法苑珠林 31

English (machine translation) 31

Language: English

31.1

Compiled by the śramaṇa Shi Daoshi of Ximing Temple

31.2

Chapter 23: Concealment and Reclusion
Chapter 24: Strange Anomalies

31.3

Concealment and Reclusion (containing two sections)

It is heard that when sages and worthies respond to the world, their traces are without fixed direction; in whatever country they stay, there is none that is not benefited. Worldly scholars are constrained by auspiciousness and misfortune, while those of superior wisdom remain serene regarding good and bad. If one awaits them with a rectified mind, one's capacity is equal to Heaven. Formerly, in the era of Emperor Wu of the Jin, there was Jīvaka of India; in the early era of Emperor Wu of the Song, there was Beidu of Pengcheng. Both manifested portentous omens to illuminate and awaken the common folk. In the Qi and Liang dynasties there was the śramaṇa Baozhi, who first appeared at the beginning of the Yongming era. He concealed his wisdom under the guise of madness, his person mingling with the coarse dust; yet he hid the past and knew the future, and his spiritual efficacy never failed to hit the mark. When he stirred in expression or issued words, rarely was any counsel amiss. Scholars and commoners rushed to him like clouds wherever he was. His bodily traces were tied to the dust and grime, but his spirit roamed in profound tranquility. Fire and water could neither scorch nor wet him; snakes and tigers could not harm or poison him. Even when confined behind nine gates, his body remained unhindered to the end. In terms of Buddhist principles, he was at or above the śrāvaka level; in terms of reclusion, he was an escaped immortal and high-minded recluse. Because there was good in the world, he emerged with goodness to respond to it; because there was evil in the world, he emerged with severity to respond to it. He may truly be said to hang beside the sun and moon and outlast metal and stone. Limitless blessings are seen in this!

31.6

Section 2: Citations and Proofs

31.7

As the Jātaka Sūtra states: The Buddha addressed the monks: Countless kalpas ago in the past, there were a sister and brother. The sister had a son, who along with his uncle was employed in weaving for the royal court's imperial treasury. Seeing the rare treasures and fine items in the treasury, they conferred together, saying: 'We weave and toil with great bitterness, while the treasury's goods are so vast! Should we not take some together to relieve our poverty?' Watching for the night when people were settled, they tunneled an underground burrow and stole incalculable amounts of royal goods. The next morning, the overseer of the treasury noticed that the goods were diminished and reported this to the king. The king issued a decree to him, saying: 'Do not publicize it far and wide so as to let outsiders hear of it.' The thieves, uncle and nephew, thought that the king had not noticed. The king said: 'In days to come they will surely return again. Let us strictly guard and watch to wait for them. If anyone is caught, seize and capture him; do not let him get away.' The treasury overseer received the decree and immediately reinforced the guard. After a long while, they returned to steal. The nephew instructed the uncle: 'Uncle, you are advanced in years, your body is weak and your strength is meager. If you are caught by the guards, you will not be able to free yourself. My strength is vigorous, so I should pull and rescue you.' Just as the uncle entered the burrow, he was seized by the guards. The captors shouted for the others. The nephew could not pull him free, and fearing that daylight would reveal his identity, he forthwith cut off the uncle's head, exited the burrow, and took it home. At dawn, the treasury overseer reported the full details to the king. The king again decreed: 'Carry his corpse out and place it at a four-way intersection. Whoever cries over it and takes the dead body is the chief of the bandits.' It was discarded at the crossroads and guarded for successive days. Men and horses crowded and blocked the road in a chaotic rush. The thief took advantage of the commotion to load two carts of firewood and place them over the corpse. The guards reported to the king. The king decreed that they secretly observe: 'If someone sets fire to it, bind and deliver him here.' Thereupon, the nephew taught children to hold torches and dance in play, causing the crowd to fall into total commotion. He threw fire onto the firewood, and the firewood blazed fiercely. The guards did not notice and reported the full details to the king. The king again decreed: 'When the cremation is complete, increase the strict observation even further; whoever comes to collect the bones is the mastermind.' The nephew noticed this as well. He secretly brewed a large quantity of wine to make it exceptionally rich and strong. He went to the guards and quietly sold it to them. Because the guards had been hungry and thirsty for nights on end, seeing the wine they drank together in a flock; having drunk to excess, all fell into a drunken slumber. Filling a wine jar with the bones, he left. The guards did not notice. The next morning they reported again to the king. The king again decreed: 'Despite successive watches, we still have not captured him. The thief is crafty; we must devise another plan.' The king then brought forth his daughter, adorned her with jewels and ornaments, and settled her in a chamber by the great water, with a crowd of attendants guarding and watching without negligence: 'Whoever covets her beauty will surely come to approach the girl. Embrace and seize him, call out, and have the people capture him.' On another night on a different day, the nephew quietly stole over. Using the water, he released a tree stump so that it drifted downstream. Shouting loudly, he made a splashing rush; the guards were startled and ran over, thinking it was a strange person, only to see a tree stump. This continued for several successive nights without change. When the guards fell asleep, the nephew rode a stump and arrived at the girl's chamber. The girl took hold of his clothes. The nephew told the girl: 'Why pull at my clothes? You may grasp my arm.' The nephew was innately cunning and fierce; in advance he had taken the arm of a dead person to give to the girl. She released the clothes, took hold of the arm, and shouted loudly. The guards were slow to awaken, and the nephew managed to escape. The next morning they reported the full details to the king. The king again decreed: 'This person's expedients are unrivaled among hundreds! We have sought him for so long without catching him—what is to be done?' The girl then became pregnant, and after ten months gave birth to a boy. The boy was extremely handsome. The king had a wet-nurse carry him around throughout the kingdom: 'If anyone sees and kisses him, bind and deliver him here.' The wet-nurse carried the child all day, but no one went up to kiss him. The nephew had become a baker standing under a baking oven. The child cried from hunger, and the wet-nurse, holding the child, approached the baking oven to buy cakes to feed him. The nephew, seeing the child, kissed him. The wet-nurse reported the full details to the king. The king again decreed: 'Why did you not bind and deliver him?' The wet-nurse replied: 'The child cried from hunger, and the baker gave him a cake and thereby kissed him. I did not know he was the thief, so on what grounds could I report him?' The king again sent the nurse out carrying the child: 'Whoever comes near the child, bind and bring him here.' The nephew sold fine wine, invited the nurse and the watchers, urged them to drink until they were drunkenly asleep, and then stole the child away. When they awoke and found the child gone, they reported the full details to the king. The king again decreed: 'You fools were greedy for and indulged in this maddening water! Not only did you fail to catch the thief, but you lost the child as well.' At that time, the nephew took the child and carried him to another kingdom. He presented himself before the king of that state, performing formal greetings, answering queries, and citing scriptures to expound doctrine. That king was greatly pleased and immediately bestowed upon him stipends and rank, appointing him as a great minister, and said to him: 'In my entire kingdom, none matches your wisdom and skill in expedients. I wish to give you either a minister's daughter or my own daughter in marriage; do as you please.' He replied: 'I would not presume. If Your Majesty takes pity on me, what I truly desire is the daughter of the king of such-and-such kingdom.' That king said: 'Splendid! It shall be as you wish.' The king then regarded him as his own son and sent an envoy to ask for that king's daughter. That king consented. An envoy was sent to welcome the king's daughter, and five hundred mounted escorts of the crown prince were ordered to be fully equipped and in order. The nephew was a bandit-minister, and he harbored fear: 'If I arrive in that kingdom, that king will surely recognize me, and I will be seized without doubt.' He then reported to his king: 'If Your Majesty sends me, you must order that the men, horses, garments, saddles, and bridles are entirely uniform without any difference; only then can we go to receive the bride.' The king approved of his words. The king ordered two hundred and fifty riders in front and two hundred and fifty riders behind. The nephew was in their midst, astride his horse without dismounting. The girl's father came out himself and repeatedly observed them. The king entered among the riders, personally took hold of the nephew, and brought him out: 'Are you he or not? Through all my previous expedients, why was it impossible to capture you?' Bowing his head, he replied: 'Indeed, it was I.' The king said: 'Your intelligence and craftiness are unrivaled under heaven.' The king gave his daughter in marriage according to his wish, and they became husband and wife. The Buddha addressed the monks: 'If you wish to know who the nephew was at that time, it was my own self. The king of the other kingdom was Śāriputra. The uncle was none other than Devadatta today. The father-in-law was King Śuddhodana. The mother-in-law was Queen Māyā. The wife was Gopā. The child was Rāhula.' When the Buddha spoke this, everyone rejoiced.

31.8

Also, the Mahāprajñāpāramitā-śāstra states: Because a bodhisattva contemplates and observes the marks of emptiness and impermanence, even though there are fine and wonderful five desires, defilements do not arise. For example, a king had a minister who concealed a fault of his own that people did not know. The king said: 'Bring me a fat sheep without tallow. If you cannot obtain one, I shall punish you for your crime.' The minister was wise: he tied up a large sheep, fed it well with grass and grain, and three times a day terrified it with a wolf. Although the sheep was well-fed, it became fat without tallow. He led the sheep and presented it to the king. The king sent someone to slaughter it, and it was indeed fat without tallow. The king asked: 'How could this be?' The minister answered with the above matter. A bodhisattva is also like this: seeing the wolf of impermanence, suffering, and emptiness, he causes the tallow of defilements to melt away and the flesh of all meritorious virtues to grow fat.

31.9

Also, the Sūtra of the Wise and the Foolish states: At that time, in the country of Magadha, there was an elder who fathered a boy whose features were fully complete and very lovely and venerable. On the day of his birth, a golden elephant naturally emerged from the treasury. His parents rejoiced, and based on this auspicious sign they established his name, calling him Elephant-Protector (Saṅgharakṣita). As the child grew older, the elephant also grew larger. When he was able to walk, the elephant also walked; in going out, entering, advancing, and stopping, they were never parted. If his mind had no use for it, it remained within. The elephant's excrement and urine produced only fine gold. Due to this cause, the storehouses were filled with treasures. When Elephant-Protector grew up, he often rode it east and west; its speed or slowness followed his will, suiting his wishes completely. King Ajātaśatru heard of this and asked to see it. Elephant-Protector and his father rode the elephant to the gate. The king allowed them to ride the elephant inside. Dismounting from the elephant, they bowed to the king. The king was greatly pleased, had them seated, bestowed food, and conversed briefly with them. In a short while, they took their leave of the king, wishing to depart. The king said to Elephant-Protector: 'Leave the elephant here; do not take it out.' Elephant-Protector, sorrowful, complied with the command and left it behind, walking out of the palace on foot. Before long, the elephant sank into the ground and leaped out outside the gate. Elephant-Protector was able to ride it again. Fearing that the king would harm him, Elephant-Protector took refuge with the Buddha, left the household life, and attained the path of an arhat. Whenever he sat in contemplation with the monks in the forest, the golden elephant was always before his eyes. When the people of Śrāvastī heard there was a golden elephant, they vied to gather and watch it, causing noisy commotion and disorder, which hindered their practice of the path. Then the monks reported the situation to the Buddha. The Buddha told Elephant-Protector: 'Because of this, trouble is caused; send it away and tell it to leave.' Yet it was unwilling to leave. The Buddha again told him: 'You may say to it: "My share of births is now ended; I have no further use for you." When spoken to three times like this, the elephant will vanish.' At that time Elephant-Protector complied with the instruction and spoke to it, and the golden elephant immediately entered the earth. The Buddha addressed the monks: 'What was the cause of this karmic retribution? In the past, in the time of Kāśyapa Buddha, when human lifespan was twenty thousand years, after that Buddha entered nirvāṇa, a stūpa-temple was erected. Within it was an elephant on which the Bodhisattva originally mounted to descend and enter the womb. At that time, the body of the elephant had some slight flaking and damage. There was a person who saw the damage and repaired and mended it, and thus made a vow: "May I in the future always dwell in noble status, with wealth and provisions never lacking." When that person's life ended, he was born in the heavens. When his heavenly lifespan was exhausted, he was reborn down into the world, always in noble status, with a golden elephant constantly guarding and protecting him in accordance with the time. The person who repaired the elephant at that time was this Elephant-Protector today. Because he repaired the elephant, he naturally received this investiture; and due to the respectful mind with which he served the Three Jewels, he has now met me and attained the path.'

31.10

Also, the Sūtra of Miscellaneous Precious Treasures states: In the past, King Nanda was intelligent and broadly learned, thoroughly practiced in all affairs. Relying on what he knew, he thought he had no rival, and none among the multitude of ministers could match him. At that time, the ministers said to the king: 'There is a monk named Nāgasena who is supremely intelligent without equal; he is now in the mountains.' The king wished to test him, so he sent someone carrying a vase of clarified butter, level and brimming to the top. The king thought: 'My wisdom is complete and full; who could add to me?' When [Nāga]sena received the clarified butter, he immediately understood his meaning. Among his disciples, he collected five hundred needles and thrust them into the clarified butter, and the butter did not overflow. He immediately sent it back to the king. When the king received it, he immediately understood his meaning. He immediately sent an envoy to invite [Nāga]sena, who thereupon arrived and was ushered into the palace. The king gave him coarse food; after eating three to five spoonfuls, [Nāga]sena said he had enough. Later, when fine and delicious food was offered, only then did he eat again. The king asked: 'Just now you said you had enough; why do you eat again now?' [Nāga]sena replied: 'Just now I was full with the coarse, but I was not full with the fine.' He then said to the king: 'Now, you may assemble all the people in the palace hall to fill it to the brim.' The king immediately called people, and they filled it completely until there was no remaining room. The king, being behind them, was about to step onto the palace hall; out of fear, the people all drew in their bellies, and the space within broadened so that it could accommodate more people. [Nāga]sena then said to the king: 'Coarse food is like the common people; fine food is like the king. When the common people see the king, who among them would not make way?' The king again asked: 'Between leaving the household life and remaining at home, which one attains the path?' [Nāga]sena replied: 'Both attain the path.' The king again asked: 'If both attain the path, what is the use of leaving the household life?' [Nāga]sena replied: 'For example, suppose a place is over three thousand li from here. If you send a vigorous youth riding a horse, carrying provisions, and grasping weapons, can he arrive quickly or not?' The king replied: 'He can.' 'If you send an old man riding an emaciated horse, and moreover without food provisions, could he arrive or not?' The king said: 'Even if he carried provisions, one would still fear he could not arrive, how much more so without food!' [Nāga]sena replied: 'Leaving the household life and attaining the path is like that vigorous youth; remaining at home and attaining the path is like that old man.' The king again asked: 'The sun above is of one single body; why is it extremely hot in summer and extremely cold in winter? Why are the days long in summer and short in winter?' [Nāga]sena replied: 'Mount Sumeru has an upper and a lower path. In summer, the sun travels on the upper path: the road is long, its movement is slow, and it shines upon the Golden Mountains; therefore the day is long and the heat is scorching. In winter, the sun travels on the lower path: the road is short, its movement is fast, and it shines upon the great ocean water; therefore the day is short and the cold is extreme.'

31.11

The verse says:

31.12

Concealing and escaping through skillful transformations, / adept at playing and galloping in the dark, / how magnificent are benevolence and wisdom! / The official arrests shifted and failed. / A sheep grew fat without tallow; / Elephant-Protector had heaven's accompaniment. / Moving through the dark, they seized their chances, / in resonance with the responses of their blessings. / In stillness, profound and quiet; / in motion, of spiritual brilliance. / Ceaselessly defying containment, / tirelessly growing in renown. / Their lineage returns to the primal origin; / their light is submerged, their shadows gone. / Their hiding and revealing cannot be fathomed; / the genuine and the counterfeit are hard to discern.

31.13

Circumstances of Sympathetic Resonances (briefly citing thirteen verifications)

31.14

The śramaṇa Liu Sahe of the Western Jin;
The śramaṇa Beidu of the Western Jin;
The śramaṇa Zhu Fotudeng of the Western Jin;
The śramaṇa Shi Daojin of the Western Jin;
The śramaṇa Shi Tanshi of the Song;
The śramaṇa Shi Falang of the Song;
The śramaṇa Shi Shaoshuo of the Song;
The śramaṇa Shi Hui'an of the Song;
Emperor Gao Yang of the Qi;
The śramaṇa Shi Senghui of the Qi;
The śramaṇa Shi Baozhi of the Liang;
The lay practitioner Xu Guang of the Wu;
Records from the *Soushen [ji]*, miscellaneous biographies, terrestrial immortals, and so forth.

31.15

To the west of Anren Temple in the suburbs of Cizhou from the Western Jin stands the shrine of Master Liu Sahe. Formerly, at the end of the Western Jin, this township was originally named Wencheng Commandery, which was the place where Duke Wen of Jin took refuge. Not far southeast of the prefecture, upon a high plain, there was a man named Sahe, surnamed Liu. His shrine is magnificent and complete with all adornments. At first, when Sahe lived as a householder, he did not differ from ordinary mortals: he constantly harboured thoughts of killing and utterly failed to uphold the Dharma. Sahe subsequently died of an illness, but after reviving he said: “In the nether realms, I saw Avalokiteśvara, who said: ‘Your sins are heavy, and you ought to suffer torment. Taking pity on your ignorance, I shall temporarily release you and let you live. In Luoxia, the city of Qi, Danyang, and Kuaiji, there are King Aśoka stupas in all these places. You may go worship them, and you will be able to escape your previous sins.’” After Sahe was restored to life, he reformed his former habits. The local customs were devoid of the Buddha; hearing that there was one in the suburbs, he promptly inquired fully. He skilfully explained and instructed, broadly displaying the benevolent breeze [of the teachings]. The Jihu barbarians were straightforward and upright, and they trusted and believed his words. Every year on the eighth day of the fourth month, a great assembly was held on the plain. Each brought wine, cakes, and pure offerings. From dawn until noon they drank heartily and revelled in music, and then presented the pure offerings; upon reaching noon, they stopped. After midday, they praised the Buddha together, singing hymns to the Three Jewels until dawn. Sahe then left the household life, receiving the Dharma name Huida. The common folk looked up to him, revering him as though he were the Buddha. Moreover, as he manifested anomalous traces, their arising faith grew ever deeper. By day, he expounded the Dharma to the multitude atop a high stupa; by night, he entered inside a silkworm cocoon to sink into seclusion. In the morning, he emerged from the cocoon, never resting in a lodging. Thus the folk called him "Suhe the Saint." “Suhe” is the Jihu name for a cocoon; because he lodged inside a cocoon, they named him after it. Therefore, at present, among their local customs, there is not a single village Buddhist hall that does not erect an image named the “Barbarian Master Buddha.” At present, the image erected in the shrine of Anren Temple is exceedingly majestic; the prayers, flowers, and incense of the local populace are manifold. Every year in the first month, it is carried in a palanquin to tour the villages, its departure and staying occurring at will and not depending on human effort. When it wishes to go to a certain village, two men can lift it; the creases on its forehead open, and its facial expression becomes mild and pleased. In that village, deaths and misfortunes will be few for the year. If it does not wish to go, ten men cannot move it; the creases on its forehead close, and its countenance looks sorrowful and grim. In that village, there will certainly be calamities and obstacles for the year. Thus the folk to this day constantly take this as an omen. The folk also consider him to be Avalokiteśvara, who adopted a guise to transform the world, hence named Huida. There is a scripture in one fascicle circulating among the populace, entirely in the barbarian tongue; those who read it comprehend it naturally. Therefore, along both banks of the Yellow River, across the territories of the eight prefectures of Ci, Xi, Lan, Shi, Dan, Yan, Sui, and Yin, none fail to revere it; all observe practices as expounded therein. Moreover, at present, earthen stupas are erected on all the plains, atop which cypress masts are placed and tied with silkworm cocoons, imitating Huida’s dwelling place. After opening up the Buddha-Dharma in his native land, Sahe travelled east to make offerings and pay homage at the various stupas of Danyang. That completed, he headed west to Liangzhou, where he paid homage to the mountain that produced the image at Yugu in Fanhe. Passing west of the desert suburbs of Jiuquan in Suzhou, he died. His bodily bones were minute and slender, shaped like mallow seeds, and all had holes through the center so that they could be strung together with cord. Therefore, at present, whenever the locals suffer calamities and obstacles, they go to the desert to search for them: finding one means an inauspicious death [for the afflicted], while failing to find one means an auspicious outcome. Once, a person who could not find one took one from the hand of the Avalokiteśvara image on the left. By nightfall, it was lost; when he looked for it the next morning, it had returned to the image’s hand. The local populace respects it all the more because of this.

31.16

The śramaṇa Beidu of the Western Jin was of unknown origin. He came from Jizhou and was about seventy years of age. He concealed his surname and personal name, and did not practice much religious cultivation, so people of the time did not hold him in high regard. Once he lodged at a family’s home that possessed a golden image. Rising in the morning, Beidu simply took it and walked off. The master of the house spurred his horse to pursue him; though Beidu walked along slowly, the horseman galloped without being able to catch up with him. Arriving at the river, he rode upon a small cup to cross the Mengjin Ford; on account of this, he was styled “Cup-Crossing” (Beidu). Later, when he was in Pengcheng, people frequently saw him; he was constantly on the roads, and no one knew where he lived. Carrying a reed basket, he went about his journeys alone, or during freezing snowfall he would break the ice to wash and bathe, his skin radiant and not distressed by the cold. During the Yixi reign-era, he stayed temporarily in Guangling. Liu Fan, the regional inspector and a native of Pei Commandery, had long heard of his name. Inviting him through an intermediary, Beidu still carried this basket. When people were ordered to lift and examine it, it was so heavy they could not bear its weight. Fan got up himself to look, only to see nothing but a worn, patched robe. When Beidu took his leave and departed, he lifted the basket with one hand as though holding a goose feather. He passed away around the beginning of the Yongjia reign-era. When Kumārajīva heard that Beidu was in Pengcheng, he sighed and said: “It has been several hundred years since that boy and I playfully parted!” Only then did people realize that Kumārajīva was also an extraordinary being.

31.17

At the end of the Western Jin, Zhu Fotudeng was a man from the Western Regions. In appearance, he seemed like a centenarian. On his left flank, there was a hole about four or five inches in circumference, plugged with silk. On fasting days, he would go to the water’s edge, pull out his intestines and stomach, wash them, and insert them back inside the hole. At night, he would remove the silk, and light would illuminate the entire room so that he could read books. Although he had not studied the full range of canonical texts, whenever he debated with various scholars, his analyses were unimpeded, and there were none who did not submit. During the Yongjia reign-era, he travelled to Luoxia. At that time, Shi Le was garrisoning troops north of the Yellow River, using slaughter to establish his authority, and monks and laypeople alike suffered death in no small numbers. Fotudeng went to the gates of his military camp and foretold good and bad fortune. Whenever Shi Le saw him, he bowed to him. Fotudeng converted him to uphold the Buddha, reduce cruelties, and lessen punishments; consequently, eight or nine out of ten in the Central Plains were spared. When Shi Le and Liu Yao were in conflict and harboured enmity against each other, Shi Le asked Fotudeng about it. Fotudeng said: “He can be captured alive; what cause is there for worry?” He smeared sesame oil on his palm and had him look into it: Liu Yao was seen bound, his elbows tied behind him with red cord. Ultimately he was captured, just as seen in the palm. On the eighth day of the fourth month in the fourth year of the Jianping reign-era, Shi Le went to the temple to bathe the Buddha. A light breeze made the bells ring with a sound. Looking around, he said to the assembly: “Do you understand the sound of these bells?” The bells said: ‘The state will suffer a great bereavement before this year is out.’ In the seventh month, Shi Le died. When Shi Hu ascended the throne, his reverence for the Master surpassed that of Shi Le: he bestowed upon him a carriage and palanquin, and permitted him to ride a horse when entering and exiting. All his auspicious portents and manifestations were exceedingly numerous; they are omitted here and not recounted. In his final years, Fotudeng told his disciples: “A disaster is about to occur; before that time arrives, I shall pass away.” When the wushen year arrived, the Crown Prince killed his younger brother by the same mother; in his fury, Shi Hu executed the Crown Prince along with his wife and children. The following year Shi Hu died, and the uprising of Ran Min broke out. Fotudeng was buried west of Ye. Another account says that on the day of Fotudeng’s death, merchants saw him in the shifting sands; when Shi Hu opened the coffin, he found only his robes and bowl. Living in the Central Plains during a time of ruinous turmoil, Fotudeng was able to spread benevolent transformation, and his virtue was supreme. Had he not been a consummate sage, how could he have rescued people from such suffering? In all, he built more than 980 temples; the monks and laypeople whom he aided and saved accounted for half the empire.

31.18

In Ye during the Western Jin, there was a disciple of Zhu Fotudeng named Daojin. His learning was versed in both inner and outer texts, and he was held in high esteem by Shi Hu. Once, when the subject of hermits was raised, Shi Hu said to Daojin: “There is a man named Yang Ke, who is a subject of mine. I have summoned him for more than ten years, yet he does not respect the royal command. I therefore went to visit him, but he insolently remained lying down. Although I am lacking in virtue, I rule over myriad states; wherever my chariot heads, heaven boils and the earth surges. Although I cannot make wood and stone bow down, what mere commoner is he to remain insolent for so long? Formerly, when Grand Duke Wang went to Qi, he first executed the hermit Hua Shi. The Grand Duke was a worthy and wise man; could he have been mistaken?” Daojin replied: “Formerly, Emperor Shun treated Puyi with honour, Yu visited Bochen, Marquis Wen of Wei bowed from his chariot to Duanmu Ganmu, and Emperor Guangwu of the Han praised Zhou Dang. Guan Ning did not answer the summons of the Cao family, and Huangfu Mi did not submit to the Jin dynasty. Two sages and four sovereigns all elevated their moral integrity, seeking thereby to curb greed and contention and elevate a spirit of purity. I hope Your Majesty will follow the virtue of Shun and Yu, and not imitate the Grand Duke’s use of punishment. A ruler’s actions must be recorded by the scribes; how could you allow the history of Zhao to lack a biography of recluses?” Shi Hu was pleased with his words; he immediately sent Yang Ke back to his dwelling place and assigned ten households to provide for him. When Daojin returned, he reported the matter fully to Fotudeng. Fotudeng smiled broadly and said: “Your words were good, but Ke’s life is hanging by a thread.” Later, during the military turmoil in Qinzhou, Ke’s disciples fled west carrying him on an ox; pursuing soldiers captured them and all were killed. Once, while napping during the day, Shi Hu dreamt of a flock of sheep carrying fish coming from the northeast. Upon awakening, he inquired about it with Fotudeng. Fotudeng said: “It is inauspicious. Will the Xianbei take possession of the Central Plains?” The Murong clan indeed established their capital there afterwards.

31.19

In Chang'an during the pseudo-Wei of the Song period, there was Shi Tanshi, a man from Guanzhong. From the time he left the household life, he had many anomalous traces. At the end of the Taiyuan reign-era of Emperor Xiaowu of Jin, he took several tens of texts of sūtras and vinaya to Liaodong, where he propagated the teachings, explicitly transmitted the Three Vehicles, and established the refuges and precepts. This was indeed the beginning of Gaogouli hearing the Path. In the beginning of the Yixi reign-era, he returned to Guanzhong to guide and instruct the Sanfu region. Tanshi's feet were whiter than his face; although he walked barefoot through mud and water, he was never stained with mud. Everyone under heaven called him the "White-Footed Upādhyāya." At that time, there was a man of Chang'an named Wang Hu. Several years after his uncle died, the uncle suddenly manifested his form and returned, taking Hu on a tour throughout the hells to show him the various karmic retributions. When Hu took his leave to return, his uncle said to him: “Now that you understand cause and effect, you must only serve the White-Footed Aranyaka.” Hu visited all the monks, and saw only Tanshi whose feet were whiter than his face; he thereupon served him. At the end of the Jin, Helian Bobo of the Xiongnu of Shuofang sighed in admiration of him, and released all the śramaṇas without killing any of them. Tanshi thereupon concealed himself in the mountains and marshes, practicing the dhūta austerities. Later, Tuoba Tao recaptured Chang'an, asserting his might over the Guan-Luo region. At that time, there was Cui Hao of Boling, who had practiced heterodox arts from his youth and was envious and hostile toward the Buddhist teaching. Occupying a post as a pseudo-minister, he was trusted and obeyed by Tao. He and Celestial Master Kou told Tao that the Buddhist transformation was of no benefit and harmed the people's welfare, urging him to abolish it. Tao, swayed by their words, wiped out the Buddha-Dharma in the seventh year of the pseudo-Taiping reign-era. He dispatched soldiers in various directions to burn and pillage monasteries, and ordered all monks and nuns within his domain to return to lay life. For those who went into hiding, he sent men to pursue and capture them; whenever caught, they were invariably beheaded. Within the entire realm, there were no longer any śramaṇas. Tanshi resided in seclusion in a deep, secluded place where soldiers could not reach. Toward the end of the Taiping era, Tanshi knew that the time for Tao's transformation was at hand. On the day of the New Year’s Court Assembly, he suddenly arrived at the palace gates leaning on his khakkhara. An official reported: “There is a Daoist whose feet are whiter than his face entering through the gates.” Tao ordered him to be dealt with according to military law, but repeated attempts to behead him caused no harm. They hastily reported this to Tao. Tao was greatly enraged and struck him himself with his personal sword, but his body suffered no injury whatsoever; only where the sword struck was there a trace like a cloth thread. At that time, tigers were kept in cages in the northern garden; Tao ordered Tanshi to be fed to them. The tigers all crouched down and never dared to approach. When the Celestial Master was tested by being brought near the cage, the tigers immediately roared. Tao then realized that the Buddhist transformation was exalted and sublime, beyond what Huang-Lao could equal. He immediately invited Tanshi up into the palace hall, prostrated at his feet, and repented of his misguided trust. Tanshi expounded the Dharma for him, clearly explaining cause and effect. Tao felt great shame and fear, and contracted a virulent pestilence. Next, Cui and Kou both developed foul diseases. Tao held that the fault lay with them, whereupon he wiped out both their families, extinguishing their entire clans. He issued a decree throughout the state to revive the true teaching. Shortly thereafter, Tao died. His grandson Tuoba Jun succeeded to the throne, and only then did he greatly promote the Buddha-Dharma, which has flourished down to the present day. Where Tanshi went afterwards is unknown.

31.20

During the Song, in Gaochang, there was the monk Falang, a native of Gaochang. From childhood his religious practice was refined and rigorous, and he displayed many auspicious omens. Concealing his radiance and holding his virtue within, none could fathom the level he had attained. Lang's master, the monk Fajin, was also an eminent and virtuous monk. Once, Jin had shut his door and was sitting alone, when suddenly he saw Lang before him. He asked where he had come from, and [Lang] replied: "I entered through the door's keyhole." He said that he had arrived together with monks from afar, and that since midday was approaching, he wished that food be provided for them. Jin immediately laid out food for them. He heard only the clatter of spoons and bowls, yet never saw a soul. Formerly, Huiyuan of Mount Lu had once given a kāṣāya to Jin, and Jin now offered it as a religious gift. Lang said: "The assembly of monks has already departed. You may collect it on another day." Later, he saw one of the kitchen workers come to Jin to take the robe, and Jin gave it to him. When he asked the regular kitchen workers, all said they had not taken it. Only then was it known that an ancient sage had taken it through a provisional manifestation. When the Wei caitiffs destroyed the Buddhist Dharma, Lang went west to Kucha. The king of Kucha had made a pact with the great meditation master of that realm: "If one who has attained the Way arrives, you must speak of it to me, and I shall make offerings to him." When Lang arrived, [the master] reported it to the king, and the king received him with the courtesies due a sage. Later, he died in Kucha. On the day his corpse was cremated, springs gushed forth from his two shoulders, soaring straight up to heaven. The multitude marveled at this as a rare occurrence. They gathered his bones and erected a stūpa. Later, men from the Western Regions came to this land and related this matter in full detail.

31.21

During the Song, at Tongling Temple on Mount Min, there was the monk Shaoshuo. His original surname was Shao and his personal name was Shuo; he was a native of the realm of Shikang. In appearance he seemed mad, but he was profoundly devoted to the Buddhist Dharma. Early in the Song, he renounced household life and entered the Way, calling himself Master Shuo. In coming, going, and traveling, he chose neither day nor night. If he went to someone's house and slept on the bare ground, a death would occur in that house. If he begged someone for a fine mat, a young child was certain to perish. People of the time all took these as omens. On the eighth day of the fourth month, during the procession of images in Chengdu, Shuo prostrated himself among the crowds and acted like a lion. On that same day, people in the commanderies and counties also saw Shuo acting like a lion, and only then realized he had divided his body. The regional inspector Xiao Huikai and Liu Mengming both revered and served him. Later, one morning, he suddenly went to Mengming wearing a cloth cap; shortly thereafter, Mengming died. Prior to this, Mengming's chief clerk, Shen Zhongyu, had modified the sentencing guidelines for flogging, making the ordinary statutes more severe. Shuo said to Yu: "The clamour of heaven and earth begins from this. If you abolish the flogging guidelines, you will become regional inspector." Yu believed him and abolished them. When Mengming died, Zhongyu indeed administered the affairs of the province. On the first day of the ninth month of the first year of the Yuanhui reign of the Song, he died at Tongling Temple on Mount Emei. Near death, he said to the man of the Way Fajin: "You may expose my corpse, but make haste to tie sandals firmly upon my feet." [Jin] subsequently complied with this. They brought out the corpse and placed it in the temple, but after two days its location was lost. Presently, a person came from Pi county and called upon Jin, saying: "Yesterday I saw Master Shuo in the marketplace wearing a sandal on one foot. He muttered carelessly, 'The lad was utterly useless and lost one of my sandals!'" Startled, Jin checked and questioned the śrāmaṇera. The śrāmaṇera replied: "Recently, when delivering the corpse, I was terrified, and could not tie the sandal on his right foot securely; in transporting him, I lost it." His strange and wondrous traces could not be fathomed. Later, no one knew how he ended his days.

31.22

During the Song, at Pipa Temple in Jiangling, there was the monk Hui'an. It is not known where he was from. At the age of eighteen he renounced household life and stayed at Pipa Temple in Jiangling. His manner was uncouth and vulgar, so people generally looked down on him. When he was a śrāmaṇera, whenever the monks sat in rows, they would send him to serve water. Holding an empty pitcher from top to bottom [of the row], the water was never exhausted. At that time, everyone considered it wondrous. When he received the full precepts, his miraculous traces gradually became manifest. On the final evening of every month, he would go up to the hall with his fellow student Huiji for the poṣadha. The hall doors were not yet open, but An took hold of Ji's finger and entered through a crack in the wall; their exit was the same. Ji was terrified and did not dare to utter a word. Later, when he went with Ji beneath the stūpa, he said to Ji: "I am to make a distant journey, and now bid you farewell." In an instant, divine beings, instrumental music, incense, and flowers were seen filling the sky. Ji was only terrified and could not speak at all. An also said to him: "Be careful not to speak recklessly of my past and present deeds. If you speak, there will surely be blame. Only in the southwest is there a white-robed layman who is a newly resolved bodhisattva; you may recount them in full to him." Thereupon he bade farewell and departed. He then accompanied merchants into Xiangchuan. On the journey, he fell critically ill with dysentery. He said to the master of the boat: "My life must surely end. Just take me out and set me on the bank; there is no need for a vessel or wood. Once my breath is cut off, give me to the insects and birds." The merchants followed his words, taking him out to lie by the bank. At night, they saw flames emerging from his body. Astounded and afraid, the merchants went to look and found his breath had already ceased. When the merchants traveled to Xiangdong, they saw An had already arrived before them. Presently, it was not known where he went. Later, Ji went to Zhiqi Temple and visited the recluse Liu Qiu of Nanyang, recounting the matter in full. Qiu immediately arose, bowed to him from afar, and said to Ji: "This is a man who has attained the Way, entering the fire-radiance samādhi."

31.23

The Qi Emperor bore the taboo name Yang. He was the second son of Gao Huan, prime minister of the Northern Wei. His elder brother of the primary wife, Cheng, was impetuous and haughty, and was killed by a slave; Yang succeeded to his position and acted as prime minister in his stead. When the dynastic tally of Wei was near its end, Yang built an altar in the southern suburbs; he divined and encountered the hexagram "Great Horizontal, Great Good Fortune", the hexagram of Emperor Wen of the Han. He then cast a golden image, which was completed in a single pouring. Wei Shou drafted the abdication text, and the Wei Emperor signed it; Yang then received his abdication, becoming the Great Qi. In all his conduct, one could not fathom whether he was foolish or wise. He entrusted the administration to the Vice Director of the Department of State Affairs, Yang Zunyan. The Emperor extensively erected Buddhist temples, and monks and nuns overflowed throughout the provinces. Winter and summer, offerings and the practice of the Way continued without end. At that time, the meditation master Chou admonished the Emperor, saying: "The Danapati has the governance of a rākṣasa. Look into the water and see for yourself." The Emperor followed his advice and saw a host of rākṣasas behind him. Thereupon, he ate no meat, banned falcons and hawks, eliminated official fishing and slaughtering, and purged all pungent and rank foods, barring them from entering the markets. The Emperor often sat in meditation, not emerging the entire day. He bowed to the Buddha and circumambulated as swiftly as the wind. He received the precepts from the Supreme Controller of the Clergy, Fashang, laying his face on the ground and having Shang step upon his hair as he conferred them. Earlier, when the Emperor was in Jinyang, he sent a man riding a camel, instructing him: "Go to the temple and fetch the sūtra case." The emissary asked where it was, and the Emperor said: "Let the camel leave the city at will." When he left, as if in a sudden dream, he reached a mountain. Halfway up the mountain was a Buddhist temple. A crowd of śrāmaṇeras shouted from afar: "Gao Yang's camel has arrived!" They led him to see an old monk, whom he bowed to. [The monk] asked: "How is Gao Yang doing as Son of Heaven?" He said: "Sagacious and enlightened." [The monk] asked: "Why have you come?" He said: "To fetch the sūtra case." The monk said: "Yang was lazy in reading sūtras when he was at the temple. Go to the east end of the northern row, and give it to him." The emissary returned to report his mission. Earlier, when the Emperor arrived at the Mujing Buddhist Temple in Gukou, there was a madman who had renounced himself, who could not speak. Suddenly he said to the Emperor: "I will go, and you will come after." That night the madman died, and the Emperor soon passed away in Jinyang.

31.24

During the Qi, in Jingzhou, there was the monk Senghui, surnamed Liu, though it is not known where he was from. He resided in Jingzhou for several decades. Liu Qiu of Nanyang, who was at Zhiqi Temple, invited him to come. People of the time had seen him for fifty or sixty years, yet in the end he did not age. His manner was casual, without much dignified deportment. Whenever he visited the home of a sick person, if he showed anger, the person would surely die; if he was pleased, the person would surely recover. People of the time all took this as an omen. As for those he had not yet met, he knew the state of life or death of their relatives. Hui once went to the riverbank and told the ferry warden that he sought to cross. Because the boat was small, the warden was pressed and had not yet crossed him over. In an instant, people already saw Hui on the opposite bank. Everyone marveled at this divine anomaly. Zhen Tian of Zhongshan and Che Tan of Nanping invited Hui on the same day, and Hui attended both. Later, when the two families verified and compared notes, they realized he had divided his body. During the Yongming era of the Qi, the Wenhui [Crown Prince] summoned him down to the capital. While traveling, he passed Baozhi. Zhi patted his back and said: "Son of the Red Dragon." He said nothing else. Later, when Hui returned to Jing[zhou], he encountered the Senior Clerk of the Pacification of the West, Liu Jingrui, and suddenly wept bitterly and threw himself upon him. A few days later, Rui was indeed killed by the regional inspector. Later, when he went south of the city of Xiangzhou, he suddenly said: "There are steles in the earth." The crowd tried digging, and indeed found two of them. Later, no one knew where Hui ended his days. Some say he died at Changsha Temple in Jiangling during the Yongyuan era.

31.25

In the capital of the Liang, there was the monk Baozhi. His original surname was Zhu, and he was a native of Jincheng. In his youth, he left home and dwelt at Daolin Temple in the capital, taking the śramaṇa Sengjian as his upādhyāya and cultivating the practice of dhyāna. Around the beginning of the Taishi era of the Song, he suddenly became eccentric and abnormal: his dwelling had no fixed place, his eating and drinking no regular times, and his hair grew several inches long. He would constantly walk barefoot through the streets and alleys, holding a monk’s staff hung with scissors and a mirror at the top, or sometimes with one or two bolts of silk. During the Jianyuan era of the Qi, extraordinary signs gradually began to appear. He would go for several days without eating yet show no sign of hunger. When he spoke with people, it seemed difficult to understand at first, but later everything came true. At times he composed verses whose words were like prophetic signs. Both gentry and commoners throughout the capital revered and served him. Emperor Wu of the Qi considered him to be misleading the masses, arrested him, and put him in the Jiankang prison. At dawn, however, people saw him walking into the marketplace, but when they went back to inspect the prison, Zhi was still inside. Zhi said to the jailer, “Outside the gate are two carrying-litters of food coming, with rice contained in gold bowls; you may take them.” Shortly thereafter, Crown Prince Wenhui of the Qi and Xiao Ziliang, Prince of Jingling, both sent gifts of food to Zhi, exactly as he had said. The Magistrate of Jiankang, Lü Wenxian, reported the matter to Emperor Wu, who thereupon welcomed him in and lodged him in the rear hall. Once, during a private banquet inside the palace from which attendants were excluded, Zhi also followed the crowd out; yet soon afterwards, on Mount Jingyang, there was still a Zhi along with seven monks. The emperor was enraged and sent people to investigate, but they lost track of him. A gate official reported, saying, “Zhi left long ago and is in the ministry, where he is just now smearing his body with ink.” At that time, the Controller of the Saṃgha, Faxian, wished to give a robe to Zhi, and sent an envoy to seek him at Longguang and Jibin temples; both said, “He stayed overnight yesterday and left this morning.” The envoy then went to the residence of the Earl of Guanghou, a place he frequented, to look for him. The earl said, “Zhi was here yesterday practicing the Path; this morning he is still sleeping and has not awoken.” The envoy returned and informed Faxian, and only then was it known that he had divided his body to lodge in three places overnight. Zhi once went walking bare-chested in the depths of winter. The śramaṇa Baoliang wished to present him with a patchwork robe, but before he could utter a word, Zhi suddenly came, pulled on the patchwork robe, and left. Also, he once went to someone begging for raw fish sashimi. After the person prepared it for him, he ate his fill and then vomited it up; when they looked back into the basin, the fish were swimming alive as before. Later, using Emperor Wu’s spiritual power, Zhi saw Emperor Gao in the subterranean realms constantly suffering the torment of awls and knives; from then on, the emperor abolished awls and knives forever. When the Qi Commandant of the Palace Guard, Hu Xie, fell ill, he invited Zhi. Zhi wrote on the letter of invitation, “Hu's bend [Hu qu].” The next day he did not go after all. On that day Xie died, and his corpse was carried back to his residence. Zhi said, “'Hu's bend' meant that tomorrow the corpse would go out.” The Qi Grand Commander's Marshal, Yin Qizhi, bid farewell to Zhi when accompanying Chen Xianda to garrison Jiangzhou. Zhi drew on a paper a tree with a crow on it, saying to him, “In an emergency, you may climb this.” Later, when Xianda rebelled, he left Qizhi behind to garrison the province. When Xianda was defeated, Qizhi fled in rebellion into Mount Lu. When the pursuing cavalry were about to catch up with him, Qizhi saw in the woods a tree with a crow on it, just like what Zhi had drawn. He realised [the omen] and climbed it; the crow did not fly away after all. Seeing the crow, the pursuers thought no one was there and turned back. In the end, he escaped. Sang Yan, a cavalry officer of the Qi, was about to plot a rebellion and went to visit Zhi. Seeing him from afar, Zhi ran and shouted loudly, “You besiege the palace city wanting to rebel! Your head will be chopped off and your belly split open!” Within ten days, the affair was exposed; Yan fled to Zhufang and was captured by someone, and indeed his head was chopped off and his belly split open. King Zhonglie of Poyang of the Liang often invited Zhi to his mansion for gatherings. Suddenly, [Zhi] ordered that vitex branches be sought with great urgency. Once obtained, they were placed on top of the gate, no one knowing why. Shortly afterwards, the King was appointed to go out as the Inspector of Jingzhou. Instances of his clear foreknowledge were numerous of this kind. Zhi often went back and forth between Xinghuang and Jingming temples. When the present emperor ascended the throne, he was treated with great reverence. Before this, under the Qi, Zhi's movements were often restricted. When the present emperor assumed the throne, he issued an edict saying: “Master Zhi’s traces are tied to the dust and defilement, while his spirit wanders in the dark and tranquil. Water and fire cannot burn or wet him; serpents and tigers cannot harm or frighten him. Speaking of his Buddhist principles, they are beyond the śrāvakas; talking of his recluse nature, he is an aloof transcendent and a gentleman of high virtue. How could he be constrained in vain by the ordinary sentiments of worldly men? How could people have been so petty and narrow to such an extreme? From now on, let him come and go, enter and leave at will, and do not restrain him any longer.” From then on, Zhi frequently entered and left the inner palace. In the winter of the fifth year of Tianjian, there was a drought. Sacrificial beasts and offerings were prepared completely, yet no rain fell. Zhi suddenly presented a memorial, saying: “Zhi’s illness will not heal, and he begs the authorities for a cure. If he does not report, the authorities should administer the whip and rod. I wish that the Śrīmālā-sūtra be expounded in the Huaguang Hall to pray for rain.” The emperor immediately ordered the śramaṇa Fayun to expound the Śrīmālā-sūtra; as soon as the lecture was finished, heavy snow fell that night. Zhi also said, “A basin of water is needed, with a knife placed on top.” Shortly thereafter, rain poured down heavily, sufficient for both highlands and lowlands. The emperor once asked Zhi, saying: “This disciple has not yet eliminated vexations and delusions; by what means can they be cured?” He replied, “Twelve.” Those with understanding took it to mean that the twelve links of dependent origination are the medicine to cure delusion. He asked again about the import of “twelve.” He replied, “It is in the writing of characters, the seasons, and the water clocks.” Those with understanding took it to mean that writing lies within the twelve hours of the day. He asked again, “When will this disciple attain a quiet mind to cultivate practice?” He replied, “The restraint of peace and bliss [anle jin].” Those with understanding took “restraint” to mean cessation; only when reaching peace and bliss will it cease. Later, when Fayun was expounding the Lotus Sūtra in Hualin Park, he reached the passage on “supposing a black wind.” Zhi suddenly asked whether the wind existed or not. [Fayun] replied, “In terms of conventional truth, it exists; in terms of ultimate truth, it does not.” Zhi went back and forth with him three or four times, then laughed and said, “If its substance is conditionally existent, this is also impossible to explain, and hard to explain.” The hidden meaning of his words was generally like this. The family of General Chen Zhenglu served Zhi very devotedly. Zhi once manifested his true form for them, with radiant marks like a statue of a bodhisattva. Zhi was well known and displayed wonders for more than forty years; the gentlemen and ladies who respectfully served him were beyond count. In the winter of the thirteenth year of Tianjian, he said to someone in the rear hall of the palace: “The bodhisattva is about to depart.” Before ten days had passed, he died without illness. His corpse was fragrant and soft, and his countenance joyful. Just before his death, he lit a candle and handed it to Wu Qing, an attendant at the rear palace gate. Qing immediately reported this. The emperor sighed and said, “The Great Master will stay no longer! Does the candle mean he entrusts the later affairs to me?” Thereupon he arranged a lavish funeral and buried him at Dulong Mound on Mount Zhong. Furthermore, he established the Kaishan Hermitage at the tomb site, decreed that Lu Chui compose an inscription for inside the tomb, and that Wang Yun engrave an inscription on a stele at the temple gate. Transmitted portraits of him remain everywhere. When Zhi first revealed his signs, he was about fifty or sixty years old, yet he did not age until the end; no one could fathom his age. There was Xu Jiedao, who lived north of the Jiuritai in the capital, who stated that he was Zhi’s maternal cousin, four years younger than Zhi. Calculating to the time of Zhi’s death, he must have been ninety-seven years old. (This one verification comes from the Liang Gaoseng Zhuan.)

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法苑珠林 — 道世, Classical Chinese