法苑珠林 28.35

28.35

Shi Puan of Pianzi Valley in the Zhongnan Mountains during the Sui dynasty was surnamed Guo. He was a native of Jingyang in north Yongzhou. Observing the rules of conduct and the practices of the Dharma, he dwelt alone in the forests and wilds, never lodging in the secular world. He focused purely on venerating dhyāna contemplation, wandering in barren and perilous places until the end of his days. Avoiding neither wolves nor tigers, he constantly recited the Avataṃsaka, never letting the scroll leave his hand. He cultivated ascetic practices, sacrificing his body for living beings, often roaming the mountain wilds to offer it to birds and beasts. Though tigers and leopards came, they would only sniff him and not eat him. He was always troubled that his deep desire was not fulfilled. When encountering the suppression of the teachings under the Zhou dynasty, he fled to Zhongnan together with more than thirty monks of eminent virtue, settling in a secluded valley. He personally went on begging rounds to supply them with ample provisions. Although reports of him reached [the authorities], all managed to escape harm. At that time, Dharma Master Ai had taken refuge from the calamity at the home of Du Yingshi in Yigu, where they dug a cellar to hide him. When Puan was released and returned, he stopped by to pay his respects. Ai said, 'Venerable An's lucid understanding of the Buddha-Dharma is perhaps not yet vast and comprehensive, yet his spiritual resolve is peerless, unyielding before the mighty and oppressive. He is indeed hard to equal!' Puan replied, 'That I have now escaped calamity is solely through the power of the Avataṃsaka-sūtra.' When Emperor Wen of the Sui founded his dynastic calendar, Buddhism flourished greatly. He widely recruited and dispatched monks to settle in their former places. At that time, more than thirty monks from the single valley of Pianzi complied with the imperial edict to enter the monastic life, all taking up residence in official monasteries. Puan alone took delight in mountain living, maintaining his simplicity amid the forested ravines. From time to time he went among villages and gatherings, wisely benefiting living beings, but he always rested amid the mists and clouds, avoiding contact with worldly vanity. Later, someone carved a niche and built a hut by the side of the confluent ravine of the two valleys of Ziwu and Hulin, inviting him to reside there. On the day he first took up residence in the niche, there was a great boulder directly above it. Fearing it might fall, they dug it out, and it tumbled down following the steep slope. Puan thought to himself, 'May it move elsewhere and not smash the niche and cave.' The boulder then burst away to another place in accordance with his words. The assembly all marvelled at it. Puan said, 'This is the power of the Avataṃsaka-sūtra; it is not worth wondering at.' Moreover, east of the niche, by the stone cliff to the left of the ravine, there was a man named Suo Tuo, a great menace to the river valley whose unruly deeds were many. Harboring secret jealousy of Puan's virtue and always fearful [of his influence], he sought to kill him. Together with three companions, carrying bows and clasping blades, he bared his arms and drew a powerful bow, about to loose his arrow. The arrow would not leave the bowstring, and his hand remained locked in tension without ceasing. With glaring eyes and bared teeth, he stood transfixed through the night. The news spread and vibrated far and near, and people gathered like clouds. The villagers bowed their heads, showed sincere devotion, and begged for rescue. Puan said, 'From the start I had no intention of this; is this not the power of the Avataṃsaka? If you wish to be relieved, you need only repent.' As he instructed them to do so, [Suo Tuo] then obtained release. Furthermore, west of the niche in Wei Village, there was one Zhang Hui, who had long harbored evil thoughts and took theft as his occupation. At night he went to Puan's place and secretly took the Buddha's oil, carrying out a jar holding five dou on his back. Once he reached the courtyard gate, he became disoriented and lost his way, as if bound by something, unable to move. His family and fellow villagers came together to offer apologies. Puan said, 'I know nothing of this; it is merely the power of the Avataṃsaka.' He told them to repent and help him put down the oil jar; in accordance with his words, [Zhang Hui] was freed. Furthermore, south of the niche, one Zhang Qing came to steal Puan's coins, carrying them off in his sleeve. Once he reached home, he tried to pour them out but they would not come forth, and his mouth locked so that he could not speak. Zhang soon returned, repented, admitted his transgression, and departed. There was also one Cheng Huihe of Chengguo Village, who possessed a fair degree of faith and devotion, often coming to Puan's place to listen to the essentials of the Dharma. He fell ill and died; two nights had already passed, and the corpse was bound on the ground, awaiting encoffining. At that time, Puan had previously gone to Hu County and was on his way back. He arrived at the Dexing Monastery in the southwest, five li east of Hui's village. From afar he called out, 'Cheng Huihe, why have you not come to welcome me?' He called out repeatedly without stopping. A farmer informed him, 'He died long ago; there is no way for him to welcome you.' Puan said, 'These are idle words; I do not believe them.' He soon arrived at the village and cried out in a loud voice. He thereupon moved his body. His nearby kin then cut the binding cords to sever them. Puan entered the courtyard and shouted to him again. He immediately got up and crawled toward Puan. Puan had them clear away the coffin and equipment, overturned a bamboo fish trap to serve as a Buddha-seat, and made He circumambulate it. He soon recovered as before, and lived for another twenty years. Later, encountering severe illness, he came to seek rescue. Puan said, 'I allowed you to wander freely; this is beyond my doing.' He then passed away. At that time, Puan's fame spread far and wide; clergy and laity honored him, and the multitude from the surrounding regions all came to pay homage. When he initiated auspicious assemblies, there were many sympathetic resonances. Thus, northeast of Kunming Pool in Bai Village, an elderly mother had been bedridden and struck dumb for more than a hundred days. She gestured to her sons and daughters, yearning to see Puan's person. Comprehending their mother's intention, they invited him to their residence. When the sick mother saw him, she unconsciously stepped down to welcome him, speaking and inquiring after his well-being just as on ordinary days, and her painful illness vanished. Thereupon his fame resonated even more, and the villages assembled, wishing to offer a great vegetarian feast. In Dawan Village there was a man named Tian Yisheng, whose household was destitute, possessing only bare walls, yet he had four daughters. His wife wore tattered hemp that barely reached her knees, and his four daughters were stark naked, with nothing covering their bodies. The eldest daughter, named Huayan, was already twenty years old, and possessed only two chi of coarse cloth intended for an offering. When Puan led the village assembly and passed by their gate, pitying their destitution, he bypassed them and did not enter. The eldest daughter reflected, 'Because of our tormenting poverty, we cannot participate in the gathering of blessings. If I do not cultivate [merit] now, how can I be saved in the future?' Searching everywhere for something, she found not a single object. Looking up and wailing in sorrow, she then noticed in the ridgepole of the roof a clump of discarded foxtail-millet straw used to plug a skylight. Pulling it down and shaking it out, she obtained ten grains of grain, which she hulled into rice. Taking this together with the earlier cloth, she intended to rejoice and make her offering. Having no clothes on her body, she waited until the dark of night, crawling along toward the place of the vegetarian feast. From afar, she threw the former offering into the midst of the assembly, and offered the ten-odd grains of rice separately for cooking the meal. She then made a vow: 'As an impoverished woman, because I sowed the karmic cause of stinginess in the past, I now receive this retribution of poverty and suffer such distress. Now, giving up all my poverty, I practice generosity in hopes of future retribution. Having made this vow, I cast these ten grains of yellow rice into the cooking steamer. If my utmost sincerity can truly exhaust my poverty karma, may the cooked rice turn entirely yellow. If there is no sympathetic resonance, what can I do about my fate?' Having made this oath, she wiped her tears and returned. Thereupon, the five dan of rice in the steamer all turned yellow. The great assembly marvelled, not knowing the cause. Inquiring on all sides into the circumstances, it was said, 'This was through the vow-power of Tian Yisheng's daughter.' The vegetarian assembly joined together to collect and donate ten hu of millet, which they promptly gave to assist her. Puan provided her with monastic robes and ordained her as Huayan, sending her to a monastery in the capital. Thereafter, his reputation resounded anew, and his vast awakening was beyond description. Though Puan's dwelling was hidden, he constantly practiced compassionate rescue. Every year, at the two seasonal sacrifices to the earth god, blood offerings were numerous; he traveled around redeeming [the sacrificial beasts] and encouraging the cultivation of the Dharma's meaning, so that villages that did not kill living beings were not few. Once, at a village earth-shrine beside his niche, three pigs were bound and about to be slaughtered and cooked. Hearing of it, Puan went to redeem them. Fearing they would not be allowed to slaughter them, the shrine-folk raised the price and demanded ten thousand coins. Puan said, 'I, a poor monk, currently have three thousand, which already exceeds the original price tenfold; it can be given to you.' The crowd held divergent views and began to squabble angrily with one another. Suddenly, a young boy wrapped in a sheepskin around his belly came to the shrine gathering to assist Puan in redeeming the pigs. Seeing the dispute, he asked for wine, drinking as he danced, spinning dazzlingly around. The eyes of both old and young in the entire shrine were all struck blind. In an instant, the boy vanished of himself, and no one knew where he had gone. Puan then drew a knife, cut the flesh from his own thigh, and said, 'This and that are both just flesh. Pigs eat filth and excrement, yet you still devour them; how much more so is a human who eats rice noble by nature!' Hearing and seeing this, the shrine-folk released them all at once. Once the pigs were freed, they circumambulated Puan three times, nudging him with their snouts as though expressing affection and respect, causing others to emulate them. Within fifty li to the south and west, the lineages of chickens and pigs were terminated, lasting even until the present day. His inspiring of compassion and kindness was all of this sort. By nature, he possessed great sincerity and faith, and delighted in reciting the Avataṃsaka. With only one bowl and three robes, over many decades he became ever more diligent. In the eighth year of Kaihuang, he was repeatedly summoned to the capital by imperial edict to serve as master at the gate of the Crown Prince. When the Senior Princess constructed the Jingfa Monastery, she also invited him to dwell there. Though his name was recorded in the imperial precincts, he constantly slept in the rocky ravines. On the fifth day of the eleventh month in the fifth year of Daye, he passed away in the Dhyāna Courtyard of Jingfa Monastery at the age of eighty.