廣弘明集 23.44

23.44

The Dharma master's taboo name was Sengjing. His original surname was Ouyang, and he was a native of Xiangxiang in Hengyang. Relying on good causes from beginningless time, he attained far-reaching awakening in this life. Containing inner virtue and understanding inner principles, he was naturally so from his youth. He was fond of reciting the sūtras and excelled at maintaining moral conduct. His deportment was well-regulated, and in body and speech he had nothing to be reproached for. He was orphaned at the age of ten and served his mother with utmost filial piety. His mother sought a marriage for him, but [alliance with] a good clan was not his wish. He declined, but his mother did not grant his request. When he was twenty, he was constrained by worldly duties. At that time, war-horses were foaled in the outskirts and urgent military dispatches arrived daily. He personally donned armor and traversed mountains and rivers for nearly ten years. Although externally he faced hardships and brambles, internally he fostered loving-kindness and compassion; hence, even before leaving the crowd of men, he had already perfected the practice of quieting the mind. Later, traveling through Pengli, he caught sight of Mount Lu and was delighted by it, whereupon he had the intention of ending his days there. He then returned to Xiangchuan and gradually discarded worldly entanglements. Tasting the path, he forgot to eat, taking only one meal of vegetables a day. Afterward, once he managed to exit the military stockade, he immediately parted from his wife. Suddenly he dreamed of the spirit of Mount Lu bowing in reverence and saying: 'Mount Lu is a peak soaring to heaven; it is called the Three Palaces, rising precipitous ten thousand fathoms high. I wish to invite a True Person to dwell there. If you, True Person, do not comply, this mountain will be abandoned forever.' He also dreamed that he accepted the invitation and journeyed until he reached the peak of the Stone Gate at Xianglu Peak, where he saw silver pavilions, golden towers, cinnabar springs, and jade-green trees—rugged, steep, and carved, rarely seen in this world. Thereupon, at cockcrow warning of dawn, he lightly set forth on a morning journey. At that time, many monks in Jiangling were renowned for their religious practice. Someone told the Dharma master, 'Buddhist matters are flourishing greatly in Jingzhou.' He therefore rowed eastward, floating west from Xiashou. He met the Daoist monk Sengjing, who had a profound understanding of dhyāna-meditation, and said, 'This is truly my master!' He then shaved his hair and followed him, dwelling in the Zhulin Meditation Chamber. There he first ceased eating grains, silently contemplating the Way, sometimes staying awake until morning. When the regional inspector heard of his fame, he was pleased and wished to invite him. Someone said, 'One may only go to visit this venerable man; he cannot be coerced into coming.' Thereupon, the inspector repeatedly went to his thatched hut and respectfully received the precepts from him. Scholars and notables of the Jiang and Han rivers also turned toward him like clouds. Prior to this, the shrine on the sacred mountain had responded to prayers like an echo: those who violated or offended it met with disasters by the dozens. When the Dharma master built his hut beside it, the spirit manifested its form to pay homage and made two divine boys attend upon him day and night. A female shaman saw this and asked about it, but the Dharma master did not reply. The spirit of Mount Lu came again and persistently requested him [to go there]. In the seventh month of the tenth year of Yongming, brandishing his staff, he ascended the peak. Everything he saw on his journey was just as it had been in his dream. He thereupon took a rock as his foundation, built a structure leaning against the crag, and sat upright in proper contemplation, with tigers and leopards as his companions. Former men of virtue, such as Tanlong and Huiyuan, had also chosen to dwell here; but because human traces were rare, they could not endure the misery, and the mountain vapors, rich and stifling, gave people headaches and fevers, so after a short while they invariably came down. Only the Dharma master went alone and never returned once he departed. Having already cast aside the sustenance of grains, he did not avoid the frost and dew. At times, grasping vines, he crossed treacherous spots, moving as if flying. Some demons, displeased by the Dharma master's arrival, stirred up thunder and wind to test him; but when they saw that the Dharma master's spiritual application was steadfast, the host of demons ceased. Later, following dangerous and secluded paths, he reached a stone bridge and a stone chamber, a sacred mountain and secret place where the hundred spirits roamed. When the Dharma master explained the precepts and offered incense, the spirits all bowed their heads and faces to his feet. In the past, the divine man Wu Meng had been able to enter and roam here; from then until now, only the Dharma master reached it again. Since the time of Fuxi, there have been only these two men! When the Dharma master had first entered the mountain for two years, the flavor of dhyāna was newly perfected; whenever he collected his mind to enter tranquility, he especially saw Maitreya Tathāgata. He often said, 'This is an affinity planted in past lives.' In the spring of the fourth year of Jianwu, he suddenly said to his disciples: 'My lifespan should be ninety years, but my remaining years would bring no benefit to the world, while the four elements burden others. Longing to deliver and aid sentient beings, I must not stay here long.' On the twenty-first day of the seventh month, he marked the western end of the highest peak as the place to lay his corpse, though no one understood it. Seven days later, he fell ill, and seven days after that, he passed away at the age of fifty-eight. On the verge of death, he joined his palms and said: 'I vow to be born immediately into the three miserable destinies to rescue all beings from their suffering.' He also said: 'I offer my body to the black crows; take care not to bury it.' Earlier, the Dharma master had summoned several people from the lower monastery to observe the retreat and give lectures. Someone suggested to the Dharma master, 'We wish to go out of the mountain to seek a physician,' and urged him to take food and drink. The Dharma master said: 'My burdens lie in this body; once I have no body, what burden will I have? Say no more.' Sixteen days after his passing, his countenance was as if he were alive. Two fingers were curled in a grasp, and when stretched out, they returned to their former state. Senior bhikṣus all said: 'Those who attain the Way mostly take seven as their number; did this not hold true for the Dharma master from his illness to his passing? That the two fingers did not straighten also truly had a reason.' At first, Xianglu Peak was so solitary and isolated that birds with wings could not reach it. From the time the Dharma master founded [the monastery], a pair of crows always came to nest. When the Dharma master passed away, the crows also vanished forever. Indeed, the Dharma master had his roots in profound depths, and had long cultivated pure karma; hence, loving-kindness, compassion, joy, and equanimity became second nature to him through habit, and the subtle, dark, and penetrating arose directly from his mind. He entered the mountain forests never to emerge, cutting off worldly glory to remain detached. As for the nourishment of the eight delicacies to strengthen the bones, or the arts of the nine-cycle elixir to prolong vitality—he cast them all aside like worn shoes. With only a straight mind and resolute will, he boarded the priceless jewel ship, cherishing and protecting the conjured city, resolving to reach the other shore. He explored and revered what cannot be measured, so one cannot fully describe him with a name.