Preface by Renhe Shen Mengpan

This eight-line poem reveals that among the three teachings, Zen is the most profound. Now, during the reign of Emperor Gaozong of the Great Song Dynasty, there was a Golden-Body Arhat who, manifesting from Mount Tiantai, appeared in Lin'an Prefecture to display his sacred power. Mount Tiantai is located in Taizhou Prefecture, eastern Zhejiang. At Guoqing Temple on the mountain, there was an elder monk named Yiben, also known as Fakong—a living Buddha cultivated over countless lifetimes. As the year drew to a close, dark clouds gathered densely, and snow began to swirl and fall. The elder sat alone in his abbot's quarters and instructed the kitchen to prepare the evening meal. At the sound of the cloud-board, all the monks assembled. After the meal in the dining hall, the elder returned to sit in his meditation chair in the abbot's quarters. As his attendant served tea, suddenly a thunderous crash echoed like a clap of lightning. The elder asked, "What was that sound?" He then walked with his attendant to the Dharma Hall, ascended to the Buddha Hall, and entered the Arhat Hall, where they found an Arhat statue toppled over with its chair. Only the elder understood the hidden meaning, but he pretended otherwise, saying, "We shall address this later." Returning to the abbot's quarters, he ordered the attendant to light incense and candles. By then, the snow was falling even heavier. As a poem describes:

The elder sat upright in his meditation chair. He closed his eyes, lowered his brows, and entered a state of deep concentration. After a short while, he returned and said, "He hasn't gone far." The monks said, "We are dull-minded and shallow in the Way, and do not understand the meaning of this. We wish to hear the details." The elder said, "It's fine to speak of it. Just now, the Purple-Footed Arhat, weary of stillness and longing for action, has already gone to another place. In the future, if you also come to know this, this old monk will wait for over a month and then personally go to deliver a message to him." The assembly then dispersed.

Now, let us speak of Li Maochun of Tiantai County, Taizhou Prefecture. He was a descendant of Li Fuma from the reign of Emperor Gaozong and held the official position of Advisor in the Eastern Palace. He was a man of pure and honest character and did not wish to serve as an official. He resigned his post and retired to Tiantai Mountain. He had only his wife, Lady Wang, who was over thirty years old and had not yet borne any children. They often prayed to the gods and sought blessings from the Buddha. Suddenly, one night, Lady Wang dreamed of swallowing the sunlight, and from then on she became pregnant. After ten months, she gave birth. It was the first watch of the night on the eighth day of the twelfth month in the third year of Emperor Guangzong of the Song Dynasty. A boy was born, filling the room with red light and auspicious energy overflowing the gate. Advisor Li was overjoyed.

After about a month, the elder from Guoqing Temple came to visit. Advisor Li welcomed him, and after tea was served in the main hall, the elder said, "I have recently heard of Your Excellency's joy of gaining a son. I have come specifically to offer congratulations and to request a look at him. May I?" Advisor Li said, "I am grateful for your esteemed kindness, Master. However, my son has only just left the womb, and his body is not yet pure. How dare I let him see you, Master?" The elder said, "I wish to see him. What harm could there be?" Advisor Li said, "Please wait a moment, Master." He then went inside. Wang Anshi was the elder brother of Advisor Li's wife. Advisor Li said, "The elder from Guoqing Temple wishes to see the child. I don't know if it's appropriate?" Anshi said, "That monk's virtue and attainment are lofty. If he wishes to see the child, do not be reluctant, sir." So, Advisor Li ordered a maidservant to bring the child out to show the monk. The elder hurriedly took the child in his hands and said, "You have quick feet. Do not stray from the path." The child merely smiled slightly. After looking at him, the elder handed him back to the maidservant and said, "This child will in the future penetrate heaven and earth, transcend the ordinary and enter the sagehood. This old monk will give him a name: Xiuyuan (Cultivating the Origin), so that he may cultivate his fundamental destiny and original spirit." Advisor Li rose and thanked him. The elder took his leave. Advisor Li said, "I would have kept you, Master, for a vegetarian meal, but unfortunately, my household is preparing a meat feast. I shall visit the temple another time." The elder said, "This old monk will return to the West in October. If you, sir, do not mind, I would be grateful if you would see me off." Advisor Li said, "Master, your years are not yet many. You should rightly enjoy peace and blessings." They parted, and the elder returned to the temple.

That day, Advisor Li set out a lavish feast to entertain his relatives and friends, which lasted until evening before dispersing. A few days after the elder returned to the temple, it was the time of the Lantern Festival. The elder ascended the seat in the Dharma Hall. After the drum was struck three times, the assembly of monks gathered like clouds, proceeding in single file. Incense was burned, and they stood in two rows. The great assembly listened quietly.

On the fifteenth of the first month, lanterns are lit, Everywhere, the people rejoice in peace and prosperity. On this auspicious festival, no need for elaborate tales— Just one phrase: "Return, come back!"

Once returned, never to come again— One's own affairs are known to oneself alone. If others were to know of this, Surely they would gossip and judge.

So, better not to speak, lest one be called foolish. The matter of life and death needs no guessing. This mountain monk, at eighteen, heads west to return, Specially informing all the mountains to come in turn.

Speaking of life and death, who truly understands? Each and every one originally walks this path. How many have been hurried along by time? Yet green waters and blue mountains remain as before.

Blue mountains, green waters— The King of the Underworld has no face to show. I send this message to all: practice diligently early, That in the next life we may together reach the Land of Ultimate Bliss.

The elder finished reciting. All present knelt down and pleaded, "Master, we beg you to stay with us for a few more decades." The elder replied, "Death is predetermined. How can it be delayed?" The monks wept.

The elder instructed his attendant to copy down his Dharma words and quickly inform the various mountain monasteries, asking them to come see him off early on the eighteenth day. That day, the elder descended from the Dharma seat and ordered the preparation of a niche to be completed.

On the eighteenth day, monks from the various mountains all arrived. Lay devotee Li Zanshan also came. After the meal offering, they entered the abbot's quarters to meet him.

The elder bathed, changed his robes, and sat upright on the meditation chair in the Hall of Peace and Joy. Monks from the mountains and all others stood to his left and right, crowding around him in succession.

The elder called his five disciples and said, "Divide the robes, bowls, and other belongings equally among yourselves. The temple supervisor should record the count. Each of you five must be cautious and disciplined in your conduct—do not act recklessly." The disciples wept bitterly.

The elder said, "The time has come. Quickly light incense and candles." The monks bid farewell and bowed, chanting sutras in unison.

The elder asked for paper and brush, then composed a quatrain:

The writing was completed. It was exactly noon. With eyes lowered and brows relaxed, he entered perfect stillness. All present raised their voices in mourning, and requested that his Dharma body be placed in the coffin. On the ninth day of the second month, which was the twenty-first day after his passing, the sky was clear and bright, and people from near and far all arrived to attend the funeral procession. They invited Elder Daoqing of the Jiyuan Temple to guide the way. The elder stood upon a sedan chair and said, "Everyone, listen carefully."

In the second month, willows are charming and flowers fair, Silks and brocades adorn the famous garden square. Yet the master cares not for spring's lovely view, Releasing his hand, returning west to the source true.

Reverend State Preceptor Elder, Monk Xingkong, awakened spirit. Since the original nature is already empty, What affairs could there be to hold? Yet how can the Zen mind, bright and clear, not endure? Reciting the Śūraṅgama Sūtra, Writing characters like ancient script. Taking the Buddha as kin, Springs and stones as friends. For sixty-nine years, No beauty, no ugliness. When heaven's decree approached its end, He knew he could not hold on. Setting the date of death while still alive, Truly, his words came to pass. Sitting steady in the niche, no need to go. Do not be foolish, listen to my guidance clear.

Ah, the Western Paradise is your familiar path; no need for Amitabha to extend a hand.

The ceremony concluded. The crowd remained heavy with sorrow as they slowly made their way to the mountain's transformation site. They placed the casket in a secluded grove of pine trees. The five disciples then requested the Elder of Cold Stone Cliff to conduct the fire offering. Standing upon the palanquin, the elder raised a torch and declared: "Listen, everyone."

The flames blaze high, nameless they roar. Sitting in the shrine, startled or not? Looking back, not knowing—is it wrong? Clear and bright, why ask another?

In reverence, to the Great Monk of Perfect Nirvana, Master Ben, the awakened spirit of the Purple Mist Hall. Originally a descendant of Confucian scholars from Nanchang, He returned to the Zen school of the Eastern Land. Free from worldly dust, his nature was empty— Truly a seed of the Buddha’s path. Without joy or anger, gentle in spirit, With talent and learning, calm and composed. He claimed a famous mountain, delighting within it— Sixty-nine years, a single dream.

Ah, not to follow the flowing stream into the Tiantai realm, but to ride this light of fire back to the Pure Land.

When he finished reciting, they lit the fire. Relics fell like rain, and from within the flames, a monk appeared, rising into the air. He cried out, "I am deeply indebted to all of you!" Then he said, "Li Maochun, your son is truly not destined for officialdom. He can only become a monk. Do not make a mistake in this. Should he renounce the world, he should seek out the master Yuan Xiatang of Yin Bie Peak." With that, he soared away on a green cloud.

The philanthropist, having received the elder's parting words from the sky, remembered them clearly, never forgetting. Unnoticed, the years passed until Xiuyuan was eight years old. He had a maternal uncle, Wang Anshi, whose son was ten. The philanthropist discussed with Anshi about hiring a teacher to instruct both sons. Xiuyuan entered school and there was no book he did not read. By the time he was twelve, he could compose poetry and essays, writing with ease as soon as he took up the brush.

When the Qingming Festival arrived, the philanthropist ordered a feast to be set to entertain the teacher. He prepared gifts of gold, silver, silk, and bolts of cloth as tuition payment. The teacher's home was not far. The next day, the philanthropist told the two boys to escort the teacher back. On their return, they reached the entrance of Qiyuan Temple. Wang Quan said, "Younger brother, though you were born here, you have never visited this temple. Now it's Qingming, a fine time. Why don't we go in and wander about? Wouldn't that be pleasant?" Xiuyuan replied, "That sounds wonderful." Hand in hand, the two entered the temple, ascended the steps, entered the hall, and wandered through the winding corridors. As they were about to enter the abbot's quarters, two men suddenly appeared and said, "There are officials inside. We advise you young masters not to enter." Xiuyuan said, "We are attendants from the household of Philanthropist Li. Who is inside that we cannot see without hindrance?" So they entered the abbot's quarters.

Inside, they saw a couch in the center. On the left sat an official, on the right sat a monk. Lined up on both sides were several dozen novice monks, each holding paper and brush. Xiuyuan stepped forward, bowed, and asked, "Why are there so many novices gathered here?" The elder monk replied, "They are here contending for merit." Xiuyuan said, "This student is young and does not understand what merit they are contending for." The elder said, "This gentleman here, while traveling at sea, reached the Blackwater Ocean when suddenly wild waves arose. He made a vow, and only then did he return home safely. He has donated one thousand strings of cash to request an ordination certificate and to shave and ordain one monk. Seeing the many novices here are varied, he composed a lyric poem, leaving the last two lines unfinished. Whoever can complete it will be the one tonsured as a monk." Xiuyuan asked, "Where is this poem? May I be permitted to see it?"

Seeing that Xiuyuan was handsome and elegant, and his speech was free and easy, the official ordered the poem to be brought and given to Xiuyuan. Xiuyuan took it and looked. It was to the tune of "The River All Red." The lyrics said:

Building a hut by the stream and hills, I ask for just a few thatched rooms. Here, I sing freely with the bright moon and clear breeze, bamboo shaded in green. In stillness, I wash away the eyes that seek fame and gain. When weary, I sleep deeply, my belly full of poetry and books. Let coarse clothes and simple meals suffice this life—unbound, unconfined.

Long, clear days—I seek the chessboard’s play. Deep, quiet nights—I pluck the zither’s strings. When I reckon human feelings, they shift like rain and turning clouds. In the end, like Yuanming, I shall return— still, autumn chrysanthemums grace the garden paths. I smile at Bian He, before the King of Chu knew him— just a rough jade from Jing Mountain.

After reading it, Xiuyuan then added two more lines:

The officials and elders were startled at the sight and invited Xiuyuan and Wang Quan to sit. The elder asked, "May I know your names and residences, gentlemen?"

Xiuyuan replied, "This is my cousin, Wang Quan, son of Wang Anshi. I am Li Xiuyuan, son of Li Zanshan."

The elder said, "Now I understand. Over ten years ago, when the elder of Guoqing Temple passed away, he mentioned to your honorable family that the young master should become a monk. Now that you have completed this verse, it is fitting for you to be ordained."

Xiuyuan said, "My father has only me, his one son. How could I possibly become a monk?"

The elder said, "I once visited your home and was received with courtesy by your esteemed father. How could I dare to be presumptuous now? If you two gentlemen do not mind, you may stay at our humble temple for the night."

Xiuyuan said, "We were seeing off our teacher and passed by your temple, taking a brief rest. My father is unaware, so how could I decide without his permission?"

The elder saw them out the temple gate. Returning to his quarters, he said to the officials, "This young man is extraordinary; his future potential is immeasurable. If his father were willing to donate a thousand strings of cash for his ordination, it would bring honor to your family and glory to our humble temple. But I wonder if he would agree to become a monk."

Meanwhile, Xiuyuan and his cousin returned home and paid respects to their parents. Zanshan asked, "Why have you two returned so late?"

Xiuyuan replied, "Our teacher treated us to a meal. On our way back, we passed by Qiyuan Temple and went in to look around. We happened upon some young novices arguing over a verse in the abbot's quarters, and I added two lines on a whim. That delayed us. The elder of that temple said he would come tomorrow to speak with you, father."

Zanshan said, "You only know part of the story, my child. There are over three hundred temples on Tiantai Mountain. In the past, Elder Xingkong of Guoqing Temple and Monk Hanyan have both passed away. Nowadays, Qiyuan Temple's elder is highly respected. How could you take him lightly?"

Wang Quan said, "Uncle, do not worry. I also know that my cousin's two lines startled the elder. If he comes tomorrow, I will handle it." Zanshan smiled and let the matter rest.

The next morning, it was reported that the elder of Qiyuan Temple had arrived. Zanshan went out to welcome him. After exchanging greetings, the elder said, "Yesterday, your son visited our humble temple. By chance, some novices were arguing over a verse, and your son completed it. Therefore, I have come specially to request that your son become a monk. What is your honorable opinion?"

Zanshan said, "I am deeply grateful for your kindness. However, I have only this one son and cannot comply."

The elder said, "As the saying goes, 'When one son becomes a monk, nine generations ascend to heaven.' Moreover, over ten years ago, Elder Xingkong mentioned this. Why have you forgotten, sir?"

During their conversation, Xiuyuan suddenly emerged from behind a screen, stepped forward, bowed, and said, "I am grateful for your kindness, elder. However, there are three reasons why I cannot become a monk."

The elder asked, "What are they?"

Xiuyuan said, "First, I am not yet of age and do not understand serious matters. Second, my parents are alive and need someone to care for them. Third, after observing the monks of Tiantai, I find no one suitable to be my teacher. For these three reasons, I cannot comply."

The elder said, "I am already sixty years old. How could I not be your teacher?"

Xiuyuan said, "I have a question for you, elder."

The elder said, "Young master, why are you so arrogant at such a young age?"

Xiuyuan stepped forward and asked, "Venerable elder, how old are you?"

The elder replied, "Sixty-two."

Xiuyuan said, "Since you are sixty-two, where was your original spiritual light before that?"

The elder blushed and could not answer for a long while.

Xiuyuan said, "If you cannot understand even this one question, how can you be my teacher?"

The elder was flustered and felt utterly embarrassed. Zanshan offered a meal, but the elder firmly declined and returned to the temple, feeling unhappy. He lay in bed for three days.

Then it was reported that Elder Daojing of Guanyin Temple had come for a visit. After they met and sat down, tea was served. Daojing said, "I heard you were unwell, brother, so I came to visit. What caused your illness?"

Elder Daoqing said, "Thank you for your concern. It's a long story." He recounted everything in detail.

Daojing said, "If that's the case, what's so difficult about it?"

Daoqing said, "Brother, do not underestimate him. This young man's talent and learning are truly outstanding."

Just then, it was reported that Li Zanshan and his son had come to visit. The elder said, "Please show them in." After exchanging greetings and serving tea, Zanshan said, "My son was disrespectful yesterday. I hope you will forgive his youthful arrogance."

Daoqing said, "I am ashamed, ashamed."

Daojing asked, "Is this the young master?"

Daoqing said, "Yes."

Daojing asked, "What is his name?"

Xiuyuan said, "My name is Xiuyuan."

Daojing said, "Xiuyuan—'cultivating the original.' The original destiny is not easily cultivated."

Xiuyuan retorted sharply, "Your name is Daojing—'the purity of the Way.' To be born in ultimate purity, one must uphold the precepts of the Way."

Both elders stood up in awe and respect. After the meal, Zanshan returned home.

Xiuyuan spent his days studying and composing poetry in the academy. Before he knew it, he was eighteen. Unfortunately, his mother, Lady Wang, fell ill and passed away at the age of fifty-one. After the mourning period for his mother ended, his father also passed away. His maternal uncle, Wang Anshi, repeatedly urged him to marry, but Xiuyuan paid no heed. He often visited various temples, searching for Elders Yin Biefeng and Yuan Xiatang, but could not find them.

After half a year, he finally learned their whereabouts: Monk Yin Biefeng was the abbot of Jing Mountain Temple in Lin'an, and Yuan Xiatang, who had previously been the abbot of Tiger Hill Temple in Suzhou, was now at Lingyin Temple.

Xiuyuan informed his uncle, Wang Anshi, "I wish to visit these two elders."

Anshi said, "This may not be entirely wise, nor is it necessarily appropriate. But with so much family property and no other brothers to manage it, who will take care of things?"

Xiuyuan said, "Fortunately, my capable cousin is good at managing household affairs. I believe it will be fine. I have decided to depart on the auspicious day of February thirteenth."

Anshi said, "Since you are leaving so soon, you must prepare your clothes. I am too old, so I will have Wang Quan accompany you."

Xiuyuan said, "There is no one else at home. Why should my cousin go? One or two attendants will suffice."

When the auspicious day arrived, Xiuyuan took some money, bid farewell to his uncle, and set off. Anshi repeatedly urged him to be careful, and Xiuyuan listened attentively.

They crossed the Qiantang River, went ashore, entered the city, and stayed at an inn near Xinguang Bridge. The next morning, Xiuyuan, accompanied by Wang Quan and attendants, wandered around the city for leisure and returned in the evening.

He said to the innkeeper, "I have long admired the scenic beauty of Lin'an and came here for leisure."

The innkeeper said, "In this city, there are mostly government offices and shops. What is there to see? If you want to enjoy yourself, why not visit the temples on the southwestern mountains and West Lake? The scenery of West Lake is rare in the world."

Xiuyuan asked, "Where is Lingyin Temple?"

The innkeeper said, "That temple is right opposite Feilai Peak on the western mountain."

Xiuyuan asked, "How do I get there?"

The innkeeper said, "Go out through Qiantang Gate, and you will reach West Lake. Pass by Baoshu Pagoda, follow the northern shore of the lake to the tomb of General Yue Fei, then head west to Lingyin Temple. In front of it are Stone Buddha Cave, Cold Spring Pavilion, and Calling Ape Cave—endless beautiful scenery, with clear waters and lush mountains."

Xiuyuan asked, "How many monks are there in that temple?"

The innkeeper said, "About three to five hundred. Last year, the abbot passed away, and they invited a monk named Yuan Xiatang from Tiger Hill in Suzhou. This monk knows the past and the future."

Xiuyuan said, "I will go to see him tomorrow morning."

Xiuyuan dressed as a scholar and, accompanied by his attendants, set out through Qiantang Gate. It was March, with clear skies and a gentle breeze. Xiuyuan turned to his attendants and said, "I have heard of the scenic beauty of Hangzhou's West Lake, and it truly lives up to its reputation."

They entered Zhaoqing Temple and saw the statue of Great Compassion. He recited a verse:

The inscription completed, I walked to the Great Buddha Temple. Seeing the half-body statue of the great Buddha, I composed this verse:

The inscription completed, I wandered past Feilai Peak and sat in the Cold Spring Pavilion. Then I looked up and saw, on the side of the pavilion, a poem by the Tang dynasty sage Bai Juyi, which said:

Xiu Yuan kept marveling at the beautiful scenery. He saw many monks following the elder into the temple, with only one monk left behind. Xiu Yuan hurried forward and bowed, saying, “May I ask where this elder has just come from?”

The monk replied, “He is the new abbot of this temple, Elder Yuan Xiatang. He was invited to perform a memorial ceremony at Jingshan Temple because Abbot Yin Biefeng passed away to the West, and he has just returned.”

Yuan said, “This student wishes to see the elder. May I trouble you to introduce me?”

The monk went forward to inform the elder, and the elder asked him to be brought in. Yuan entered and bowed. The elder asked, “Where have you come from, scholar?”

Yuan replied, “Disciple has come specially from Tiantai Mountain. I am a descendant of Consort Li and the son of Zan Shan. My childhood name is Xiu Yuan. Unfortunately, both my parents have passed away, and I am determined to leave the household life. Recently, I heard that you, my teacher, have taken up residence here, so I have come especially to pay my respects and seek your guidance. I humbly ask for your compassionate consideration.”

The elder said, “You may not know that leaving home is easy, but meditation is difficult. There are over three hundred temples at Tiantai Mountain. Why abandon what is near to seek what is far?”

Yuan said, “When I was young, I received the final instructions of Elder Guoqing, so I have come especially to seek your guidance.”

The elder asked, “Who are those attendants behind you?”

Yuan replied, “They are humble servants I brought from home.”

The elder said, “Every family has its own affairs. Send them back quickly.”

Yuan then took out some money he had brought and offered it to the elder to cover expenses for the vegetarian feast, ordination certificate, and temple funds. The remainder he gave to the servants for travel expenses.

The servants said, “We followed you, sir, all the way here, hoping to return home in glory. How could we expect you to become a monk in this temple?”

Yuan said, “You must return from afar. Tell my uncle that I have left home at Lingyin Temple in Hangzhou.”

The two servants wept bitterly, unable to bear parting, and left reluctantly.

Meanwhile, the elder sat in the abbot’s quarters, instructing attendants to light incense and candles. He sat upright on his meditation chair, entered deep concentration for a while, and then said, “Excellent, excellent. This kind of karmic connection lies here indeed.”

He then selected an auspicious day, prepared a vegetarian feast, and applied for the ordination certificate. After the feast, bells were rung and drums beaten, gathering the assembly in the Dharma hall. The elder had Yuan kneel before the Dharma seat and said, “Leaving home is easy, but returning to lay life is difficult. Do you understand this?”

Yuan said, “Disciple truly rejoices at heart. This is not forced.”

At that time, he was tonsured, and his hair was divided into five topknots. The elder said, “These five locks of hair: the front represents heaven, the back represents hell, the left represents the father, the right represents the mother, and the center represents your original destiny.”

Yuan said, “Disciple understands.”

Once the hair was shaved, the elder touched his head and gave him the monastic name Daoji.

The elder said, “You have received the Three Refuges and Five Precepts. Killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, alcohol, and anger—hereafter, you must abandon them all. Each day, you will sit in meditation in the Cloud Hall.”

Daoji asked, “Is that all?”

The elder instructed the temple supervisor to take Daoji to the Cloud Hall. After Daoji sat down, the supervisor instructed him, “You must be careful. Do not fall.”

Daoji sat until the third watch of the night, his body gradually growing tired and drowsy. Suddenly, he toppled from the meditation seat, not knowing what happened, and cried out in pain. Unconsciously, he had developed a large bump.

The supervisor said, “Daoji, why did you fall? I will forgive you this time, but if it happens again, you will be severely punished.”

Daoji got up and sat again, but sleepiness overwhelmed him, hard to dispel. He fell twice in a row.

The supervisor said, “Now it has happened twice. It is hard to forgive.”

A short while later, he fell again. After three falls, he was covered in bumps and bruises.

The supervisor said, “Daoji, your newly shaved head is just right for a few strokes of the bamboo rod.”

Daoji said, “I already have so many bumps, and now you want to add a big bruise with a bamboo rod? I’ll go tell the teacher.”

The supervisor said, “I’ll only hit you once, considering your face. And you want to go tell the teacher?”

Daoji said, “Brother, it’s my fault.”

The supervisor left with a smile.

Gradually, dawn broke. Daoji got up, felt the bumps on his head, and cried out repeatedly, “Such suffering, such suffering! After sitting for one night, I have so many bumps on my head. If I sit for a few months, there will be no place left on my head for more bumps!”

He endured for two more months. Daoji thought to himself, “Before leaving home, I could eat large pieces of meat and drink big bowls of wine as I pleased. Now, it’s only porridge and vegetables—I can’t even have an extra half bowl.” His body grew thin and sallow. How could he endure this? It would be better to bid farewell to the elder and return to lay life.

So he quickly jumped down from the meditation seat and headed for the door of the Cloud Hall. Two supervisors said, “You just went to relieve yourself. Why are you going again?”

Daoji said, “Even prisoners are allowed to relieve themselves. Why are you meddling?”

The supervisor said, “Go, but come back quickly.”

Daoji left the Cloud Hall and went straight to the abbot’s quarters. Earlier, the temple guardian deity had already informed the elder, “The arhat who left home at Tiantai Mountain is recently having doubts. Teacher, you should guide him and not let him leave.”

Just then, Daoji arrived and bowed. The elder asked, “Daoji, why have you come here instead of sitting in meditation?”

Daoji said, “I beg to inform you, teacher. Disciple cannot continue as a monk. I wish to return to lay life.”

The elder said, “Do not speak such words. I told you before that leaving home is easy, but returning to lay life is difficult. Since you have left home, how can you return to lay life?”

Daoji said, “It is all disciple’s fault. I beg for your compassion, teacher. Look at my suffering face and forgive me.”

The elder asked, “What suffering? Endure for two years, and you will be given a temple duty.”

Daoji said, “Disciple cannot endure it. In the temple, I haven’t seen any wine or meat. The porridge isn’t enough to fill me. I can’t sit steadily on the meditation seat, and when I fall, the supervisor hits me with a big bamboo rod. My whole body is thin and sallow—how can I endure this?”

The elder said, “I will scold the supervisor. He won’t hit you anymore.”

Daoji said, “A few hits are fine. It’s just that without enough to eat, I cannot endure. Disciple has two lines of Buddha’s teaching.”

The elder said, “Tell me.”

Daoji said, “One bump or two, the Buddha does not blame. One nap or two, the Buddha does not scold. One bowl or two, the Buddha does not mind.”

The elder said, “You compose well, but do not let your thoughts go astray.”

As they spoke, the cloud board sounded from the dining hall. The elder instructed an attendant to bring porridge and invited Daoji to eat with him.

Daoji saw that even the elder had no luxuries—in his bowl were only coarse grains and some pickled yellow vegetables. Daoji then recited four lines:

The elder said, "Excellent, excellent. So you do understand." Daoji replied, "I understand, but I can't endure it." The elder then recited a four-line verse:

Da Ji said, "Since I bowed to you as my teacher, I have not yet been enlightened. How can I attain true awakening?"

The elder replied, "You are too impatient. Since it is so, come closer." Da Ji stepped forward, and the elder grabbed him and gave him a single slap. The elder thought, "This person will surely awaken."

Da Ji scrambled to his feet, looked at the elder before him, and with one headbutt knocked the elder down from his meditation seat, then immediately ran off.

The elder shouted loudly, "Thief!" Suddenly, the monks gathered and asked, "What was stolen?"

The elder said, "The great treasure of the Chan gate."

The monks asked, "Who stole it?"

The elder replied, "Da Ji."

The monks said, "No matter, we will catch him at once."

The elder said, "Wait. I will question him myself tomorrow."

Everyone dispersed. Da Ji went straight into the meditation hall, muttering, "Good, good." He climbed onto the meditation platform, looked at the senior monk sitting at the head, and butted him with his head, saying, "Marvelous, marvelous."

The monk said, "Da Ji, what is the meaning of this?"

Da Ji replied, "Just having fun, what's the harm?"

Soon after, he butted the next senior monk as well, saying, "Marvelous, marvelous, so fun, so fun."

The others said, "Da Ji has gone mad."

Da Ji said, "If I am mad, I know it myself."

That night, Da Ji played around on the meditation platform all night. The monastery supervisor could not restrain him.

The next morning, the elder sat alone in his chamber, thinking, "Although Da Ji acts like this, I do not know if he has truly penetrated the truth. I will test him with a few phrases of Buddha's teaching to see clearly."

He then ordered an attendant to go to the meditation hall, beat the drum, ring the bell, and assemble the monks.

The elder ascended the Dharma seat, recited the Pure Land mantra once, and the monks offered incense.

The elder said, "Listen carefully, all monks."

The verse further states:

I cannot see it clearly. Mistaking the bamboo strainer for a wooden ladle. Late last night, when the moon hung in the western sky, The qilin shook off its golden chain. In my youth, I once reached Yanmen Pass; Now in old age, I see with drunken eyes. I recall an arrow once shot right before me— Even now, the memory sends a chill through my bones. Because no one recognizes my true face, I set off once more for Mount Tiantai.

Two traveling monks were resting at the temple. The officials and other visitors had all dispersed. One day, a messenger from Qiantang County came to see the abbot, saying, "While I was on my way to deliver documents to Tiantai, I encountered your monastery's Ji Gong. He entrusted me with a letter for you." The abbot took the letter, opened it, and saw two poems inside.

Second.

The elder of Shaolin said, "So that's how Jigong came and went, clear as day." The messenger was startled and said, "I thought he was alive, but it turns out he had already passed away." There is no need to say more.

Fifty years later, Jingci Temple had fallen into disrepair, and no one was able to gather timber for its restoration. Suddenly, one day, a man from Fan Village brought timber, saying that it had been collected through the fundraising efforts of Secretary Ji. The elder was greatly astonished and ordered the temple supervisor to accept it. All the monks in the temple were filled with admiration.

Later, Jigong's disciple, Shen Wanfa, rose to become the temple supervisor of this very temple and lived to the age of ninety-three before passing away. Jigong's miraculous deeds were numerous, too many to be fully recorded. There is a poem as proof:

Recorded Sayings of Chan Master Jidian, the Hermit of Qiantang Lake