---
title: "天隱修禪師語錄 · 示眾六"
description: "天隐修禅师语录由明代高僧天隐圆修禅师述说，其弟子通琇编集而成。该书成于明末清初，正值禅宗发展的重要时期，内容收录了圆修禅师的开示、法语、机缘对话及禅修要义，体现了临济宗的禅风与修行理念。书中强调直指人心、见性成佛，融合了禅宗心性论与实修指导，对后世禅学影响深远。作为明代禅宗重要文献，该语录是研究临济宗思想与明清佛教史的关键典籍，在佛教典籍中占有重要地位，为禅修者提供了权威的修行参考。"
url: "https://rushiwowen.co/en/r/cmgn05txb0bh0l4043lmet3lp"
---

## 天隱禪師語錄卷第六　　　　　　秉六

> Record of Master Tianyin's Sayings, Volume 6

嗣法門人通琇編

> Compiled by Dharma Heir Tongxiu

### 示眾

> Addressing the Assembly

示眾舉張無垢居士叅楚明禪師問入道之要明云此事惟念念不舍久久純熟時節到來自然證入復舉趙州栢𣗳子話令時時提撕士久之無省謁善權禪師問此事人人有分個個圓成是否善云然士云為甚某無個入處善於袖中出數珠示之云此是誰的士俛仰無對善復袖之云是汝的則拈取去士悚然未幾留蘇氏館一夕如廁以栢樹子話究之聞蛙鳴釋然契入有偈云春天月夜一聲蛙撞破乾坤共一家正恁麼時誰會得嶺頭脚痛有玄沙師云古人為道决不敢造次須是真實叅悟方自信自入無垢後來復見諸大老叅證至徑山與馮給事諸公議格物慧云公祗知有格物而不知有物格士茫然慧大笑士云師能開諭乎慧云不見小說載唐人有與安祿山謀叛者其人先為閬守有畫像在焉明皇幸蜀見之怒令侍臣以劍擊其像首時閬守居陝西首忽墮地士聞頓領㴱旨題不動軒壁云子韶格物妙喜物格欲識一貫兩箇五百慧始許可你看無垢當時既悟得乾坤共一家因甚到者裏自家茶飯又喫不下且道利害在什麼處者裏若會得許你們叅得祖師禪若未會得切不可將之乎者也以當平生自欺欺人况先軰大儒投誠入室不自埋沒廼今之衲子一百個倒有九十九個略得些光影便斷送一生光陰易過歲不久留汝等珍重。

> To the assembly, the Master held up the story of Layman Zhang Wugou. Zhang once called on Chan Master Chuming and asked for the essential way to enter the path. Chuming said, "This matter—only by keeping it in mind moment after moment, without letting go, will it gradually mature. When the time comes, you will naturally realize it." He then brought up the story of Zhaozhou's "cypress tree" and told Zhang to keep contemplating it constantly. For a long time, Zhang found no awakening. Later, he visited Chan Master Shanquan and asked, "This matter—everyone has a share of it, and each person is inherently complete. Is that so?" Shanquan said, "Yes." Zhang asked, "Then why do I have no way in?" Shanquan took out a prayer beads from his sleeve and showed it to him, saying, "Whose is this?" Zhang looked up and down, unable to answer. Shanquan put the beads back and said, "If it's yours, then take it." Zhang was startled. Not long after, Zhang was staying at the Su family's residence. One evening, while using the toilet, he contemplated the "cypress tree" story. Hearing a frog croak, he was suddenly and completely awakened. He composed a verse: "In the spring night, under the moon, a single frog croaks— Shattering heaven and earth into one shared home. At such a moment, who can truly grasp it? The pain in the mountain-top foot—there's Xuansha." The Master commented: "The ancients pursued the Way with absolute sincerity, never acting rashly. Only through true realization and personal verification can one truly trust and enter for oneself. Later, Wugou went on to meet many great masters and seek verification. When he reached Jingshan, he discussed the investigation of things with Minister Feng and others. Hui (the master at Jingshan) said, 'You only know about investigating things, but you don't know about things being investigated.' Zhang was bewildered. Hui laughed loudly. Zhang said, 'Can the Master explain this to me?' Hui said, 'Haven't you read in a novel about a man who conspired with An Lushan to rebel? This man had previously served as the governor of Lang Prefecture, and his portrait was kept there. When Emperor Ming of Tang fled to Shu, he saw the portrait and, in anger, ordered his attendant to strike the portrait's head with a sword. At that time, the governor was staying in Shaanxi, and suddenly his head fell to the ground.' Upon hearing this, Zhang was instantly and deeply enlightened. He wrote on the wall of the Stillness Pavilion: 'Zishao investigates things, Miaoxi has things investigated. If you want to understand the one thread— two five-hundreds make a thousand.' It was only then that Hui approved him. Look at Wugou—he had already awakened to 'heaven and earth as one shared home,' yet why, at this point, could he not swallow even his own food and drink? Tell me, where exactly is the crucial point? If you can understand this, then I will allow that you can practice the patriarchs' Chan. If you cannot understand it, then by no means should you use scholarly phrases and empty talk to deceive yourselves and others for a lifetime. Moreover, the great Confucian scholars of the past sincerely devoted themselves to the path and entered the master's room, never burying their own potential. But today's monks—ninety-nine out of a hundred—grasp at some slight glimpse of light and then waste their entire lives. Time passes quickly, and life does not stay long. All of you, take this to heart."

示眾師云今朝臘月十五夜半椎鐘擂鼓觀音入理之門到此休教莽鹵不莽鹵五九四十五五九四十五窮漢街頭舞不要舞春寒途中猶更苦顧左右云且道家堂坐的又作麼生喝一喝云休瞌睡下座。

> The Master said to the assembly, "This morning is the fifteenth day of the twelfth lunar month. At midnight, the bell is struck and the drum is beaten. Guanyin has entered the gate of principle. At this point, do not be careless. Careless or not, five times nine is forty-five. Five times nine is forty-five. The poor man dances in the street. Do not dance—the spring cold on the road is even more bitter." He looked around and said, "Now tell me, what about the one who sits at home?" He gave a shout and said, "Do not fall asleep!" Then he descended from the seat.

立春示眾師云拶破泥牛徧界春一回消息一回新江山不改舊時色指點諸人賞寂音。

> 立春时节，禅师开示众人说：“打破泥牛，遍世界都是春天；每一次消息传来，都是新的景象。江山依旧，不改旧时的颜色，指点众人一同欣赏这寂静之音。”

示眾舉乾峰云舉一不得舉二放過一著落在第二雲門出眾云昨日有人從天台來卻往徑山去乾峰召維那云來日不得暜請師云乾峰當時卻似誘人犯法好與三十棒雲門雖是見兔放鷹亦是忘前失後諸人到此不得放過乾峰來日不得暜請句雖然也是賊過後張弓頌云漁翁終日在灘頭釣得金鱗即便休放去𭣣來風浪穩坐看明月下滄洲。

> To the assembly, he cited Ganfeng's saying: "When lifting one, do not lift two. If you let go of one, you fall into the second." Yunmen then stepped forward and said, "Yesterday someone came from Tiantai and went to Jingshan." Ganfeng called to the rector, "Tomorrow, do not give the general invitation." The master commented: "Ganfeng, in that moment, was like leading people into breaking the law—he deserves thirty blows. Although Yunmen, seeing the rabbit, released the hawk, he also forgot the front and lost the back. All of you here must not let this pass. Ganfeng's phrase, 'Tomorrow, do not give the general invitation,' though it was also setting the bow after the thief has gone." The verse says: The old fisherman stays by the shore all day long; Once he hooks the golden fish, he rests. Releasing it, gathering it, the wind and waves calm— He sits and watches the moon descend over the blue waters.

示眾舉世尊九十日在忉利天為母說法及辭天界下時四眾八部俱往虛空界迎有蓮華色比丘尼作念云我是尼身必俱大僧後見佛不如用神力變作轉輪聖王千子圍繞最初見佛果滿其願世尊纔見廼訶云蓮華色比丘尼何得越大僧見吾汝雖見吾色身且不見吾法身須菩提巖中宴坐卻見吾法身師云蓮華色比丘尼未解世尊太煞慈悲若解當下脫然雖然世尊只說得如來禪若山僧見他恁麼來攔頭便棒管教變去不得諸人還知落處麼良久云天共白雲曉水和明月流。

> To the assembly, the World-Honored One spent ninety days in the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven teaching the Dharma for his mother. When he descended from the heavens, the fourfold assembly and eight classes of beings all gathered in the realm of space to welcome him. A bhikṣuṇī named Utpalavarṇā thought to herself, "As a nun, I must yield to the senior monks. Better than seeing the Buddha afterward, I should use my miraculous powers to transform into a universal monarch surrounded by a thousand princes, and be the first to see the Buddha, fulfilling my wish." When the World-Honored One saw her, he immediately rebuked her, saying, "Utpalavarṇā, how dare you see me ahead of the senior monks? Though you see my physical form, you do not see my Dharma body. Subhūti, seated in absorption in the mountain cave, truly sees my Dharma body." The master said, "Utpalavarṇā did not understand. How greatly compassionate the World-Honored One was! Had she understood, she would have been instantly liberated. Still, the World-Honored One only spoke of the Tathāgata's meditation. If I had seen her coming like that, I would have struck her on the head with my staff, ensuring she could not transform again. Do you all know where the point lies?" After a long pause, he said, "The sky shares the dawn with white clouds; the water mingles with moonlight in clear flow."

示眾舉夾山云我二十年住山未嘗舉著宗門中事有僧問承和尚有言我二十年住山未嘗舉著宗門中事是否山云是僧便掀倒禪牀山休去師云報恩若作夾山但云今日卻被闍𥠖啟請看他眼目定動劈脊便棒山明日暜請掘一坑令侍者請昨日問話僧來云老僧二十年只說無義語師云支離不少山云請上座打殺老僧埋向坑中便請便請上座若不打殺老僧自著打殺埋此坑中始得師云雖用紅緜套子亦是令人不快山僧若作者僧但進前云某甲罪過拂袖便行何必潛去諸人委悉麼未會更為頌出賔主由來未作家遞相鈍置莫矜誇個中若具拏龍手任爾風濤眼豈賒。

> To the assembly, the master said: "Jia Shan once stated, 'In twenty years of dwelling on the mountain, I have never once raised the matter of the school.' A monk asked, 'Is it true that you said, "In twenty years of dwelling on the mountain, I have never once raised the matter of the school"?' Jia Shan said, 'Yes.' The monk then toppled the Chan couch. Jia Shan fell silent." The master commented: "If Bao En were Jia Shan, he would have only said, 'Today I have been moved by the venerable one's request.' Watch his eyes move—then strike him across the back with a staff." The next day, Jia Shan had a pit dug and ordered an attendant to invite the monk who had questioned him the day before. Jia Shan said, "For twenty years, I have only spoken meaningless words." The master commented: "Quite a bit of fragmentation." Jia Shan said, "Please, venerable one, strike this old monk dead and bury him in this pit. Go ahead, please. If the venerable one does not strike this old monk dead, I will strike myself dead and bury myself in this pit myself." The master commented: "Though he used a red silk cover, it still makes people uncomfortable. If I were that monk, I would merely step forward and say, 'It is my fault,' then flick my sleeves and leave. Why sneak away?" "Do you all understand? If not, I will present a verse for you: Host and guest from the start are no true masters, Mutually dulling each other, not worth boasting. If one possesses the hand that seizes dragons, Though waves and wind rage, how could the eye fail to see far?"

示眾舉石樓和尚一日纔見龐居士來便掩卻門云多知老翁莫與相見士云獨坐獨語過在阿誰樓便開門纔出被居士把住云是師多知是我多知樓云多知且置閉門開門卷之與舒相較幾何士云秖此一問氣急殺人樓不語師云二大老驀劄相逢如兩陣交鋒不無勝負報恩若作石樓便道居士老老大大作者個話會他若道弄巧成拙但云卻是廼說頌云兩陣交鋒果是奇到頭贏得者些兒當塲一著擬強弱不避𨦟鋩破禁圍閒翫賞弄旌旗𭣣得頭來把尾歸咄。

> To the assembly, the Master cited the story of Elder Shilou. One day, Elder Shilou saw Layman Pang coming and immediately closed the door, saying, "The old man who knows too much—let us not meet." The Layman said, "Sitting alone and speaking to himself—whose fault is that?" Shilou then opened the door, and as soon as he came out, the Layman grabbed hold of him and said, "Is it you who knows too much, or is it I who knows too much?" Shilou said, "Put aside the matter of knowing too much—of closing the door and opening the door, rolling up and spreading out, how do they compare?" The Layman said, "This very question takes one's breath away!" Shilou was silent. The Master commented: "These two great elders, meeting abruptly like this, were like two armies clashing—there was no lack of victory or defeat. If I were Shilou, I would say to the Layman, 'Old man, old man, what kind of talk is this?' If he then said, 'Trying to be clever only makes things worse,' I would simply say, 'It is you who are mistaken.'" Then the Master gave a verse: Two armies clash—truly a marvel! In the end, what is won is only this bit. At the critical move, one tests strength, Not avoiding the blade's edge to break the encirclement. Leisurely enjoying the view, waving the banners, Having caught the head, one turns the tail back—ha!

示眾舉道吾因南泉云法身具四大否有人道得與他一腰褌吾云性地非空空非性地此是地大三大亦然泉不違前言廼與褌一腰師云道吾與麼道報恩則不然性地本空空非性地一大如故三大亦然且道與古人是同是別若人撿點得出還我一腰褌有麼有麼。

> To the assembly, the Master cited the story of Daowu: Nanquan asked, "Does the Dharmakaya possess the four great elements?" He said, "If someone can answer this, I will give him a pair of pants." Daowu replied, "The nature of the ground is not empty; emptiness is not the nature of the ground. This is the element of earth. The same applies to the other three elements." Nanquan, not going back on his word, then gave Daowu a pair of pants. The Master commented, "Daowu spoke in that way, but Bao'en's view is different: The nature of the ground is inherently empty; emptiness is not the nature of the ground. One great element is as such, and the other three are likewise. Now tell me, is this the same as or different from the ancients? If anyone can discern this, let them give me a pair of pants. Is there anyone? Is there anyone?"

示眾舉歸宗禪師泥壁次白侍郎叅宗問汝是君子儒小人儒白云君子儒宗廼打泥拓一下白遂過泥宗接得便使良久云莫便是快俊的白侍郎否白云不敢宗云秖有過泥分師云侍郎將成萬仞之山未進一簣之土山僧若作侍郎但云和尚莫壓良為賤雖然今日要恁麼君子儒也難得諸人不得放過莫將無事為無事往往事從無事生。

> The master addressed the assembly, recounting how Master Guizong was plastering a wall when Minister Bai came to pay his respects. Guizong asked, "Are you a gentleman-scholar or a petty-scholar?" Bai replied, "A gentleman-scholar." Guizong then struck the plaster with his trowel, and Bai stepped forward to hand him more plaster. Guizong took it and used it. After a while, he said, "So you're the quick-witted Minister Bai?" Bai replied, "I wouldn't dare." Guizong said, "You're only capable of handing over plaster." The master commented: "The Minister was about to build a mountain ten thousand fathoms high, but had not yet brought even one basket of earth. If I were the Minister, I would have simply said, 'Master, don't oppress the good by forcing them into servitude.' Even so, today it's hard to find this kind of gentleman-scholar. All of you must not let this pass by casually. Don't mistake 'no-thing' for nothingness—often, things arise from the very notion of 'no-thing.'"

元宵示眾師云一燈續燄百千燈剔起眉毛見未曾照徹心空及第處方堪遠繼嶺南人。

> The master said to the assembly on the Lantern Festival: "One lamp ignites a hundred thousand lamps; raise your eyebrows and see what has never been seen before. When the mind is illuminated and emptiness is realized, only then can one truly carry on the legacy of the man from Lingnan."

示眾師云今時人做工夫疑情不起葢為生死心不切生死心若切疑情不得不起教你放也放不下。

> The Master addressed the assembly, saying: "These days, when people engage in spiritual practice, their sense of doubt does not arise because their concern for birth and death is not urgent. If their concern for birth and death were truly urgent, then the doubt would inevitably arise. Even if you tried to let it go, you wouldn't be able to."

示眾師云今時禪門大變總是個弄虛頭漢教壞人家男女不肯指點人做實地工夫剛剛學些魔嘴說話不顧本分中黑漆漆地老僧者裏不比諸方容人打口令謂之叅禪若要在此住須將從前學得的盡情吐卻淨淨地本分叅究一回討個分曉始得若不如斯唐喪光陰有何利益。

> The Master addressed the assembly, saying: "In these times, the Zen school has undergone a great transformation—it is full of people putting on false fronts, deceiving others and leading them astray. They refuse to guide people in genuine practice, merely picking up some clever phrases to impress others, while their own minds remain shrouded in darkness. Here at my place, it's different from other monasteries. We don't entertain empty wordplay and call it meditation. If you wish to stay here, you must completely let go of everything you've learned before, and with a clear and open mind, sincerely investigate your true nature until you see things for yourself. Only then will it be worthwhile. If not, you're just wasting your time—what benefit is there in that?"

示眾舉玉泉浩布褌因東坡相訪浩問云尊官何姓坡云姓秤是秤天下長老的秤浩唾地云者一唾重多少坡無對師云山僧若作東坡便道未出定盤星在不使者老漢一唾至今𭣣不得還有人𭣣得麼若𭣣得也許伊識分兩顧視左右頌云識得眉毛眼上何須特地戈矛氣吞宇宙無礙觸著風雷捲𭣣意綢繆漫看天涯一色秋者裏若還親薦得道人無事樂悠悠。

> A master once addressed the assembly, sharing a story: When Dongpo (Su Shi) visited Master Yuquan Haobu, Haobu asked him, “Sir, what is your surname?” Dongpo replied, “My surname is ‘Scale’—a scale that weighs all the great masters under heaven.” Haobu spat on the ground and asked, “How heavy is this spit?” Dongpo was speechless. The master commented: “If I were Dongpo, I would have said, ‘It hasn’t even reached the zero point on the scale yet.’ That old man’s spit has remained unweighed to this day. Is there anyone here who can weigh it? If you can, I’ll credit you with knowing your measures.” He then looked around at the assembly and offered a verse: Once you see your brows above your eyes, Why raise a spear or shield with pointless cries? A mind that holds the cosmos has no bounds— When touched, like wind and thunder, it resounds. No need for tangled thoughts or woven ties— Just watch the autumn sky, one hue that lies. If you can truly grasp this very point, The awakened rest at ease, with no disjoint.

示眾舉善道禪師因杏山問承聞行者遊臺山來還見文殊麼善云見杏云道什麼善云道你生身父母在深草裏杏無對師云山僧若作杏山便道恁麼說話未見文殊在拂袖便行廼頌云𦏰羊蹤跡最難尋步步相隨意轉新挨到一天星斗上陡然霹靂暗中行。

> The master addressed the assembly, citing a story about Chan Master Shandao. It happened that Xingshan asked him, "I hear you have traveled to Mount Tai. Did you see Manjushri there?" Shandao replied, "Yes, I saw him." Xingshan asked, "What did he say?" Shandao answered, "He said, 'Your biological parents are in the deep grass.'" Xingshan was at a loss for words. The master commented, "If I had been Xingshan, I would have said, 'With words like that, you clearly haven't seen Manjushri.' Then I would have flicked my sleeve and walked away." He then offered a verse: The ram's trail is hardest to trace— step by step, the mind takes a new turn. When you reach the starry sky above, sudden thunder strikes from within the dark.

示眾舉藥山向手中書一佛字問道吾是什麼吾云佛字山云者多口阿師師云藥山秖知他人多口不知自己多手廼呵呵大笑云老僧恁麼批判秖見錐利不見鑿方諸人還知落處麼若知落處他日不得錯舉不知落處他日亦不得錯舉珍重。

> The master addressed the assembly, raising the example of Yaoshan, who once wrote the character "Buddha" in his hand and asked Daowu, "What is this?" Daowu replied, "The character 'Buddha'." Yaoshan said, "You are a talkative teacher." The master then commented, "Yaoshan only knows others are talkative, but doesn't realize his own hand is busy." He then let out a hearty laugh and said, "In my critique here, I only see the sharpness of the awl, not the squareness of the chisel. Do you all understand where the point lies? If you understand, do not misstate it in the future. If you don't understand, likewise, do not misstate it in the future. Take care."

示眾舉大慧禪師上堂舉須菩提巖中宴坐諸天雨華讚歎尊者云空中雨華讚歎者是何人天云我是梵天尊者云汝云何讚歎天云我重尊者善說般若尊者云我於般若未曾說一字云何言善說慧喝一喝云當時若下得者一喝非但塞卻梵天口亦廼二千年後免被徑山檢點天云尊者無說我廼無聞無說無聞是真般若慧又喝一喝云當時若下得者一喝非但塞卻須菩提口亦廼二千年後免被徑山檢點且道徑山還有遭人檢點處也無自云有什麼處是遭人檢點處不合多口師云徑山老人築著空生梵天漏洞自家漏洞還曾築著也未諸人若築得著道將一句來良久云不合多口便下座。

> To the assembly, he cited Dahui Chan Master's sermon: When Subhuti sat in silent meditation in the rocks, the devas rained flowers in praise. The Venerable One asked, "Who is raining flowers in the sky and praising?" The deva replied, "I am Brahma." The Venerable One asked, "Why do you praise?" The deva answered, "I revere the Venerable One for his excellent exposition of Prajna." The Venerable One said, "I have not spoken a single word of Prajna. How can you say I expounded it well?" Dahui then gave a shout and said, "If at that moment one had given that shout, not only would it have stopped Brahma's mouth, but it would also have spared Jingshan from finding fault two thousand years later." The deva said, "The Venerable One has not spoken, and I have not heard. No speaking and no hearing—this is true Prajna." Dahui again gave a shout and said, "If at that moment one had given that shout, not only would it have stopped Subhuti's mouth, but it would also have spared Jingshan from finding fault two thousand years later." Then he added, "Tell me, does Jingshan have any place where he could be faulted?" After a pause, he said, "Where is there any place to be faulted? It is only because I have said too much." The master commented: "The old man of Jingshan struck at the flaws of Subhuti and Brahma. But has he himself struck at his own flaw? If you can strike at it, say a phrase." After a long silence, he said, "It is only because I have said too much." Then he descended from the seat.

示眾師云今朝七月一秋風漸漸急若是個中人不用重重說他人難用力須教自打徹大眾且道打徹個什麼驀竪拂子云八角磨盤空裏走露柱懷胎笑點頭下座。

> The master addressed the assembly, saying: "Today is the first day of the seventh month, and the autumn wind is gradually picking up. If you are truly one who understands, there's no need for me to say much. Others can't put in the effort for you—you must break through on your own. Now, everyone, tell me: what is it that you must break through?" Suddenly, he raised his fly whisk and said, "An octagonal millstone spins through the sky; a pillar becomes pregnant and nods with a smile." Then he stepped down from the seat.

示眾舉翠巖真禪師因黃國博問百丈華長老既是百丈為什麼卻短小華云今日好天晴黃不契卻請真代語真云但問將來黃再問真云須彌南畔把手同行黃佇思卻問意旨如何真云蚊子上鐵牛黃又佇思云不會請和尚為某甲說真云你離卻妻子來老僧為你說黃云秖如和尚還行得麼真云上藍寺裏送客一日行百千遭師云大小國博恁麼見解欲勘騐諸方未到你在山僧今日也是扶強不扶弱眾中有扶弱不扶強的出來代他一轉語看若代不得切忌草草頌云三擒三放不知歸陸地行舟未可為個裏要知端的意還他真正作家兒。

> The assembly was addressed. Master Cuìyán Zhēn once received a question from National Scholar Huáng. Huáng asked, “Abbot Huá of Baizhàng—since he’s the abbot of Baizhàng, why is he so short?” Huá replied, “The sky is clear and fine today.” Huáng didn’t agree with this answer, so he asked Zhēn to respond on his behalf. Zhēn said, “Just ask him again, and see what comes.” Huáng asked again, and Zhēn answered, “South of Mount Sumeru, walking hand in hand.” Huáng pondered for a moment, then asked, “What does this mean?” Zhēn said, “A mosquito on an iron ox.” Huáng pondered again, and said, “I don’t understand. Please, Master, explain it to me.” Zhēn said, “If you can let go of your wife and children, I’ll explain it to you.” Huáng asked, “But can you yourself do this?” Zhēn replied, “At Shànglán Monastery, seeing off guests, I walk hundreds of times in a single day.” The Master commented: “For all his rank and status, this National Scholar’s understanding was too shallow. He wanted to test the masters of various directions, but he hadn’t yet reached that level. Today I’m also siding with the strong, not the weak. Is there anyone among you here who would side with the weak, not the strong? Step forward and give a turning word on his behalf. If you cannot, be careful not to act rashly.” The verse says: Three times captured, three times released—he didn’t know the way back. Moving a boat on dry land—that’s not something just anyone can do. If you want to know the real meaning in this, You need a true master of the craft.

辛未重陽眾請說始終叅悟示眾師云若論此事本無言說叩己所叅聊通影響余生荊谿閔門母潘氏不幸早歲失怙母老孀居時值凶荒艱難困苦無從師範讀書幸植宿因時中嘗念觀音名號憶得小時伯母攜出閒望井邑忽一念返照見空豁豁地境界一回至十餘歲賣菜養母漸涉世緣不覺隨聲逐色轉轉迷重從此頓失前來赤子之心年二十始發心茹齋報母劬勞之恩然不知三寶歸向惟對神明立願二六時中邪念忽起默誦小人閒居為不善章頓然念息一日偶經講肆值講楞嚴一切眾生皆由不知常住真心性淨明體用諸妄想此想不真故有輪轉余時一聞惕然發起畏生死心自念既在世間虛受輪廻遷變不常咸屬幻化何不急早修行貴圖脫苦聞幻有和尚是大善知識自清凉山來廼唐凝菴太常吳安節通政延居龍池山道風遐播闡揚臨濟正宗單提向上一著渴欲拜見聞出山過毗陵龍嘴菴即日買舟至毗陵相見和尚顧余曰何弗出家余曰有志未逮曰何故余曰老母在堂是未敢也一見遂別明年又同密雲兄特造龍池時遇風雪連住十餘日得盤桓請益自後但一念怕生死心切單單體究本分一著雖處塵寰之中實無有一毫留念世緣一日母命攜籃買腐籃錢俱與店家空手而歸被母呵責余時工夫愈覺痛切母見我道念堅固不悅處世亦食長齋偶請瞽目星士使推余命士曰此八字壽夭余適從外歸問曰出家可否士曰出家甚好時母聞說方允出家余即禮謝明年萬曆戊戌遂脫俗芟染初看趙州無字話半載和尚問曰工夫邇來如何余曰話頭雖切但無入處和尚示余更叅如何是父母未生前本來面目余領受歸堂刻刻提撕無論閒忙動靜處行住坐臥時死死挨拶不敢少怠一日和尚同眾看出窰有覺所兄云聞四大名山菩薩出現神通廣大和尚驀接語云我者裏亦不少余進云如何是者裏神通和尚曰快些度甎其時稍稍有入次後工夫急切晝三夜三看來看去及百餘日偶展楞嚴見佛咄阿難云此非汝心於時如善財入彌勒樓閣忽憶昔年童稚境界與現前無異無別頓覺從前疑情放下平貼貼地一日室中和尚舉華嚴經佛身充滿於法界暜現一切羣生前為什麼汝等張著兩眼不見時邘州兄云據某見處是佛見無我是我見無佛和尚云料掉沒交涉復顧余曰你如何會余曰據某見處道得一字即不出和尚曰同坑無異土明春侍和尚入城在顯親禪堂余請問永嘉大師道忽然如拓空時如何和尚一喝復顧余云我代你修行罷余時禮拜便會得主賔照用之句復適石城寓天界寺謁雲松老師貌古臘高精勤定課寒暑不移可畏可敬親榻數日受益良多又訪文齋老師於能仁寺此老敏而文出語新奇令人心暢秋後還山至辛丑余遂掩關和尚囑云汝既有入處此番當更精進他日利導有情勿令斷絕吾北行矣余時不獲從侍巾󰦘如失慈父懊恨無已然無可奈何只得關中依時消遣雖閱古人因緣一一有透露處或拈或頌隨問隨答至僧問乾峰十方薄伽梵一路涅槃門未審路頭在什麼處乾峰拈拄杖畫一畫云在者裏僧復問雲門門拈扇子云𨁝跳上三十三天築著帝釋鼻孔東海鯉魚打一棒雨似盆傾卻又去不得於是力叅兩載終日蒲團正在忘絕境界之際忽聞驢鳴恍然頓釋前疑如放下百千斤擔子有偈曰忽聞驢子呌驚起當人笑萬別與千差非聲非色閙自後看公案如劈竹相似了無滯礙偶聞風拂松梢雨打窓紙隨口云風聲與水聲不必論疎親一耳聞為決何曾有二音至甲辰年四月八日解關與密雲兄三藐弟覲和尚於燕都暜照寺時冬殘矣和尚見三人遠去甚喜因騐余等曰汝軰離老僧三載各各呈個見處看余禮拜便出復呈偈曰人說北地寒我說南方暖寒暖不知人竆人知寒暖和尚笑云汝是竆人次日復徵云汝既為我臨濟門下兒孫當盡臨濟法要秖如四料簡汝如何會余以四法界答之和尚首肯余復問曰歷歷孤明時如何和尚曰待你到者田地與你道余便喝和尚曰汝還起緣心麼余拂袖便出一日因侍和尚穿褊衫舉椅子曰汝上坐待我拜你為師余含笑而退呈偈曰木人提唱笑呵呵更著衣衫誰識他昨日覸來是男子今朝還作老婆婆和尚覽竟云此偈甚愜老僧意只是不可得而名焉余故假傀儡題之時古輝老師博通三藏講諸經於白塔寺余思教乘不可不達古德云通宗不通教開口便亂道通教不通宗如蛇入竹筒宗教兩俱通如日處虛空宗教俱不通如犬吠茅叢因同密雲兄遊歷教海明春蒙聖母慈恩建無遮大會於臺山延靜淵老師主法余時得從杖履領法華妙旨此老孤高標格操履冰霜真乘法範萬指圍繞余受益甚多又親近妙峰老師於塔院寺連居數月真誠苦行因果明白德業浩然回京謁幻也老人於天寧高風逸韻人所不及以上皆一時耆宿為人師法者一日本師和尚得恙甚重余思法門事大吾本分雖略露一斑曾未明證儻和尚不起奈何時晨夕不離左右曾於中夜拜跪曰某雖侍和尚十有餘載本分所得因緣特未明騐今欲呈似不敢自欺一字望和尚證明和尚矍然坐起余一一傾心披誠和尚曰汝既如是吾亦如是余時便禮拜丁未歲余與三藐弟懇和尚還龍池次年臘月就龍池開堂命余為西堂余固辭是冬發大病明春稍愈和尚復以秉拂事命余余復固辭癸丑命理院事余因病又辭因假嶺南靜室掩關時計隨侍和尚南北往還并初發心親近共一十八載䟦涉道途間關勞頓總為自己本分事冬底拜辭入關和尚復垂偈付密雲兄齎來云老衲於今不坐關既無住也幸無閒何曾進又何曾出只在尋常天地間余拜讀訖隨韻呈數首不幸春來和尚順世余破關匍匐而歸哀悼不已待抿龕安制調停叢林事妥曳杖弗辭依舊入關承凝菴居士及諸檀越貽書強余出關余力辭不返至㴱秋舊病復作幾番垂死延到冬底眾兄弟強余還山余亦恐不能久住於世故順從歸龍池沉疴之症夙業牽纏淹留至庚申年方得病瘳意希徧歷諸方遇緣垂手偶識徒蹋此山南幽處進二十餘里名磬山廼荊谿極㴱谷也余因是有終焉之思矣是年秋便誅茅仲冬後蒙密雲兄等送余越嶺時祁寒中縛茅未就尚無卓錐之地匆匆到來眾皆歎息此冬洎春大雪緜緜積五十餘日人跡罕到徘徊四顧惟饑禽野獸而已儲盡糧空㸑烟欲絕余自若也因卓杖語伴者曰若老僧數盡即埋此山不必更送骸骨入龍池塔他日自然成就伽藍地也迄今屈指已經一十二寒暑藉眾檀那吳曹諸公協力護持卻成叢席每每雲水高流沿溪尋入乞余開示備述往行余素不從不期今日與諸人吐露浪布一場敗闕正眼觀之如空花水月本無生滅去來之相可不見笑大方諸人若要幹辦本分大事豈在尋人蹤跡宜當自勉勿記吾言大眾躍然禮謝。

> On the ninth day of the ninth month in the year 1631, at the repeated request of the assembly to hear about the master's journey of practice and awakening, the master addressed the assembly: "If we're talking about this matter, it fundamentally has nothing to do with words. I'll just share a bit of my own experience, though it's like an echo or a shadow—not the real thing. I was born in Jingxi. My mother's maiden name was Pan. Unfortunately, I lost my father early, and my mother was left a widow. Times were hard—famine and hardship everywhere. I had no opportunity to study with a teacher, but fortunately I carried good karmic seeds from past lives. From time to time I would recite Guanyin's name. I remember when I was small, my aunt once took me out for a walk. Suddenly a single thought turned inward, and I saw an immense emptiness—a state like nothing else. That lasted until I was ten or so, when I started selling vegetables to support my mother. Gradually I got caught up in worldly affairs. Before I knew it, I was chasing sounds and colors, sinking deeper and deeper into confusion. The innocent heart of childhood was lost. At twenty, I began to practice vegetarianism to repay my mother's kindness in raising me. But I didn't yet know about taking refuge in the Three Jewels. I only made vows before the gods and spirits. Whenever evil thoughts arose during the day, I would silently recite the passage about the petty person in their private moments—and the thoughts would settle down. One day, I happened to pass by a lecture hall where the \*Shurangama Sutra\* was being taught. The teacher said: 'All sentient beings are thus because they do not recognize their everlasting true mind, pure and luminous by nature. They cling to various delusions, and because these delusions are not real, they revolve in samsara.' The moment I heard this, I was jolted awake. A fear of birth and death arose in me. I thought: Since I'm here in this world, drifting through cycles of change—if all this is just illusion, why not practice urgently to escape suffering? I heard that the monk Huanyou was a great teacher, a true master of wisdom, who had come from Mount Wutai. He had been invited by Minister Tang Ning'an and others to stay at Longchi Mountain. His reputation for spreading the true lineage of Linji Zen and pointing directly to the ultimate matter had spread far and wide. I longed to meet him. When I heard he was passing through Piling and staying at Longzui Hermitage, I bought a boat that very day and went to see him. The master looked at me and said, 'Why haven't you become a monk?' I replied, 'I have the aspiration, but it's not yet possible.' 'Why not?' 'My elderly mother is still at home. I dare not leave her.' We parted after that single meeting. The next year, I went with my senior brother Biyun to visit Longchi. We traveled through wind and snow and stayed for over ten days, with plenty of time to ask questions and learn. From then on, my mind was set on a single thing: the fear of birth and death. I focused solely on investigating the fundamental matter. Even amid worldly affairs, I had no attachment whatsoever. One day, my mother sent me to buy tofu. I returned with neither the basket nor the change—I'd given everything to the shopkeeper. My mother scolded me, but my practice only grew more intense. Seeing how determined I was, my mother wasn't pleased. Still, she ate vegetarian. When I asked a blind fortune-teller to read my chart, he said my fate was uncertain. I came in from outside and asked, 'Can I become a monk?' He said, 'Becoming a monk would be very good.' Hearing this, my mother finally gave her permission. I thanked her and bowed. The next year, in 1598, I shaved my head and left home. At first I worked on the koan 'Zhaozhou's Wu'—the word 'No.' After six months, the master asked, 'How is your practice these days?' I said, 'I'm focused on the koan, but I have no entry point.' The master instructed me: 'Try inquiring further: What is your original face before your parents were born?' I received this and returned to the hall. Day and night, I held onto it—whether busy or idle, moving or still, walking, standing, sitting, or lying down. I pressed on relentlessly, never daring to slacken. One day, the master was inspecting a kiln with the assembly. Senior brother Juesuo said, 'I hear the great mountains and sacred sites have bodhisattvas appearing with great miraculous powers.' The master interrupted and said, 'There's plenty of that here too.' I stepped forward and asked, 'What is the miraculous power here?' The master said, 'Quickly, pass some bricks.' At that moment, something began to open for me. After that, my practice became even more urgent. Day and night, I investigated, until after a hundred or so days, I happened to open the \*Shurangama Sutra\* and read where the Buddha scolded Ananda: 'This is not your mind.' At that moment, it was like Sudhana entering Maitreya's tower. I suddenly recalled what I had experienced as a child—it was identical to what I was experiencing now, no different at all. All my past doubts fell away. My mind became level and at ease. One day in the master's room, he brought up a passage from the \*Avatamsaka Sutra\*: 'The Buddha's body fills the Dharma Realm, appearing before all living beings.' Then he asked, 'Why can't you see it with your two eyes?' Brother Yuzhou said, 'As I see it: when the Buddha is seen, there's no self; when the self is seen, there's no Buddha.' The master said, 'That misses the mark completely,' then turned to me and asked, 'How do you understand it?' I said, 'As I see it, if I could say even one word, it would already be missed.' The master said, 'Same pit, same dirt.' The next spring, attending the master in the city at Xianqin Zen Hall, I asked: 'When Master Yongjia says "suddenly like space opening wide," what about that?' The master gave a shout. Then he said, 'Let me practice for you.' At that, I bowed, and realized the meaning of host and guest, illumination and function. Later, at Shicheng, I stayed at Tianjie Temple and visited Master Yunsong. He was old in appearance but lofty in spirit, rigorous in his practice, unmoved by heat or cold—truly awe-inspiring and admirable. I stayed close to him for several days and benefited greatly. I also visited Master Wenzhai at Nengren Temple. This elder was sharp and literary, with refreshing new insights that delighted the mind. In autumn I returned to the mountain. In 1601, I entered a retreat. The master instructed me: 'Since you've already had some entry, you must now practice with even greater diligence. In the future, guide living beings and don't let the lineage die out. I'm heading north.' I couldn't follow him then. It was like losing a loving father. I was filled with regret, but there was nothing to be done. So I stayed in retreat, passing the time as best I could. As I worked through the old masters' koans, each one revealed its meaning. I responded to whatever questions came, sometimes with verses, sometimes with comments. There was the case where a monk asked Ganfeng: 'The ten directions are the path to liberation—where is the road?' Ganfeng raised his staff, drew a line, and said, 'Right here.' The same monk asked Yunmen, and Yunmen raised his fan and said, 'It leaps up to the thirty-third heaven, hits the nose of Lord Indra. The carp of the Eastern Sea: one blow and rain pours down like a basin.' I pressed on with this koan for two years, sitting on my cushion day and night. Just as I was in a state of complete forgetting, I suddenly heard a donkey bray. In that instant, all my remaining doubts shattered, like setting down a hundred-pound burden. I composed a verse: \*Suddenly the donkey brayed—\* \*It startles the person to laughter.\* \*Ten thousand differences, ten thousand distinctions—\* \*Not sound, not form, yet how loud!\* After that, reading koans was like splitting bamboo—no obstruction whatsoever. Once, hearing the wind rustle the pine branches and rain tap the window paper, I spontaneously said: \*The sound of wind, the sound of water—\* \*Why distinguish distant from near?\* \*One ear hears them all—\* \*How could there be two sounds?\* In 1604, on the eighth day of the fourth month, I ended my retreat and went with brother Biyun and brother Sanmiao to visit the master at Puzhao Temple in the capital. It was late winter. Seeing that the three of us had traveled far, the master was very pleased. To test us, he said, 'You've been away from me for three years. Let each of you show me what you've realized.' I bowed and left. Then I presented a verse: \*People say the north is cold;\* \*I say the south is warm.\* \*Cold and warm—no one knows;\* \*Only the poor man knows cold and warm.\* The master laughed and said, 'You're the poor man.' The next day, he pressed me further: 'Since you're a descendant of my Linji lineage, you should master the essential teachings of Linji. For instance, the Four Classifications of Relation—how do you understand them?' I answered in terms of the four realms of the Dharma world. The master nodded in approval. I then asked, 'What about when the solitary clarity is radiant and distinct?' The master said, 'Wait until you've reached that stage, then I'll tell you.' I gave a shout. The master said, 'Are you still giving rise to discriminatory thoughts?' I flicked my sleeves and left. One day, while attending the master, he put on a robe, lifted a chair, and said, 'You sit up here. Let me bow to you as my teacher.' I laughed, withdrew, and offered this verse: \*A wooden man sings and laughs—\* \*Who can recognize him, dressed in robes?\* \*Yesterday he appeared to be a man;\* \*Today he's an old woman.\* The master read it and said, 'This verse greatly pleases this old monk. Though it cannot quite be named.' That's why I used the image of a puppet. At that time, the elder master Guhui, who was deeply learned in all the teachings, was lecturing on various sutras at White Pagoda Temple. I thought to myself: The scriptural teachings must not be neglected. As the ancient master said: \*Understand Zen but not the teachings—\* \*Open your mouth and you'll talk nonsense.\* \*Understand teachings but not Zen—\* \*Like a snake crawling into a bamboo tube.\* \*Understand both teachings and Zen—\* \*Like the sun dwelling in empty space.\* \*Understand neither teachings nor Zen—\* \*Like a dog barking at a thicket.\* So together with brother Biyun, I immersed myself in the sea of scriptural study. The following spring, by the grace of the Queen Mother, a great assembly of offering was held at Mount Wutai. Master Jingyuan was invited to preside. I had the opportunity to follow him and receive the profound meaning of the \*Lotus Sutra\*. This elder was lofty and solitary in character, pure as frost in conduct—a true model of the Dharma. Thousands surrounded him. I benefited greatly from him. I also drew close to Master Miaofeng at Tayuan Temple, living there for several months. He was genuinely ascetic, clear about cause and effect, with vast virtue. I returned to the capital and also visited Master Huanyan at Tianning Temple—his noble style and transcendent bearing were beyond ordinary reach. These were all the eminent teachers of the time, worthy of being one's guide. One day, my original master fell seriously ill. I thought: The matter of the Dharma is vast. Though I'd caught a glimpse of the essential matter, I'd never received clear confirmation. If the master were to pass away now, what would I do? So day and night I never left his side. Once, in the middle of the night, I knelt and said, 'I have served the master for over ten years. I have my attainments in the fundamental matter, but they have never been examined and confirmed. Now I wish to present them. I dare not deceive myself with even a single word. I ask the master to confirm.' The master sat up abruptly. I poured out my heart completely. The master said, 'Since you are thus, I am thus.' I bowed. In 1607, I begged the master to return to Longchi with brother Sanmiao. The following year, in the twelfth month, when he opened the teaching hall there, he appointed me as Western Hall. I firmly declined. That winter I fell seriously ill. In the spring I recovered somewhat. The master then entrusted me with the dharma drum—the duty of teaching. Again I declined. In 1613, I was asked to manage the monastery affairs, but due to illness, I declined once more. Instead, I took refuge in a quiet room in Lingnan and entered retreat. All told, from my first aspiration to study with the master until this time, I had followed him north and south for eighteen years—traveling difficult roads, bearing hardship—all for the sake of this one fundamental matter. At year's end, I bowed and made ready to enter retreat. The master sent a verse with brother Biyun: \*This old monk now no longer sits in retreat.\* \*With nothing to rely on, I enjoy complete freedom.\* \*What was ever entered? What was ever left?\* \*Just this—moving through ordinary heaven and earth.\* I read it and composed verses in reply. But alas—that spring, the master passed away. I broke out of retreat and rushed back, grieving beyond words. After attending to his funeral and settling the affairs of the monastery, I took up my staff and, without lingering, returned to retreat. Layman Ning'an and other benefactors wrote letters urging me to leave retreat, but I firmly declined and did not return. In late autumn, my old illness returned. Several times I nearly died. By winter's end, my brothers in the Dharma insisted I return to the mountain. I, too, feared I might not live much longer, so I complied and returned to Longchi. I was bedridden with serious illness for a long time, bound by old karma. It wasn't until 1620 that I finally recovered. I then wished to travel everywhere, encountering conditions and extending a helping hand. By chance, I found a deep and hidden valley on the south side of this mountain. Twenty miles in, there was a place called Qingshan—the most secluded valley in Jingxi. On seeing it, I felt: 'This is where I will end my days.' That autumn, I cut grass and began to build a hut. After midwinter, with brother Biyun accompanying me over the ridge, I arrived during severe cold. The hut wasn't yet built—I didn't even have a place to stand. Everyone sighed when they saw this. The snow that winter and into spring fell continuously for over fifty days. No one came. Looking around, there were only hungry birds and wild animals. Stores were empty, grain was gone. The cooking fire was nearly extinguished. But I remained unconcerned. I leaned on my staff and told my attendant: 'If this old monk's time has come, then bury me on this mountain. No need to send my bones back to the Longchi stupa. In time, this place will naturally become a monastery.' Now, twelve years have passed. With the support of lay benefactors—especially the Wu and Cao families—this place has grown into a thriving monastery. Monks and practitioners following the stream come to seek instruction. They asked me to share my past journey. I have never been one to talk about such things. I never expected that today I would pour out this whole story to all of you—exposing my faults in full view. But seen rightly, it's all like flowers in the sky, like the moon in water—fundamentally without birth or death, without coming or going. Won't the wise laugh at this? If you want to accomplish this fundamental matter, it's not about tracing someone else's footsteps. You should encourage yourselves. Don't cling to my words." The assembly rose joyfully, bowed in thanks.