---
title: "五燈會元 · 舒州投子義青禪師"
description: "五燈會元由宋代高僧普濟編撰，成書於南宋淳祐年間，是中國禪宗重要典籍之一。該書彙編了禪宗五家七宗的傳法譜系與公案語錄，包括法眼、雲門、曹洞、臨濟、溈仰五宗祖師的機鋒對話與悟道因緣，系統整理了禪宗從初祖達摩至唐宋時期的發展脈絡。全書共二十卷，以燈燈相傳為喻，展現了禪宗心法傳承的歷史軌跡。作為研究唐宋禪宗思想的核心文獻，五燈會元不僅是佛教史學的重要資料，更是禪門修行者參究心性的權威指南，在中國佛教史上具有不可替代的地位。"
url: "https://rushiwowen.co/en/r/cma8xeewr0mail404vouiygu6"
---

### 舒州投子義青禪師

> Master Yiqing of Touzi, Shuzhou

青社李氏子。七齡頴異。往妙相寺出家。試經得度。習百法論。未幾歎曰。三祇塗遠。自困何益。乃入洛聽華嚴。義若貫珠。甞讀諸林菩薩偈。至即心自性。猛省曰。法離文字。寧可講乎。即棄游宗席。時圓鑑禪師居會聖巖。一夕。夢畜青色鷹。為吉徵。屆旦師來。鑑禮延之。令看外道問佛不問有言．不問無言因緣。經三載。一日問曰。汝記得話頭麼。試舉看。師擬對。鑑掩其口。師了然開悟。遂禮拜。鑑曰。汝妙悟玄機邪。師曰。設有也須吐却。時資侍者在旁。曰。青華嚴今日如病得汗。師回顧曰。合取狗口。若更忉忉。我即便嘔。自此復經三年。鑑時出洞下宗旨示之。悉皆妙契。付以大陽頂相皮履直裰。囑曰。代吾續其宗風。無久滯此。善宜護持。遂書偈送曰。須彌立太虗。日月輔而轉。羣峰漸倚他。白雲方改變。少林風起叢。曹溪洞簾卷。金鳳宿龍巢。宸苔豈車碾。令依圓通秀禪師。師至彼無所參問。唯嗜睡而已。執事白通曰。堂中有僧日睡。當行規法。通曰。是誰。曰。青上座。通曰。未可。待與按過。通即曳杖入堂。見師正睡。乃擊牀呵曰。我這裏無閑飯與上座。喫了打眠。師曰。和尚教某何為。通曰。何不參禪去。師曰。美食不中飽人喫。通曰。爭奈大有人不肯上座。師曰。待肯。堪作甚麼。通曰。上座曾見甚麼人來。師曰。浮山。通曰。怪得恁麼頑賴。遂握手相笑。歸方丈。由是道聲籍甚。初住白雲。次遷投子。上堂。召大眾曰。若論此事。如鸞鳳沖霄。不留其迹。羚羊挂角。那覓乎蹤。金龍不守於寒潭。玉兔豈棲於蟾影。其或主賓若立。須威音世外搖頭。問答言陳。仍玄路旁提為唱。若能如是。猶在半途。更若凝眸。不勞相見。上堂。宗乘若舉。凡聖絕蹤。樓閣門開。別戶相見。設使卷簾悟去。豈免旁觀。春遇桃華。重增眼病。所以古人道。向上一路。千聖不傳。諸仁者。既是不傳。為甚鐵牛走過新羅國裏。遂喝曰。達者須知暗裏驚。僧問。師唱誰家曲。宗風嗣阿誰。師曰。威音前一箭。射透兩重山。曰。如何是相傳底事。師曰。全因淮地月。得照郢陽春。曰。恁麼則入水見長人也。師曰。祇知荊玉異。那辨楚王心。僧禮拜。師以拂子擊之。復曰。更有問話者麼。如無。彼此著便。問。和尚適來拈香。祝延聖壽。且道當今年多少。師曰。月籠丹桂遠。星拱北辰高。曰。南山直聳齊天壽。東海洪波比福源。師曰。雙鳳朝金闕。青松古韻高。曰。聖壽已蒙師指示。治化乾坤事若何。師曰。不如緘口退。却是報皇恩。上堂。默沉陰界。語落深坑。擬著則天地懸殊。棄之則千生萬劫。洪波浩渺。白浪滔天。鎮海明珠。在誰收掌。良久。卓拄杖曰。百雜碎。上堂。孤村陋店。莫挂瓶盂。祖佛玄關。橫身直過。早是蘇秦觸塞。求路難回。項主臨江。何逃困命。諸禪德到這裏。進則落於天魔。退則沈於鬼趣。不進不退。正在死水中。諸仁者。作麼生得平穩去。良久曰。任從三尺雪。難壓寸靈松。師作五位頌并序。夫長天一色。星月何分。大地無偏。枯榮自異。是以法無異法。何迷悟而可及。心不自心。假言象而提唱。其言也。偏圓正到。兼帶叶通。其法也。不落是非。豈關萬象。幽旨既融於水月。宗源派混於金河。不墜虗凝回途復妙。頌曰。正中偏。星河橫轉月明前。彩氣夜交天未曉。隱裏俱彰暗裏圓。偏中正。夜半天明羞自影。朦朦霧色辨何分。混然不落秦時鏡。正中來。火裏金雞坐鳳臺。玄路倚空通脉上。披雲鳥道出塵埃。兼中至。雪仞籠身不回避。天然猛將兩不傷。暗裏全施善周備。兼中到。解走之人不觸道。一般拈掇與君殊。不落是非方始妙。師示寂。書偈曰。兩處住持。無可助道。珍重諸人。不須尋討。投筆奄息。闍維多靈異。茲不盡具。獲設利五色。同靈骨塔于寺北三峰庵。

> Qingshe, of the Li family, showed extraordinary intelligence at age seven and left home to become a monk at Miaoxiang Temple. After passing the scripture examination and being ordained, he studied the \*Treatise on the Hundred Dharmas\*. Before long, he sighed, "The path of the three kalpas is so distant—what's the use of tormenting myself?" So he went to Luoyang to study the \*Avatamsaka Sutra\*, grasping its meaning with ease, like threading pearls on a string. While reading the verse by Bodhisattva Zhulin, he came to the line "the mind itself is self-nature" and suddenly realized: "The Dharma transcends words—how can it be explained through lectures?" He then abandoned his scholarly pursuits and sought out Zen teachers. At that time, Zen Master Yuanjian was residing at Huisheng Cliff. One night, he dreamed of a blue eagle—an auspicious sign. The next day, the master arrived, and Yuanjian welcomed him with respect. He instructed him to contemplate the koan: "A heretic asked the Buddha a question—not concerning speech, and not concerning silence." After three years, Yuanjian one day asked, "Do you still remember the koan? Try to say something about it." As the master was about to respond, Yuanjian covered his mouth. The master was thoroughly awakened and bowed. Yuanjian said, "Have you realized the subtle mystery?" The master replied, "Even if I had, I'd spit it out." Attendant Zi, standing nearby, remarked, "Today, Qing Huayan is like a sick person who's finally sweated it out." The master turned and said, "Shut your dog mouth! If you keep yapping, I'll vomit." Another three years passed. Yuanjian then revealed the essential teachings of the Caodong lineage to him, which the master grasped perfectly. Yuanjian bestowed upon him the portrait of Dayang, along with leather sandals and a robe, instructing: "Carry on our lineage's style in my place. Don't linger here too long—protect and uphold it well." He then wrote a verse as a farewell: Mount Sumeru stands in the vast void, Sun and moon revolve in its orbit. Peaks gradually lean upon it, White clouds begin to transform. The wind of Shaolin stirs the thicket, The reed screen of Caoxi is rolled up. A gold phoenix nests in the dragon's den— How could imperial carriage wheels crush the royal moss? He was sent to study with Zen Master Tong of Yuanying. Upon arrival, the master didn't seek any instruction—he simply loved to sleep. The attendants reported to Tong: "There's a monk in the hall who sleeps all day. Shouldn't we enforce the rules?" Tong asked, "Who is it?" They said, "Senior Qing." Tong said, "Hold off—I'll deal with him myself." He then dragged his staff into the hall, saw the master sleeping, struck the bed, and scolded: "I don't have free meals here for you to eat and then nap!" The master asked, "What would you have me do, Master?" Tong said, "Why not go meditate?" The master replied, "Fine food doesn't tempt someone who's already full." Tong said, "But many people are displeased with you." The master said, "Once they approve, so what?" Tong asked, "Who have you studied with?" The master said, "Fushan." Tong said, "No wonder you're so stubborn and shameless!" He then clasped his hands and laughed, and they returned to the abbot's quarters together. From then on, his reputation flourished. He first resided at Baiyun, then moved to Touzi. Ascending the hall, he addressed the assembly: "If we speak of this matter, it's like a phoenix soaring into the sky, leaving no trace. An antelope hangs its horns—where can you find its tracks? A golden dragon doesn't stay in a cold pool; a jade rabbit doesn't roost in the moon's shadow. If guest and host must be established, you'd have to shake your head beyond the world of Weiyin. If questions and answers are expressed, it's just raising another path alongside. Even so, you're still halfway there. If you stare further, there's no need for us to meet." Ascending the hall: "If the great matter of the school is raised, saints and ordinary beings all vanish without a trace. When the tower gate opens, you see through another door. Even if you awaken by rolling up a curtain, how could you escape being watched by bystanders? When spring meets the peach blossoms, it only worsens eye ailments. Thus the ancients said: 'The path above—transmitted by no sage.' Good people, if it's not transmitted, how is it that the iron ox has crossed into Silla?" He then shouted: "Those who understand must know the shock in the dark." A monk asked, "Whose song does the master sing? Whose style does your lineage inherit?" The master said, "An arrow loosed before Weiyin pierces two mountains." "What is the hereditary matter?" The master said, "All depends on the moon of Huai shining on the spring of Ying." "Then one enters water and sees the long man." The master said, "You only know the jade of Jing is rare—how can you discern the King of Chu's heart?" The monk bowed. The master struck him with his whisk and added, "Any more questions? If not, we're even." A monk asked, "Master, you just offered incense to celebrate the emperor's longevity. Tell me—how old is he this year?" The master said, "The moon veils the osmanthus afar; stars surround the North Star above." The monk said, "The Southern Mountain stands tall, matching the emperor's years; the Eastern Sea's waves mirror the source of his blessings." The master said, "Twin phoenixes face the golden gate; old pines resound with ancient tune." The monk asked, "You've already pointed out his sacred longevity—what about the state of governance under his rule?" The master said, "Better to shut up and retreat—that's how to repay the emperor's grace." Ascending the hall: "Silence sinks you into the dark realm; words drop you into a deep pit. To grasp at it, heaven and earth part ways; to abandon it, a thousand lives and ten thousand eons pass. The great waves stretch vast, white billows reach the sky. Who holds the pearl that calms the sea?" After a while, he struck his staff and said: "Smashed to pieces." Ascending the hall: "In a lonely village with a shabby inn, don't hang your water bottle or bowl. At the ancestral gate of Buddhas, pass straight through with your body. That's already like Su Qin hitting the frontier pass, seeking a way yet finding no return; or Xiang Yu facing the river—how to escape his doomed fate? Good Zen practitioners, at this point, to advance is to fall into demon realms; to retreat is to sink into ghost realms. Not advancing, not retreating—you're stuck in dead water. Good people, how do you find a steady footing?" After a long pause, he said: "Even three feet of snow cannot crush an inch of living pine." The master composed a verse on the Five Positions with an introduction: > The sky is a single color—how to distinguish stars from moon? > The earth has no partiality—yet withering and flourishing differ of themselves. > Thus, Dharma is not different from Dharma—how can delusion or awakening reach it? > The mind is not itself—it relies on words and forms for expression. > Its words: partial, complete, upright, and arrived; side-by-side, and harmonious throughout. > Its Dharma: never falling into right or wrong—how could it concern the myriad phenomena? > The subtle meaning already merges like water and moon; > The lineage's source flows mixed into the golden river. > Not falling into empty stillness, returning to the path, restored to wonder. The verse: > The correct within the partial— > Stars and river traverse, moon before bright. > Colored energy crosses at night, heaven not yet dawn. > Hidden yet fully manifest, dark yet round. > The partial within the correct— > Midnight sky brightens, shaming its own shadow. > In hazy mist, what distinction can be discerned? > Blended wholly, it doesn't fall into the mirror of Qin. > The correct arriving within— > Fire-born golden rooster perches on the phoenix platform. > The mysterious path leans on emptiness, connecting veins above; > Parting clouds, a bird's path leaves the dust. > The partial arriving within— > Snowy peaks cloak the body, no avoidance. > A natural warrior, neither side harm; > In darkness, complete skill is fully applied. > The partial and correct both arrive— > One who knows how to walk doesn't touch the path. > The same gesture—yet distinguished from yours; > Not falling into right or wrong—only then is it subtle. When the master was about to pass away, he wrote a verse: > Having led two monasteries, > I could offer no aid on the path. > Treasure yourselves, everyone— > No need to search for me. He put down his brush and passed away. His cremation produced many wondrous signs, too numerous to fully record. Five-colored relics and his bones were enshrined in a stupa at Sanfeng Hut, north of the monastery.