an official petition in the form of a poem. The meaning of its lines pointed to the west and east of the Min River, yet the phrasing was ornate and beautiful. The prefect marveled at it and released him. When he further examined its meaning, he suspected [the monk] was in the midst of the sea, and wondered whether he belonged to the lineage of Master Beidu. When travelers passed by, they would always moor their boats and pay him a visit, seeking to ascertain the auspiciousness or misfortune of traveling through the upper and lower Gorges, or the profit and loss in trade and commercial goods. When travelers earnestly prayed, he would merely write three to five lines, never speaking clearly, yet after the events, they were mostly verified. At that time, the senior officer of Jingnan, Zhou Chongbin, visited him. [Huaijun] wrote and left him [the words]: 'Handed over to the imperial capital for your interrogation.' Later, when entering to present tribute, due to the imperial army's southern expedition, [Zhou] was arrested by the Southern Office and ultimately executed. The military attendant Sun Daoneng visited him, and he wrote characters giving them to 'Zhulin Monastery'. That year, [Sun] passed away, and his burial was arranged at the old foundation of Zhulin Monastery. When Huangfu Xuan was prefect, [Huaijun] drew a person bearing a cangue with a woman beside him; soon after, [Huangfu] married a girl from a common family, suffered a lawsuit, and was imprisoned and brought to the prefecture. There was a certain Mu Zhaosi, who was of Persian descent. In his youth, he was fond of medical arts; accompanying his father, he went to visit him. [Huaijun] drew a Daoist riding the clouds holding a calabash gourd, and wrote: 'Commander Gao sends an official communication to the prefecture to promote Student Mu.' Later, because Mu's medical skills were effective, King Gaoconghui of Nanping ordered him to abandon Daoism and pursue Confucianism, temporarily appointing him to oversee the prefectural administration. When it happened that the imperial army attacked Jingzhou, Jun composed a poem and presented it to the King of Nanping, saying: / 'The horse's head gradually enters the road to Yangzhou; / Your relatives ought to wash their eyes and watch!' / That year, the Gao clan pledged allegiance to Huaihai, and the heavy siege was lifted. Other extraordinary traces of his were mostly of this kind. One day, he wrote on a plantain leaf in the courtyard: 'Today I repay my debt of karma; the prefecture and county need not investigate further.' Many passersby saw it but paid it no heed. Suddenly he was murdered by someone, his head and body severed in different places. The prefect cremated him.

9.12

Master Xinqi

9.13

Master Xinqi was a man of Shan; Xin was his surname. As a child he was exceptionally prudent and solemn, never engaging in frivolous play. His parents both marvelled at him and cherished him. At the age of ten he loved the teachings of the Buddha and read Buddhist scriptures daily. He was naturally able to distinguish Sanskrit sounds without a master's instruction. Later, his father became governor of the Shan commandery. Before this, south of the commandery were seven brick kilns. When his father died, Xinqi was overwhelmed with grief. One day, becoming crazed, he fled. The family servants tracked his whereabouts to the south of the commandery and saw Xinqi sitting upright inside a brick kiln, his body radiating a wondrous light, brilliant as refined gold. The servants were astonished. Going to the next kiln, they saw another Xinqi in it. Passing through all seven kilns, each contained a Xinqi inside. From this, the people of Shan called him Master Xinqi.

9.14

Master Jian

9.15

Chan Master Yunju Daojian had long entered the room of the former Yunju and served as the First Seat in the hall. When the former Yunju was about to pass away, the prior asked who was worthy of succeeding him in the south. Yunju said: "Jian in the hall." The prior took this to mean that he should choose someone qualified. All said: "The Second Seat would do. Let us prepare the protocol to invite [the First Seat]. If the First Seat modestly declines, we shall insist on the Second Seat." Having secretly received the transmission, Master [Jian] did not decline in the least; he immediately took his own monastic requisites, entered the abbot's quarters, gathered the assembly, and expounded the Dharma. The prior and others were displeased that their original intent was thwarted, and they refused to comply with the rules. Discerning their feelings, the Master quietly left. That night, the tree deity of Anle wailed and wept. At dawn, the prior and the great assembly rushed to Maizhuang, repented their fault with bitter sorrow, and begged him to return to the monastery. In mid-air, the assembly heard continuous voices shouting: "The Reverend is coming!"

9.16

Qici

9.17

Śramaṇa Qici's family name and origin are unknown; some say he was from Siming. In appearance he was corpulent and scruffy, with a furrowed brow and a potbelly. His speech was erratic, and he slept wherever he lay. He always carried a cloth sack on a staff into markets and bazaars. Seeing goods, he would beg for them, and whether fermented sauces, fish, or dried meat, as soon as it touched his mouth, he would put a little into his sack. He was called the Cloth Sack Master, Changtingzi. He once lay down in the snow, yet there was no snow on his body, at which people marvelled. Also, whenever he begged a sip of something from someone, goods in that shop would sell out. Inside his sack were all manner of personal requisites. When revealing good or bad fortune to people, he always manifested omens: in severe drought he would drag high-toothed wooden clogs and sleep on a market bridge with knees drawn up; in heavy rains he would wear wet straw sandals. By this people tested and knew [the weather]. In the Tianfu era he passed away in Fengchuan township. The local people buried him together. Later, in other prefectures, people saw this monk again, walking along, still carrying a cloth sack. Between the Jiang and Zhe regions, many painted his portrait.

9.18

Master Azu

9.19

Master Azu's origins are unknown. His physical appearance was foolish and murky, his spirit lacking cleverness. Yet whenever he spoke, there was nothing he did not foreknow. Though he had no fixed residence, he mostly lodged in Wenxiang. People bustled back and forth, vying for the road to pay him homage; gifts piled like mountains, yet he never looked at them. When people were troubled or sick, those who obtained his guidance found its efficacy miraculous and swift. At that time in Shanzhou there was a wealthy man named Zhang Zhen whose fortune ran into the tens of millions. He had only one son, about seventeen years old, who was born foolish and dull: his hands and feet were crippled, his speech was unintelligible, and he craved only food and drink, his mouth like a mountain gorge. His parents doted on him, attending to him with all their might, inviting doctors and seeking medicine without shrinking from thousands of leagues. After more than ten years, the family estate was almost exhausted. Someone said to them: "Azu is a sage, a living Buddha in this world. Why not turn to him and pray, hoping for a cure?" Zhen and his wife went to Wenxiang, kowtowed, wiped away their tears, and begged for his deliverance. After a long while, Azu said to Zhen: "Your karmic enmity has not yet dissipated; ten more years are still required. Pitying your sincere devotion, I will dispel it for you." He then had them choose a day to hold a vegetarian feast by the river, summoning a great crowd to witness the deliverance together, and ordered them to bring the son along to the bodhimanda. The crowd thought there would be divine transformations, and onlookers stood as thick as a wall. While they were craning their necks, Azu pointed to three or four strong men to seize and drag the son and throw him into the river. Zhen and all the attendees could not fathom his intent. Azu looked back and said to Zhen: "The disaster has been eliminated for you." After a long time, the son suddenly stood on the water's surface several tens of paces downriver, pointed with his fingers, and said to his parents: "I was your karmic enemy from former lives. Relying on meeting this holy one, the bond has been swiftly unraveled. If not for this, there would have been no end to it!" Standing tall, he called out loudly, not foolish in the least. In a moment he sank into the water, and none knew where he went.

9.20

Weijing

9.21

Śramaṇa Weijing was a man of Wumen. Around the age of thirty he entered Guoning Monastery, making the rounds of the monks' quarters and calling out: "If anyone wants someone to renounce household life, please keep me!" Going down to the Canon Hall, he saw Huizheng, an ācārya and great monk of the two assemblies. He bowed, laid bare his sincerity, and asked to be allowed to serve him. Master Zheng granted his request and shaved his head. He took full ordination on Mount Tiantai. He once walked under the fading stars to attend the morning congee at Zhanlin Monastery, and many tigers and leopards followed him to the temple gate. The tigers squatted on the ground as if waiting; when Jing came out, they followed him again. At daybreak, huge tracks were abundant. Jing, fearing people would find out, erased the tiger tracks with a hoe. Soon after, he suffered from a back ulcer and was asleep in exhaustion when a poison-bird dropped dung onto the sore; before long it was completely healed. Also, anticipating snow and ice, he prepared half a dou of non-glutinous rice. Every day he boiled and ate it in a small pan together with vegetables, keeping the rice in an earthen cellar. Long past the expected period, the rice used remained full and never diminished. Jing then struck it down, saying: "For me to be favored by this thing is contrary to principle." When he died, he was over seventy years old.

9.22

The Monk of Qizhou

9.23

When Shi Lun was in Qizhou, he went out hunting. Arriving at the border of a county, he rested in an araṇya. Detecting an extraordinary fragrance of peaches, he inquired of the monk there. The monk had no time to hide them and said that someone had recently given him two peaches as dāna. Thereupon he took them out from under the sutra desk and presented them to Lun; they were as big as rice bowls. Lun, who was hungry at the time, ate them all; their pits were as large as chicken eggs. Lun then questioned him about their origin. The monk smiled and said: "Just now I spoke falsely. These peaches are more than ten leagues from here, along a perilous path. While wandering on foot, this poor monk happened to see them, and sensing they were extraordinary, plucked a few." Lun said: "Please dismiss the mounted retinue; I will go together with the Reverend." Having no choice, the monk guided Lun out towards the north. Going through the wild briars for about five leagues, they reached a body of water. The monk said: "I fear the Vice Censor-in-chief cannot cross this." With firm determination, Lun stripped his clothes as instructed by the monk, was carried by him, floated across, and climbed onto the bank. Proceeding northwest, they waded across two more waters, climbed mountains and crossed ravines for several leagues, until they arrived at a place with cascading waterfalls and bizarre boulders—not a realm of mortals. There were hundreds of peach trees whose branches swept the ground, two or three feet high, their fragrance striking the nose. Lun and the monk each ate a single peach from the stem, and their bellies were filled. Lun untied his clothes, intending to pack as many as he could. The monk said: "This may be a divine realm; you must not take many. This poor monk once heard an elder say that in the past someone also reached here, pocketed five or six of them, lost his way, and could not get out." Lun also suspected that the monk was no ordinary man; he took two fruits and returned. The monk strictly admonished Lun not to speak of it. When Lun reached the prefecture, he sent someone to invite the monk, but the monk had already departed.

9.24

The Clam Monk

9.25

The Clam Monk of Jingzhao had quite extraordinary deeds and no fixed abode. Since having his mind sealed at Dongshan, he mingled with the commoners in Minchuan. He kept no monastic requisites and followed no monastic rules. In winter and summer he wore a single patch-robe. Day after day he went along the riverbanks, gathering shrimp and clams to fill his stomach. At night he slept among the paper money in the White Horse Shrine on Mount Dongshan. The local residents simply called him the Clam Monk. Chan Master Huayan Jing, hearing of him and wishing to determine whether he was genuine or false, secretly hid beforehand among the paper money. Late at night the Master returned. Jing grabbed hold of him and said: "What is the meaning of the Ancestral Master's coming from the West?" The Master immediately replied: "The wine platters before the spirits." Jing released his grip and said: "Truly, you and I share the same root!" Later, when Jing answered Emperor Zhuangzong's summons to enter Chang'an, the Master had already arrived ahead of him. Every day he sang and clapped his own rhythm, or feigned madness; coming and going in mud and snow, he left no footprints. After that, no one knew where he went.

9.26

The Ancient Buddha Koubing

9.27

The Ancient Buddha Koubing Zaoguang first studied under Xuefeng. Xuefeng said: "In days to come, you will certainly be a teacher of kings." Later he returned from Ehu to Wenling, built a hermitage, and then stayed at General Rock. Two tigers attended at his side, and a divine being offered him land to make Ruiyan Cloister. Students vied to gather there. He once said to the assembly: "The cultivation of the ancient sages required relying on bitter discipline. Now in summer I wear paper clothes, and in winter I break ice to bathe." Therefore the people of the world called him the Ancient Buddha Koubing (Breaking Ice). Later he resided at Lingyao. In the third year of Tiancheng, answering the summons of the King of Min, he was invited to stay in the inner palace. Bowing in reverence, [the King] said: "I thank the Master for descending from afar." When tea was presented, the Master held up the tea bag and said: "Does the Great King understand?" [The King] said: "I do not understand." [The Master] said: "The King of Men and the King of Dharma each illuminate themselves." He remained for ten days and took his leave on grounds of illness. On the second day of the twelfth month, he bathed, ascended the hall, announced his departure to the assembly, and passed away. The King, monastics, and laypeople prepared fragrant wood for the cremation (jhapita). Auspicious radiance filled the mountain. His relics were collected in a stupa in the main chamber at Ruiyan. He was posthumously named Chan Master Miaoying Fawei Ciji. From that time until now, the miraculous responses to prayers near and far have been manifold.

9.28

Quanzai

9.29

Śramaṇa Quanzai, surnamed Shen in lay life, was a man of Qiantang. Even as an infant in arms, he took no pleasure in meat or blood. His mother repeatedly witnessed auspicious omens and urged him to go to Great Master Faji at Mount Jingshan to have his hair shaven. When he practiced Chan contemplation, he was lofty and prominent, untainted by the mundane world. Admiring the twelve dhūtas, he adorned his practice with them. The common saying called him Master Zai. When he visited masters in various quarters, he received confirmation from Chan Master Shishuang and was secretly nurtured by him. He entered Anyan on Mount Tiantai to perpetuate his aspiration. That cliff stood opposite the retreat of Hanshanzi; it was a dense haunt of demons and wood-sprites. During the more than twenty years that Zai resided there, evil birds changed their calls and mountain spirits yielded their caves. When he walked about practicing circumambulation, ghosts and spirits served him, some sweeping his path, some attending at his side, some drawing water in his stead, and some offering vegetables and fruits. From time to time people saw this, but Zai never spoke of it. Later he died at Zhenguo Cloister.

9.30

Yanshou

9.31

The monk Yanshou, courtesy name Chongxuan, recited the Lotus Sūtra when he was a boy with his hair in tufts, reading five lines at a glance, completing it in sixty days. He went to Chan Master Cuiyan of Siming to renounce household life. His robes had no silk or floss, and his food had no second flavor. Later he went to consult State Preceptor Shao, who illuminated the essentials of mind for him, and once said to him: "You have a karmic bond with the Commander-in-chief. Someday you will perform great Buddhist deeds. Sadly, I shall not live to see it." He first resided at Zhizhe Rock on Mount Tiantai. For ninety days he practiced meditation; a wren nested in the sleeve of his robe. Later, at Guoqing Monastery, he practiced the Lotus Repentance. At night he saw a divine being holding a halberd enter. The Master rebuked him: "How dare you enter unauthorized?" He replied: "Only because I have long accumulated good deeds have I reached this place." At midnight, while circumambulating the image, he saw a lotus flower in front of Samantabhadra come into his hand. Thereupon he went up to Zhizhe Rock and drew two lots: one was "A lifetime of Chan meditation," and the other was "Reciting scriptures, practicing all ten thousand goods, and adorning the Pure Land." Concentrating his mind in earnest prayer, he drew "Reciting scriptures and practicing all ten thousand goods," doing so up to seven times. Thereupon he wholeheartedly devoted himself to practicing the pure karma. Shaking his ringed staff, he went to Tianzhu Peak in Jinhua to recite scriptures for three years. In Chan contemplation, he saw Avalokiteśvara pouring sweet dew into his mouth, whereupon he attained eloquence. He first expounded the Dharma at Xuedou. In the first year of Jianlong, King Zhongyi invited him to reside at Lingyin. In the second year, he moved to Yongming. His daily regimen comprised one hundred and eight practices, never neglected for a moment. When students came to consult him, he pointed to the mind as the fundamental tenet and took awakening as the standard. At sunset he went to another peak to practice circumambulation and mindfulness of the Buddha. People nearby heard the sounds of conch shells and heavenly music. King Zhongyi sighed: "Since ancient times, among those who seek the Western paradise, there has never been one with such concentrated effort!" He therefore erected the Western Xiangyan Hall for him to fulfill his aspiration. Residing at Yongming for fifteen years, he had one thousand seven hundred disciples. He frequently administered the bodhisattva precepts to the assembly, gave food to ghosts by night, and released living beings by day, dedicating all of it to adorning the Pure Land. People of the time called him an incarnation of Maitreya. On the twenty-sixth day of the second month in the eighth year of Kaibao, he rose in the morning, burned incense, announced his departure to the assembly, sat cross-legged, and passed away.

9.32

Quanqing

9.33

Śramaṇa Quanqing was a native of Yue. Having obtained the secret methods of esoteric dhāraṇī-incantations, he was able to suppress and summon ghosts and spirits. At that time, the wife of Wang, a local merchant, was afflicted by an evil spirit. Her speech was deranged and confused, and she would now weep and now laugh. This had gone on for several years. They summoned [Quanqing] to treat her. He tied a grass effigy a little over a foot tall, dressed it in five-colored silks, and placed it upon the altar. After he had recited incantations over it for a long while, the woman said, "I beg for my life!" Thereupon, [the spirit] gave an account of itself, saying, "In a spring past, in front of the Shrine of Yu, I attached myself to her. If the Master will not kill me, I will depart far away." Qing then took an earthen jar and with a whip drove the straw effigy. The spirit entered into it with a bleating sound. He sealed the mouth of the vessel with Liuyi mud, stamped it with vermilion-written talismans, and buried it beneath a mulberry grove, warning the family not to disturb it. The woman's illness was cured. Five years later, when Liu Hanhong and Dong Chang faced off across the river and the city of Yue fell, people thought this was a buried hoard. They dug it up and broke the jar. A crow dashed forth in flight, perched atop a mulberry tree, and spoke in human words, saying, "Today I see the light of the sun!" By that time, Master Qing had already passed away.

9.34

Zixin

9.35

Śramaṇa Zixin, surnamed Sun, was a native of Linzi. In purifying the precepts and seeking masters, he was never indolent. Hearing that Chan Master [Daoyong of Yunju]'s teaching had spread over Zhongling, he went to consult him. After a long stay at Yunju, he turned his staff and lived in seclusion in Mount Guangde. It happened that King Wenmu of Liangzhe, Qian [Yuanguan], led officers and soldiers on a personal expedition against Yuanling and entered the mountain monastery. The crowd of monks all fled in hiding; only Xin remained at ease. [The King] asked, "Why do you not take flight?" He replied, "East and west are both bandits. Where would you have this old monk flee?" The king was astonished by his boldness and uprightness; he turned his halberd and sent him back. When King Wusu saw him and questioned him, his speech was unyielding, and his conduct lofty besides. He built the Yingsrui Cloister for him to reside in, and gave him the honorary title Great Master Guangxian. Earlier, Xin once entered the mountains of Xuancheng to gather medicinal herbs. Penetrating deep through a cave, at first it was dark, but presently daylight was clear. Having walked only several miles, by the side of the cave was another opening, where a stream flowed gently. Under a large pine bough in a recess was a thatched hermitage. A monk with snow-white eyebrows, wrapped in a patched robe, was seated in meditation; beside him were a chime and a fire implement. Xin struck the chime, whereupon the monk opened his eyes in surprise and said, "Aha! Master, by what circumstance have you come here?" He then set forth his travels and was invited to sit. Taking a stone, he struck fire and brewed tea, the aroma and flavor of which were delightful. As the sun set, the monk offered the hermitage for Xin to lodge in. Looking up, [Xin saw] the monk climb into a large nest atop the pine tree. He heard the sound of the Lotus Sūtra being chanted, very clear and bright. In a little while, the monk shouted and scolded, "Why should you beasts and hairy brutes bring terror to people? Return quickly to the woods and thickets; do not venture out so casually!" and drove them away. Xin peeked out: tigers and leopards lowered their ears and departed. The next day, Xin said to the monk, "I wish to remain here to attend to your towel and shoes." The monk said, "From here, in a hundred days the grasses will wither and all human traces will be cut off; this is no place for the master to dwell." He also asked, "Are you hungry?" and led him to the stream's bank, where there were a hundred-odd ears of rice. Gathering the grains, he hushed three handfuls of yellow millet with his hands, gathered wild greens, cooked them together, and gave them to Xin to eat. Afterwards he sent him back, seeing him to the mouth of the cave, saying, "Our meeting was no accident. Having eaten this tea and vegetable congee, you shall not lack food throughout your life." [Xin] then followed the road back to his cloister. More than a month later, he instructed like-minded companions to go again to seek it, but the traces of the cave were lost. Later, he served as the abbot of Baota Monastery in Zhejiang. In the Tianfu reign era, he passed away at his monastery at the age of over eighty. Today his portrait remains in a small cloister before Lengshuiwan.

9.36

Faben

9.37

Śramaṇa Faben—it is not known where he was from. He was upright, observed the Dharma, and was dignified in deportment, though his speech was often bizarre and provoking. During the Tianfu era, he arrived at a Chan cloister in Xiangzhou and spent the summer retreat together with another monk. Cohabiting morning and evening, their minds were intimately attuned. Faben once said, "I am abbot of Zhulin Monastery in the western mountains of Xiangzhou. In front of the monastery is a stone pillar. When you have leisure in the future, you must come visit me." The monk remembered these words and went to look for him. Reaching a village at the foot of the mountain, he stayed overnight at an araṇya and asked a monk of the village, "How far is it from here to Zhulin Monastery?" The monk pointed afar toward the side of a solitary peak, saying, "That is the place. Ancients handed down that it was formerly an abode of holy sages, but today only the name remains; there are no cloister buildings." The monk was doubtful, but went forth the next morning. When he reached the bamboo grove, there was indeed a stone pillar in the grove, boundless and without end. Faben had said when parting, "Just knock on the pillar and you will see me." The monk struck the pillar several times with a small branch; thereupon wind and clouds arose on all four sides, so thick that one could not see an inch. Suddenly his eyes and ears opened wide: multistoried towers rose facing each other, and he found himself standing under the triple gate. In a moment, Faben came out from within. Overjoyed to see him, Faben inquired about old events in the South. He then led the monk through multiple gates and up to a secret hall to pay respects to the elder. The elder asked why he had come, and Faben said, "In earlier years we spent the summer retreat together in Xiangzhou, and agreed to visit each other here; hence he has arrived at our mountain gate." The elder said, "He may be asked to leave after eating. There is no seat for him here." When the meal was finished, Faben escorted him to the triple gate to take leave. Thereupon heaven and earth turned dark, and he did not know where to tread. In a moment, he was as before beside the stone pillar in the bamboo grove; nothing else could be seen. Thus one knows that the hiding and revealing of holy sages in this world can never be fully measured—is it only the Tathāgata Golden Grain who can manifest such transformations?

9.38

Master Diandian

9.39

Master Diandian—it is not known where he was from. Although he had shaved his head and dyed his robes, he always acted like a madman. When someone invited him to a vegetarian meal, he did not abstain from wine and meat. Every day toward dusk, he would buy yellow and white hemp paper, brushes, and ink, put them in his sleeves, and return to his room. Although it had an outer door, it had no four walls. After entering, he closed the door so that no one could approach. At first, a young novice of the neighboring monk tiptoed up to spy on him: he saw him holding a candle, sitting with legs splayed, laying out the paper and brush before him, shouting rebukes, and writing in large characters—no one could decipher his writing. He often gave abrupt sighs and shouts as if passing judgments and executing orders. After a long while, looking closely between light and darkness, [the novice saw] shimmering figures lined up in rows like government clerks, their tunics and skirts wholly unlike the clothing of this world. The observer retreated in terror. When questioned about the reason, he angrily refused to answer. He lived thus for several years, and the people of Qiong and Zuo all regarded him as miraculous. Later, it was not known where he ended.

9.40

Xingzun

9.41

Śramaṇa Xingzun was the second son of Wang [Shenzhi], the King of Min in Fuzhou. During the Kaiyun era, his appearance was like someone over seventy, yet his vigor had not waned. If anyone asked his age or monastic seniority, he would maintain absolute silence. He lodged at Guangguo Chan Cloister in Langzhong. The community of the cloister maintained the monastery through the vinaya rules, and people did not know whether Zun was capable or not. A son of the Li family invited him to a meal; while eating and drinking, he suddenly sprang up and went out the door, shouting as if rebuking someone. He said to Li, "Tonight there will be a fire from the southeast to the northwest street. Have the neighbors all prepare for it." That evening it was indeed reduced to ashes without remainder. The crowd asked him the reason, and he said, "Yesterday a woman dressed in red passed by holding a torch; this old monk only regrets not catching up to her." Again, at the house of Legal Officer Zhao, he pointed beneath a peach tree and said, "There is such-and-such amount of money," without stating the exact number. Zhao then summoned men to dig for it. Just as the baskets and spades were set to work, a guest happened to arrive. The money was seized by the domestic servants; in the midst of the commotion, it all turned into blue mud. Whenever he passed by graves, he would know the good or bad fortune of the family. As for winds and the cries of birds and beasts, when he saw or heard them, the calamities he foretold inevitably came true. Therefore, people far and near in the commanderies and villages used his predictions as a constant topic of conversation. He ended his days at Mount Yu in Jin'an, where the monastic assembly cremated him.

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神僧傳 — Classical Chinese