法苑珠林 39.25

39.25

高齊初有異僧。投鄴下寺中夏坐。與同房僧亡名欵曲意得。客僧患痢甚困。名以酒與之。客曰不可也。名曰。但飲。酒雖是戒禁有患通開。客顰眉為飲之患損。夏滿辭還本寺。相送出都。客曰。頗聞鼓山竹林寺乎。名曰聞之。古來虛傳竟無至者。客曰。無心相造。何由而至。一夏同房多相惱亂。患痢飲酒乃是佳藥。本非所欲為意而飲。願不此及人。山寺孤逈。時可歷覽。想一登陟以副虛懷。名聞喜躍曰。必能導達夕死無恨。至九月間剋望尋展。幸賜提引。不爾無由。客曰。若來可從鼓山東面而上。東度小谷。又東北上即是山寺。至期與好事者五六人。直詣石窟寺。山僧曰。何以得來。曰欲往竹林道由於此。僧曰。世人可笑。專聽妖言。此山東西我並遊涉。何處有寺。古有斯言。不勞往也。名曰。彼客致詞極非猛浪何有虛也。只得尋之。尋而不獲非余咎也。石窟寺僧數十相隨。依言東上。度谷尋嶺。忽見一翁把钁斵地。又見一僧來至鋤禾四邊。把鋤曳钁曰。去年官寺道人放馬食我禾盡。今年復來蹋我秋苗。舉钁趂僧。並皆返歸。唯名一人東北獨上。翁曰。放儞上山。乞蟲喫却。遂依東上。林木深茂。聞南嶺上有吟詠聲。名曰。非往者客耶。曰是也。排榛而出。執手敘闊相將造寺。瞬目間忽見崇峯簉曰脩竹干雲重門洞開複殿基列。門外東西槽櫪飾以金鋪。似有馬蹤而無繫者。行至門首。曰且住此。通和尚去。須臾便出引入至佛殿前禮拜訖。西至廊下。和尚可年九十許。眉長鼻高狀如西僧。傍有官吏可三十人。執文簿有所判斷。舉手告曰。下里山寺殊無可觀。何能遠涉。名即禮拜十數拜。和尚曰。行來疲頓可止將至房去。便引西房北東轉見僧憑案讀經。名便禮拜都不慰問。便引盡北行東出至本客房中。歡笑通宵屢言永住。彼曰。一任和尚不敢為礙。待明為諮。報曰。和尚不許。乃至中食不異鄴中。臨別和尚曰。知欲永住。知友情也。然出家人不可兩處安名。本寺受供可得乖否。必欲永住。可除彼名好去。便辭送出執手憤惋。既別悽然。行一里間。數數反顧寺塔。林竹依然滿目。更行二里返顧並無。但是峯崖雜樹。行行西下。依隨本道。不見田苗。亦無田翁乃至石窟。備為僧說之。

In the early Northern Qi, there was a wondrous monk who took shelter in a temple in Ye for the summer retreat. He became intimate and got along well with a monk in the same room named Wangming. The guest monk suffered from severe dysentery and was exhausted. Ming offered him wine. The guest said: 'It cannot be.' Ming said: 'Just drink it. Although wine is forbidden by the precepts, in case of illness an exception is permitted.' The guest knitted his brows and drank it for his sake, and his ailment subsided. When the summer ended, he took his leave to return to his original temple. Ming accompanied him out of the capital. The guest said: 'Have you heard of Zhulin Temple on Mount Gu?' Ming said: 'I have heard of it. Since ancient times it has been an unfounded legend, and in the end no one has ever reached it.' The guest said: 'If one has no intention to visit, by what means could one reach it? Sharing a room for a summer, I troubled you greatly; when I suffered from dysentery, drinking wine was indeed good medicine. It was originally not what I desired, but I drank it out of regard for your intention. I hope you will not mention this to others. The mountain temple is lonely and remote; at times it can be visited. I trust you might climb it once to fulfill your open aspirations.' When Ming heard this, he leaped with joy and said: 'If you can surely guide me there, I would die at dusk without regret. Around the ninth month, I will expect to seek you out; please grant me your guidance, for otherwise there would be no way.' The guest said: 'If you come, you may ascend from the eastern face of Mount Gu. Cross a small valley to the east, then ascend northeast, and that will be the mountain temple.' When the time arrived, Ming, together with five or six curious companions, went straight to Shikou Temple. The mountain monks said: 'Why have you come?' He said: 'We wish to go to Zhulin, and our road passes through here.' The monks said: 'Worldly people are laughable, solely listening to seductive talk. I have traveled throughout both the east and west of this mountain; where is there any temple? Such talk has existed since ancient times; do not trouble yourselves to go.' Ming said: 'The words uttered by that guest were extremely free of rashness; how could they be false? I must simply search for it; if I search and do not find it, the fault will not be mine.' Several tens of monks from Shikou Temple followed along. Following the instructions, they ascended to the east, crossed the valley, and sought the ridge. Suddenly they saw an old man holding a mattock and digging the earth; they also saw a monk arrive, hoeing the crops all around. Holding his hoe and dragging his mattock, [the old man] said: 'Last year, the monks of the official temple let their horses loose and ate all my crops; this year you come again to trample my autumn sprouts!' Raising his mattock, he chased the monks, and they all turned back, leaving only Ming to ascend northeast alone. The old man said: 'I let you go up the mountain; let the bugs eat you up!' Thereupon he ascended to the east; the forest trees were dense and luxuriant. He heard the sound of chanting upon the southern ridge. Ming said: 'Is that not the former guest?' The reply was: 'It is.' Pushing through the brambles, the guest came out, grasped his hand, exchanged greetings after their long separation, and led him toward the temple. In the blink of an eye, he suddenly saw lofty peaks standing side by side, tall bamboo piercing the clouds, multi-layered gates wide open, and layered halls arranged upon their foundations. Outside the gate, the mangers to the east and west were decorated with gold fittings; there seemed to be traces of horses, but none were tethered. When they reached the gate entrance, the guest said: 'Wait here for a moment; I will go report to the Abbot.' In a short while, he came out, led him in to the front of the Buddha hall, and after bowing, they went west to the corridor. The Abbot was about ninety years of age, with long eyebrows and a high nose, looking like a Western monk. Beside him were about thirty officials holding registers and passing judgments. Raising his hand, he spoke, saying: 'This rustic mountain temple has truly nothing worth seeing; how were you able to travel so far?' Ming then made more than ten prostrations. The Abbot said: 'You are weary from traveling; you may rest and be taken to the room.' He was then led to the western room, and turning northeast, he saw a monk leaning on a desk reading sūtras; Ming then bowed, but the monk offered no greeting at all. He was then led to the far north, going east into the room of his original guest, where they laughed and rejoiced throughout the night, Ming repeatedly speaking of staying permanently. That guest said: 'It is entirely up to the Abbot; I dare not create an obstruction. Wait until tomorrow, and I will consult him for you.' He reported: 'The Abbot does not permit it.' Coming to the midday meal, it was no different from that in Ye. When parting, the Abbot said: 'I know you wish to stay permanently, and I understand your friendly feelings. However, one who has left home cannot have his name registered in two places. In your original temple you receive offerings; can that be transgressed? If you truly wish to dwell permanently, you may remove your name from that place and then come properly.' Ming then took his leave and was escorted out; grasping hands in regretful sorrow, the parting was melancholy. After walking for a distance of one league, he repeatedly looked back at the temple and stupas, where the forest and bamboo still met his eyes as before. Walking for two more leagues, he looked back and there was nothing at all, only peak cliffs and miscellaneous trees. Walking continuously down to the west, he followed the original path, seeing no sprouts of crops, nor any farming old man, all the way until he reached Shikou, where he recounted it in full to the monks.