南嶽總勝集 3.46

3.46

Chan Master Quan of Hengyue was a southerner. His name was Guquan. In his youth he was clever and astute; by nature he could endure dirt and filth. He spoke big words without deference and was detested by vulgar society. He visited Chan Master Zhao of Fenyang, who secretly gave him a prediction and sent him back south. He wandered unrestrained through the Xiang region, keeping company with tiger pools and dragon dens. Passing through Nanyue's Yunfeng Monastery, he lived at Lanzan's Rock, then moved to Bajiao Hermitage, and later relocated to Baozhen. In large characters, he wrote on the wall: 'Here at my Bajiao Hermitage, / A secluded, ancient place where clouds gather, / I have no leisure to count a thousand marvelous scenes; / Let me just gaze at three or four dwarf pines. / When cold comes, I burn withered fir; / When hungry, I eat large purple taros. / And now I cast it aside and depart, / Knowing not who will come to live here.' Baozhen Hermitage was at the most treacherous and remote spot. Sitting on the ground at night below Zhurong Peak, a giant python coiled around him. Quan unfastened his sash and tied it around its waist. In the night it vanished. The next day, leaning on his mountain staff, he searched throughout the mountains; the sash was wrapped around a withered pine—it had been a pine demon. Furthermore, he carried a stone statue weighing several hundred catties from the Rear Grotto to Nantai; the monks were astounded and did not know how it had come, nor did the monks of the Rear Grotto know how it had gone. Thus tradition called it the Flying Arhat. Once, passing through Hengshan County, he saw a butcher chopping meat. Standing beside him, he put on a pitiful appearance, pointing to the meat and then to his mouth. The butcher asked, 'Are you mute?' He nodded. Taking pity on him, the butcher cut off a huge hunk of meat and placed it in his alms bowl. Quan was overjoyed beyond expectations, bowed in gratitude, and departed. The whole marketplace broke into great laughter, but Quan was completely unperturbed. Carrying a large gourd on his staff, he came and went in the mountains. People asked, 'What is in the gourd?' He replied, 'It is the nectar of the Great Way.' He composed a verse himself: 'I care for nobody, / And who is it that cares not? / Wearing a worn-out paper smock, / Entirely given over to sleeping. / The golden crow rises from the east; / The jade rabbit sinks from the west. / How does honor or disgrace bind me? / Rise and fall are none of my concern. / A single walking staff, a single gourd; / Idly roaming the southern mountain and the northern mountain.' Lying drunk along the mountain path, he encountered heavy snow. Getting up, he composed a verse: 'This morning's snow is truly fine, / Swirling thick like the autumn moon. / Mañjuśrī dares not show his head; / Samantabhadra displays his clumsiness.' He kept a servant named Tiaogu, whom he ordered daily to gather firewood and draw water from the ravine, or sometimes called him to sit opposite him among the rocks. He presented him with a verse: 'I have a mountain lad named Tiaogu; / He does not chant scriptures, nor does he bow to the patriarchs. / He can carry kindling to ward off the winter cold; / Following his lot, his clothes are torn and not patched. / He knows how to plant vegetables and can grow taros; / Going through a thousand mountains and ten thousand mountains without fear. / Haha, haha! Where could one ever find the like?'