法苑珠林 18.8

18.8

Dong Ji of the Jin was a native of Yuqian. His family had revered the Dharma for three generations, and with Ji they became especially vigorous. He regularly kept the dietary purifications and chanted the Śūraṅgama-sūtra. Whenever anyone in the village fell ill, they would invite Ji to recite the scripture, and most of those he sought to save recovered. He Huang of the same county was also a gentleman who revered the Dharma. During the Xianhe era, he suddenly contracted a toxic mountain illness and was critically afflicted. Huang's elder brother hurriedly galloped over to invite Ji. The two dwellings of Dong and He were sixty or seventy li apart, separated also by a large torrent. In the fifth month, there were heavy rains. When Huang's brother first crossed, the flood had not yet arrived. Ji agreed to arrive by midday. By the time he went, the mountain waters had surged violently and were no longer fordable. Ji could not swim; he hesitated and sighed, sitting on the bank for a long while, wishing to wade in but not daring to cross. Being trustworthy and upright, Ji was determined to make the appointment. Feeling deep compassion, he made a vow, saying: 'To rescue someone in urgent distress, I do not consider my own body or life. I rely on the expectation that the Tathāgata and Mahāsattvas will illumine this sincerity of mine.' He then stripped off his clothes, placed the bagged scripture upon his head, and stepped straight into the water. Judging its depth, it should have reached his neck, but when Ji crossed, it was merely up to his knees. After reaching the bank, he lost the scripture bag. Deeply lamenting, he proceeded to Huang's house, made three prostrations of repentance, and wept in self-reproach. In the blink of an eye, he saw the scripture bag on the high seat. With mixed sorrow and joy, Ji picked it up and inspected it; it was damp as though with moisture, but when he opened the bag to examine the scripture, it was still dry as before. Thereupon the villagers all revered the Dharma at once. To the northwest of Ji's dwelling was a high and precipitous mountain, wherein were many spirits and spectres that harmed the residents. Relying on the power of the scriptures and precepts, Ji wished to subdue them. On four or five mu of land at the mountain's edge, he cleared the trees with his own hands, constructed a small hut, installed a high seat, and recited the Śūraṅgama-sūtra. For over a hundred days, there was complete silence, and the harm to the people gradually ceased. Later, several men came to Ji's place and spoke with him for a long time. Ji reflected that the speech of these visitors was not that of Yuqian people; how could they have come to such remote and secluded mountains? Suspecting they were ghosts or spirits, he said to them: 'Could you gentlemen be the spirits of this place?' They replied: 'Indeed we are. Hearing of your pure and solemn virtue, we have come to observe you, and also to ask one thing, which we imagine you will certainly grant. We have held this mountain for generations as our dwelling place. Since you came to reside here, we feared there might be conflict, and have constantly harboured unease. Now we wish to establish a new boundary; we shall kill trees to mark the division.' Ji said: 'I covet this quietude to chant the scriptures, and have no wish to infringe upon you. Being your neighbor, I hope for your assistance.' The spirits replied: 'We likewise rely on you not to encroach upon us.' When their words ended, they departed. After one night, outside the four borders of the land he had previously cleared, the trees were all withered and dead, looking as if scorched by fire. Ji died at the age of eighty-seven.