In the Buddha Hall, offering incense. "What talk of past, future, or present—all are right here within. Our brows and eyes meet face to face. Three bows must be paid, without fail."

The furnace is opened, and the Master ascends the hall. The Master approaches the seat, picks up the invitation, and says: "Though these are but ink marks on paper, they contain the vast essence; each word reveals the celestial secret, each phrase brings clarity and joy. You all add charcoal and fuel; this mountain monk can only fan the flames with the wind, lay bare the heart of the Buddhas and Patriarchs, point to the very life of humans and devas, and propagate the Treasury of the True Dharma Eye. Today, the great patrons all extend their hands together to lift the broken sand bowl. When host and guest meet, their spirits connect; surely they received the same prediction on Vulture Peak. Before the assembly hears further, let the Karmadāna announce."

Pointing to the Dharma seat, he says: "Sitting on the high curved bench, treading atop Vairocana's crown—only after dying completely several times over can one conduct this business here and now. Now the ancestral lineage flows freely, yet within the poison, descendants suffer harm." He then ascends the seat.

Holding incense, he says: "This stick of incense—before the primordial chaos divided, before yin and yang stirred—I take and burn in the furnace, praying for the long life of our present emperor, ten thousand years upon ten thousand years. May the emperor's heart unite with the people's hearts; may his sacred person be as enduring as the sun and moon. This stick of incense, covering all like the sky, supporting all like the earth, I burn in the furnace, dedicating it to all civil and military officials of the court, the officials throughout the land, the dignitaries of this province, prefectures, and counties, the respected local authorities, and the gentry of both regions. May they long be pillars of the state and eternal protectors of the Dharma. Together with all virtuous monks of the mountains and the present fourfold assembly, may they all illuminate the true cause of prajñā and not forget the entrustment from Vulture Peak. This stick of incense is not seen by the eye, not smelled by the nose. Since its origin is certain, now the painful regret does not cease. Without back or front, it never leaves for an instant; without fire or smoke, it burns day and night. I burn it in the furnace, specially offering it to my former teacher, the Great Monk Pashan, who formerly resided at Dongta in Jiaxing Prefecture, Zhejiang, and later at Shuanggui Hall in Liangshan County, Kuizhou Prefecture, Sichuan, the thirty-fifth generation transmitter of the true lineage from Caoxi, in gratitude for his profound, piercing, and severe reprimands."

Adjusting his robe, he takes his seat. The chief monk strikes the gavel and says: "O assembly of dragons and elephants in this Dharma gathering, behold the supreme truth!" The Master raises his whisk and says: "Already fallen into second or third."

A monk asks: "At Qingguo's meditation session, dragons and elephants tread vigorously, spewing clouds and grasping mists, each swallowing the cosmos. By what Dharma will you instruct people?" The Master says: "A clear breeze rustles the emerald bamboo." The monk presses: "Thus, the golden turtle adds auspicious colors; ordinary and sage alike are universally graced." The Master says: "Who within the four seas does not return to the emperor's transformation?" The monk says: "Understanding the profound kindness, one first repays the lord, ensuring peace day by day." The Master says: "Who walks the imperial street with you late at night?" The monk says: "Praying for the state and repaying kindness is now clear. Before Qingguo's session began, what then?" The Master says: "Able to be the master of all things." The monk says: "During Qingguo's session, what then?" The Master says: "Throughout the realm, nothing is hidden." The monk says: "When branches wither and leaves fall, where does the fruit return?" The Master says: "Look behind the head, even more refined; the wandering bee ultimately knows not where." Another asks: "Before the World-Honored One emerged from his mother's womb, how would you speak?" The Master says: "Shattering emptiness." The monk says: "After emerging from the womb, what then?" The Master says: "Observe the command's execution." The monk says: "Tell me, how far apart are you and this old fellow?" The Master immediately strikes him.

Then he says: "Lifting high the ancestral seal, a thousand mountains are one thread; proclaiming the ancestral teaching, all waters share the same source. Striking the bone to reach the marrow, tears drip from the wooden boy's eye; turning over the skin, the stone woman's cheeks appear behind her head. Splitting emptiness, single-handedly upholding the ancient mirror—driving away the plowman's ox, snatching food from the hungry. Breathing beyond the ordinary from before the empty eon, illumination and function simultaneous, person and object both taken away. Treading over seas and mountains, seeking a true friend elsewhere—even Śākyamuni himself would not dare look directly. Therefore, opening the furnace and holding the session forges to the end the life-roots of ordinary and sage; pulling out nails and removing wedges melts away the lump of obstruction. Clearly taking refuge on the edge of sharp blades, turning somersaults atop ten thousand heads—set the mechanism in motion, don't fall behind others. If not yet thus, then beneath the three rafters, one may still surpass the ancestors; on another day, hands and eyes pervade, sitting firmly in the ten directions. If you reach such a state, why need to draw a circle for a prison? So it is, exactly right to strike three thousand in the morning and eight hundred in the evening. Tell me: For the session and praying for successors, how would you speak?" After a long pause, he says: "The pillar has long been pregnant, carrying spring water home beneath the moon."

He further cites: "Our distant ancestor Linji and the official Wang Changshi entered the monks' hall together. The official asked: 'Do the monks in this hall still read sutras?' The ancestor said: 'They do not read sutras.' 'Do they still practice meditation?' The ancestor said: 'They do not practice meditation.' The official said: 'They don't read sutras or practice meditation—what do they do?' The ancestor said: 'I only teach each one to become a Buddha, to become a patriarch.' The official said: 'Gold dust is precious, but in the eye it becomes an obstruction.' The ancestor said: 'I thought you were an ordinary fellow.' From the perspective of this Dharma seat, when Wang Changshi and Ancestor Linji met as guest and host, it was like a gold buyer meeting a gold seller—needle and thread going back and forth, not yielding an inch in price. Face to face, they opened the treasure store; what is precious is recognizing your own family jewels. Today, the layman Chen Maoxuan, giving up wealth that is hard to give up in the world, has come to the mountain to make offerings, requesting I ascend this seat. Having nothing special to repay his request, I point out: there is smoke in the stove; the golden scales meet it every time. If someone asks: 'Do the monks in this hall still read sutras?' I answer: 'Passing through ten thousand blossoms, not a single leaf sticks to the body.' If asked again: 'Do they still practice meditation?' I answer: 'Filling the eyes, filling the ears.' If asked again: 'Gold dust is precious, but in the eye it becomes an obstruction.' I answer: 'Don't speak of sorrow to a sorrowful person.' Tell me: Is this the same as the ancients, or different? If you say different, heaven has no second path, sages have no two minds. If you say the same, clearly the moon is upon the plum blossom, but by the time you see the blossom, it is already late."

Again the gavel is struck: "Contemplate the Dharma King's Dharma; the Dharma King's Dharma is thus." He taps his staff and descends from the seat.

The layman Zhou Qizhan requested an ascent to the hall. Zhan asked, "Where should this single stick of incense be lit?" The master said, "Watch where the mouth opens." The layman said, "After all, please offer a word of instruction." The master said, "I cannot settle you." The layman said, "That precisely scratches the itch." The master said, "Do not be content with a little." A monk asked, "When floating clouds disperse and the sun is directly overhead, what then?" The master said, "Still floating and pressing." The monk advanced, saying, "A thousand rivers share the same moon; ten thousand households all encounter spring." The master said, "That is still a matter at the gate." Someone asked, "The matter beyond the highest, I beg the master to point it out." The master said, "Holding the sword sideways, the full command is upright." The questioner advanced, saying, "Thus, the Buddhas of the three times are swallowed in one mouthful." The master said, "Only value its circulation." Then the master said, "Every month, on the first and the fifteenth, the four assemblies hear with their ears and see with their eyes. If you further request to raise up what is beyond, you stir up the old ox and the white bull. The Dharma hall's bells and drums resound to the heavens, startling the stone tiger in the clouds. I feel there is nowhere to open my mouth, and can only scatter sand and scatter dirt, soiling the nostrils of the ordinary and the sage. Do not blame this mountain monk for being coarse." He further cited: "The monk Ying'an Hua asked Mian'an Jie, 'What is the true Dharma eye?' He answered, 'A broken earthenware basin.'" The master said, "According to Dharma Seat's view, the question is like a mangy pig scratching an itch—taking the wrong as wrong; the answer is like a disaster arising without cause—involving the descendants, putting a saw on a steelyard weight." He further offered a verse: "My teacher harms me with a broken earthenware basin; long has it boiled clear wind to receive honored guests. If indeed it is a homeless, wandering child, how can it be taken away like the smell of mutton?"

The master ascended the hall. A monk asked, "The Buddha and patriarchs first raised the true command, dancing the three platforms within a gnat's eye. At just such a moment, whose tune is it?" The master said, "The eight-armed Nata rolls an embroidered ball."

The monk asked, "The master now ascends the seat, with guests from all four seas arriving. May I ask, how does one look back?" The master said, "The heavens are high, all phenomena are upright."

The monk pressed, "What if someone with a copper head and iron brow were to come?" The master said, "Just right for a beating." The monk shouted. The master said, "Just the breath of porridge and rice." The monk flicked his sleeve. The master said, "Having fished through all the river's waves, a golden scale is rarely encountered."

Another monk asked, "What is 'illuminating the mind and seeing one's nature'?" The master said, "Borrowing an old woman's robe to pay respects to the old woman's year."

The monk pressed, "Not attaching inwardly to shadows, not seeing forms outwardly—where must it be?" The master said, "The dragon girl's bright pearl is left out at night."

The master then said, "The mud ox from the sea bottom carries the moon as it walks; the stone tiger before the cliff cradles its cub in sleep. An iron snake drills into the diamond eye; riding an elephant over Kunlun, an egret is led. Among these four lines, there is one that can release and seize, kill and give life. If someone can discern it, their study is complete. This is the lifelong skill of Gaofeng, testing all the monks under heaven, with none surpassing it. Yet it seems this line has not been examined. Qingguo also has four lines: Pulling loose and lifting the robe, just then exerting strength; a mouse swallows an iron pillar, Mount Sumeru grows drunk; on a stone sheep's head, a blind donkey sleeps; a turtle in the fire pounds the mortar with its eyes. Among these four lines, one reveals substance first and function later; one reveals function first and substance later; one where substance and function both vanish; one where substance and function both shine forth. Discern them, and your study is complete."

The master ascended the hall. A monk asked, "Topple the temple flagpole before the gate—this phrase concerns the life and death of all beings under heaven." The master said, "Only you alone are not included." The monk pressed, "Why am I not included?" The master replied, "Because your life-root is not yet severed." The monk said, "Master, do not press the noble into the lowly." The master struck him and said, "Considering you have come from afar, I will offer you a verse: Topple the temple flagpole before the gate, All phenomena in the universe turn upside down. Conflict and strife from this cease, White clouds still rest upon the green mountains. Is there anyone here who can take this up?" The master rested his staff on his shoulder and said, "Beyond a thousand peaks where the antelope hangs its horns, There is yet another antelope higher still."

The Master ascended the platform and cited a passage: "The Sutra of Perfect Enlightenment says: 'In all moments, do not give rise to false thoughts. Toward all deluded minds, do not try to extinguish them. Abiding in the realm of illusion, do not add conceptual understanding. Toward the absence of conceptual understanding, do not argue about what is real.'"

The Master then offered this verse: "In autumn, leaves fall; when spring arrives, flowers bloom. Winter is cold and days are short; summer is hot and days are long. The old fisherman sleeps soundly, letting the waves roll as they may."

He then threw down his whisk and said: "The sea god knows its worth but not its price; it is left for the world to shine its light through the night."

The Magistrate of Shehong County, Lord Shen Weiming, and the Commander-in-Chief, Lord Zhao Xianghuan, jointly organized a Ullambana assembly and invited the Master to ascend the hall. The Master pointed to the seat and said: "The Way is upheld by people; when the occasion arises, we perform as if in a play. Strumming a stringless lute, blowing a holeless flute—ordinary tea and rice are taken as something extraordinary. When the true command is fully raised, how many will glimpse it in an instant?" Then he ascended the seat.

A monk asked: "The twelve categories of lonely spirits—in which path are they born now?" The Master said: "Filling the eyes and ears—by whose power? Where the cuckoo cries, a hundred flowers bloom anew." The monk pressed further: "Since they have already attained great liberation, what merit does the Magistrate gain?" The Master said: "When autumn waters grow still, they merge with the sky's azure; the star of literature rises high, paying homage to the Purple Palace."

Another asked: "What is the realm of Great Liberation?" The Master said: "Let the later waves urge the former; boats ferry people across, three by three, two by two." The monk continued: "What about the person within the realm?" The Master said: "Green mountains only know how to grind away past and present; flowing waters—when have they ever washed away right and wrong?" The monk pressed further: "What is the matter beyond this?" The Master said: "Egret in flight, its shadow falls on autumn river; wind carries a fishing boat to shore."

Then the Master said: "The Persian looks up, nose stuck to eyebrows; the bright sun in autumn sky reveals liberation's pivot. Before the pivot—can it follow sound and form? From the very source—when has it ever touched mud or water? Yet, turned by the perceptions and consciousness of seeing and hearing, we still point to the place of seeing, hearing, and awareness. The lantern suddenly protrudes—eyes listen; the pillar unfurls—both hands dance. This is not worldly dharma, but the dharma beyond the world, solely teaching all spirits to escape the darkness of suffering. So it is, yet to speak of birth and death is like cutting turtle hair on an iron ox's back; to speak of no birth and no death is like breaking a rabbit's horn at a stone woman's waist. Abandoning these two paths, one dwells eternally in the Land of Constant Light. Without raising a single thought, one sees the Amitabha of one's own nature; without taking a single step, one is born in the Pure Land of mind-only. At such a time, heaven and earth cannot contain it; ordinary and holy are but forced names."

He gave a shout and pointed his staff to the sky, saying: "Sunset clouds and a lone duck fly together; autumn waters merge with the vast sky in one color."

Venerable layman Bin Wuwen, please ascend the hall. A monk asked, "What is the realm of pure fruit?" The master said, "The full moon cannot flow away from the twin streams; the peak is high, the nesting crane resembles a cloud bell." The monk pressed, "What is the person within the realm?" The master said, "Morning and evening, the bell and drum sound in due time; pulling the plow and dragging the hoe, strength is abundant." The monk pressed further, "The person and the realm have been shown by the master; what about the supreme ancestral teaching?" The master said, "The soil of Pengxi is good, but the salt of Shehong is salty." The monk asked, "What is the turning phrase?" The master said, "The bright moon hangs on the green pine." Another asked, "Everyone grasps the head of Vulture Peak, step by step seeking truth beneath their feet—why can't this student find it?" The master said, "It stands out, yet is hard to distinguish." The monk pressed, "When grasped, heaven turns and earth shifts; when released, the sea is calm and the rivers clear." The master said, "Be careful not to recklessly convey messages." Then the master said, "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven—a black rooster stands alone on the stove at night. Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one—the fisherman's boat is in disarray. Day after day, night after night, with a scale without stars, who can weigh it? Do not mistake bitter coptis for sweet grass; sugar is not honey. Take up where not a single thought has arisen, yet the myriad sounds blow through a flute without holes. Fools love to speak of flesh and blood kinship; much learning instead gives rise to thorns." He further offered a verse: "Returning or not returning—one is not one. Guishan merely kicks the clean vase. Yunmen may speak of six that cannot be contained—how does it compare to Yuanwu's 'not even one stands'?"

The master ascended the platform. A monk asked, "If every head is the Buddha, and every thing is the Way, why is it that when we meet face to face, we do not encounter it?"

The master said, "It has no face."

The monk pressed further, "Where does the one who shatters emptiness find his footing?"

The master replied, "In heaven and on earth."

Then the master said, "To single-mindedly point to what is beyond—it is like a spark from a stone, like lightning, like the antelope hanging by its horns, like grass a fathom deep. Neither humans nor gods can fathom it; the two vehicles tremble in fear. Therefore it is said: 'Stop, stop—no need to speak. My Dharma is wondrous and beyond thought.'"

He gave a shout, and descended from the seat.

On the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month, the Master ascended the hall to speak on the precepts. A monk asked, "The void follows the moon in its course—why does it never reach home?" The Master said, "Pushed, it does not advance; restrained, it does not retreat." The monk pressed, "What about when it neither goes nor stays?" The Master replied, "A whole cannot be split; throughout the realm, there is no square or round." The monk continued, "This is the Master's way of living. What about the student's?" The Master immediately struck him. The monk said, "Grind flour from wheat of another land; sing a song only as one from the emperor's hometown." The Master said, "A needle cannot pierce the spirit." Yaocai bowed, and the Master struck. Yaocai and the Master shouted together. The Master struck again, and Yaocai once more shouted with the Master. The Master said, "Like iron hammers without holes, we hurl them at each other." Then he said, "When the eighth of the twelfth month arrives, the carrying pole is wiped clean at both ends. The Persian laughs at the spring breeze—a scene of utter disarray. Turning over within sound and form, an ancient master through the ages. Tell me, is there anyone who can make flowers bloom by rubbing their eyes? If not, I offer a verse for all: Precepts practiced with diligence aid the path’s foundation; the slightest stirring sinks one into the mud. When feelings fade and things transform, what is there to uphold or violate? Just be one who knocks off fetters and breaks open locks."

The master ascended the platform. "The ancients said: 'When the moon is born, first—an iron ox without horns gazes at Shaolin; when the moon is born, second—a barefoot Persian enters the bustling market; when the moon is born, third—ice forms from water, blue emerges from indigo.'"

The master said: "Now, tell me, what is called the iron ox?" The master then raised his left foot. "What is called the Persian?" The master then raised his right foot. "If you can discern this, then ice forms from water, blue emerges from indigo. If not, take your own bottle to buy village wine, yet put on your robe to act as host."

Master Ning of Guocheng, along with the scholars Xun Yuncong, Yang Hanzhang, and Wang Chengliu, prepared offerings and requested the Master to ascend the hall.

A monk asked, “What is ‘taking the person, not taking the environment’?” The Master said, “Yellow leaves like golden brocade spread upon the ground; on the great road to Chang’an, few people walk.”

The monk pressed, “What is ‘taking the environment, not taking the person’?” The Master said, “The autumn wind scatters the mist and dust until nothing remains; drunk, I hear fishermen’s songs upon the river.”

The monk pressed further, “What is ‘both person and environment taken’?” The Master said, “Snow presses down, mountains and rivers both lose their color; the shepherd boy and woodcutter are nowhere to be seen.”

The monk pressed again, “What is ‘neither person nor environment taken’?” The Master said, “The golden list is posted, all gaze upon the names; the entire city is filled with the sound of reading.”

The monk said, “A single branch stands tall, flourishing for a thousand years; its ancient virtue strengthens the imperial capital.” The Master said, “The eye cannot take it all in.”

A question: “The entire great earth is the realm of Vairocana—why then does it fall into a sea of poison?” The Master said, “Seven vertical, eight horizontal, swallowed in one gulp.”

The monk said, “To recognize the wondrous phrase right before us, three mysteries are broadcast from the crown of Vairocana.” The Master said, “Do not feign understanding.”

The Master then shouted and said, “This one shout—even empty space cannot compare to it; how could it be confined to words, thoughts, or meanings? It can be the mother of heaven and earth; which of the four kinds of beings does not share the same body? It is not a clay statue or wooden carving. All of you, do not deceive yourselves. For forty-nine years, it has flowed on and on—truly, it is just one puppet show. If you recognize the root before birth, the two nostrils breathe out air. If you further ask about the Patriarch’s meaning coming from the West, the eye is filled with mountains, rivers, and the great earth. Call it worldly discussion, and it’s like a frog at the bottom of a well flapping its wings. Treat it as Buddhist principle, and it’s not worth a single penny. Yet though it’s not worth a penny, it is right beneath your feet. This mountain monk has already fallen into the plowing of the tongue-ripping hell—I only wish for all of you to realize it.”

He further cited: “Linji said, ‘There is one person on the highest peak, with no way to step forth; there is one person at the crossroads, with no front or back. Tell me: which one is ahead? Which one is behind?’ In Qingguo’s view, the distant ancestor Linji spoke of ahead and behind, of stepping out and stepping in, without feeling ashamed. Tell me: into what direction does one enter? From what land does one emerge? It is like painting a dragon or a tiger—the bones are hard to capture. The foul mouth just opens, and mud and water are not few. I shall further compose a verse:

The peak’s summit, so high, is not a person; Without cause, it washes anew through the four seasons. Lone clouds are originally guests without a home; At midnight, the rooster’s crow is heard upon the pillow.

‘With no front or back’—what is this? An ant carries it into a bird’s nest. In ordinary times, do not let dust defile it; A million bushels of jewels cannot exchange for it.”

The Master ascended the platform and gave this teaching: "There is one essential truth in the pure fruit; there is no need for repeated prayers. One ruler over the unified land and rivers—who realizes the wonder of a peaceful nation and contented people?"

He further cited a teaching: "In the scriptures it is said: 'All that can be returned is naturally not you; what does not return to you—if not you, then who?'"

The verse says: What is it that does not return to you? The oriole on the branch sings with skillful notes. The bright moon shines in autumn's clear waters; The mist and glow across the land are not like it.

The Master ascended the platform and said: "There is a single realm, pure and true, that has long awaited your understanding. If you mistake a turtle for a turtle, you will never awaken, even in a donkey's year. The more medicine you take, the more illness arises; the stronger the medicine, the stronger the sickness. If you try to restore the ancient family style, you will lose everything—bag and baggage. Now tell me, what is the ancient family style? When one person attains the Way, the borders are at peace; weapons are laid to rest, and all rejoice in great tranquility."

On New Year's Eve, the Master ascended the hall. "On the thirtieth day of the twelfth month, the drum is broken, the stone tiger leaps from the stove's fall. Turn it over and over, examine it closely—true gold remains mixed with mud. Mixed with mud, its worth lies in the moment of the great man."

He further cited: "Venerable Yanyang asked Zhaozhou, 'When not a single thing is brought, what then?' Zhaozhou said, 'Put it down.' Yanyang said, 'Since not a single thing is brought, what is there to put down?' Zhaozhou said, 'If you can't put it down, then carry it away.' At this, the Venerable had an awakening. Look at this Venerable—it's as if he carried a load of antiques everywhere, comparing them with others, yet he himself did not recognize their weight. Zhaozhou was adept at sailing with the wind, seizing the moment, tearing open the wrapping, weighing and measuring, leaving the Venerable with no place to stand, only able to touch the ground with his heels. A verse says:

Not a single thing is brought, The whole body stuck in mud and water. Pointing to him, 'Carry it away,' The scale weight grows two wings, Riding a crane to Yangzhou— How many, past and present, can achieve this?"

The master ascended the hall. "Today is the fifteenth again, the sun is right at its zenith. Don't ask about the guest within the guest, just look at the host within the host. It blazes through the vast emptiness, its spirit swallows all buddhas and patriarchs. When the form is upright, the shadow is also upright; nothing is hidden or covered. If you ask further 'how' or 'what,' dark clouds have already spread across the sky." He gave a shout and said, "The universe beyond the world is vast; within the gourd, the days and months are long."

On New Year's Day, the Master ascended the hall. Someone asked, "When leaving the old and welcoming the new, what then?" The Master said, "Roll up the blinds to face the bright day." The questioner pressed further, "When neither old nor new exists, what then?" The Master gave a shout.

If Shi asked, "What is the sovereign?" The Master said, "The supreme eye of heaven and earth, mountains and rivers all renewed in one color." Shi asked, "What is the minister?" The Master said, "Ever holding a heart of ice and snow, flowing freely in all directions." Shi asked, "What is the minister facing the sovereign?" The Master said, "A loyal heart always reveres the weighty, gathering thoughts to return wholly to truth." Shi asked, "What is the sovereign regarding the minister?" The Master said, "Serenely ever responding to things, everywhere a single wheel complete." Shi asked, "What is the sovereign and minister in harmony?" The Master said, "What obstruction could there be?"

Then he said, "At the start of the new year, Dharma exists— All phenomena stir and come alive. At the start of the new year, Dharma is absent— Early spring still cold, one longs for the stove. Everyone bows and congratulates, welcoming the new, But where has the old gone? If you realize the old never had a place to return, The cycle begins anew once more."

He raised his whisk and said, "Call this 'new'—it's like adding a head on top of a head. Call this 'old'—how could it bear to bury the family tradition? Call it neither new nor old— Yet again we see spring's birth, summer's growth, autumn's harvest, winter's storage. After all, what shall we call it? Let flowers bloom and fall as they will, even till the Year of the Donkey— All is upheld by this one thing propping up the gate."

On the Lantern Festival, praying for descendants, the master ascended the hall. A monk asked: "To expound the Linji school's style, one must possess the skill and vision of a true master; to continue the lineage of our ancestors, we need descendants who truly resemble them. Please, Master, continue the lineage of our ancestors." The master said: "Every nose points to the sky." The monk pressed further: "The auspicious dreams of bears and panthers shine through the ages; the phoenix descends with blessings upon the human realm." The master said: "When it rains, the ground gets wet." The monk asked: "When traveling and meeting no one, what then?" The master struck him. The monk said: "In ordinary actions, nothing is found." The master said: "Only the sound of misty waters stirs, the mountain moon reflects in the pond." The monk asked: "Where should I seek a sign?" The master shouldered his staff and made a fearful gesture, then said: "The sun, moon, and lamps illuminate day and night; every household sings and drums in unceasing celebration. Everyone trims the lamp within the fire, yet in the profound darkness, all is revealed. Shakyamuni revealed it in the snowy mountains; Lingyun scattered peach blossoms in a fleeting glance. If in every thought there is no confusion, good and evil vanish in the present moment. The ancestral lineage flourishes generation after generation; the mountain of life spans the empty kalpas. The Buddhas of the three times turn the great Dharma wheel upon the flames, and the flames speak the Dharma to the Buddhas of the three times. Now, what Dharma do they speak? I see the Buddha of Lamp Light, whose original radiance is just like this."

Tiger Chapter: Han Wenxue sends his son to be named, requesting an audience in the hall.

The moon reaches the high tower, filling the courtyard with its glow; A young scholar comes to present the Buddha's robe. The essence of long life has been present since ancient times, Yet the golden-faced one alone raises the flower at this moment.

Melons and vines grow in succession, the ancestral lineage is vibrant; A soaring eagle meets the sun-star in its flight. The crimson vine points directly to the path of clouds— Half serving the monastery, half serving the sovereign.

The Elder Xuanshu arrived, delivering the dharma robe. Leading lay devotees Chen Yilin and Chen Tengyu, he made offerings and requested the master to ascend the high seat. Xuanshu asked: "In the bitter, piercing cold, with auspicious snow falling thick and fast, what auspicious sign appears as the master ascends the jeweled seat?" The master said: "The golden crow has just emerged from the valley, illuminating the frost of the dawn sky." He pressed further: "When the venerable master now reveals the teaching, is it spoken for the sake of the Great Vehicle, or for the sake of the Supreme Vehicle?" The master said: "The land of true victory where golden light parts the dust; clouds of celebration blanket ten thousand homes."

He then said: "On the great Yu Ridge, strength is hard to muster; grievances have their source, yet how many sutras pass? Today, Elder Xuan personally presents it; descendants in turn lift it up again. Hordes of demons and external paths do not know its name; scales, shells, feathers, and fur are all cast aside."

Lifting the corner of the kasaya, he said: "If you can see it here, it covers heaven and earth, fully revealed. Supreme in the worldly and beyond-worldly, neither increasing nor decreasing, neither form nor emptiness, neither precept nor meditation, neither separate nor joined. Even if a thousand-zhang Vairocana body were to wear it, it would not be short; if a sixteen-foot elder bhikshu were to don it, it would not be long. Simply because it is forged into one piece, it allows humans and devas to gaze upon it with reverence. Do not blame him for his abundant spirit—in years past, he once trod upon the highest barrier."

At the Eight Precepts Temple, Dharma Brother Liu Xiu, along with Layman Liang of Jade Sea, requested an assembly. A monk asked: "In the Buddha Hall, the Arhats laugh ceaselessly—what is the meaning of their laughter?" The Master said: "Wait until the waters of the Eight Precepts flow backward, then I will tell you." The monk pressed: "They have already reversed their flow—please, Master, speak quickly." The Master said: "Since they have reversed their flow, what is there left to tell you?" The monk said: "I beseech the Venerable to give instruction." The Master said: "A young man's affair of romance—only the beauty herself truly knows." Then he said: "This place is where my Dharma Brother holds fast the throat of the Buddhas and Patriarchs, sweeps away the paths of sages and ordinary beings, severs the five-colored root of life, causing everyone to find joy, turning the dashing young master to walk barefoot backward, startling the fair lady to cast off all attachment to love. Such intimate, everyday matters—I dare not bring dust into this pure ground. Ashamed that we share the same Dharma milk, together we forget all distinction between host and guest. Now, how shall we speak of this forgetting? Look together—the gate of the Eight Precepts is wide, within it fish and dragons transform in countless ways."

Master Canwu, a lay practitioner, requested the Dharma seat. A monk asked, "What is the meaning of the Patriarch's coming from the West?" The master said, "Turning iron into gold is easy; being both loyal and filial is difficult." The monk pressed, "If so, then facing the sun, there is no front or back; meeting the body, the complete mechanism is revealed." The master said, "There is no place for your speculation." The monk continued, "If this student grasps the message, I fear the River She will flow backward." The master said, "Mind your eyebrows."

Then he said, "This mountain monk has not ascended the seat for a long time. Once I step out of the abbot's quarters, I pierce everyone's eyes. Students have not asked questions for a long time; every sentence leaks and stumbles. When the bell is struck and the drum is beaten, the fourfold assembly gathers like clouds. Not only do they imitate and sketch appearances, it is also like setting up camp and fortifying positions. Both sides lose it, failing to understand how to preserve and uphold. So tell me, how does one preserve and uphold? Without raising the slightest thought of cultivation and learning, in the formless light, one is always at ease."

The master ascended the hall and raised a case: "The Ancestor Linji, nearing his end, instructed the assembly: 'After I pass, you must not let my True Dharma Eye Treasury perish.'" The master said: "Trouble arises from such earnest instruction."

Sansheng stepped forward and said: "How dare we let the master's True Dharma Eye Treasury perish?" The master said: "He shoulders the entire burden."

Linji asked: "In the future, if someone asks you about it, how will you respond?" The master said: "Only when the blade draws blood is distant worry resolved."

Sansheng then gave a shout. The master said: "The true lineage flows on."

Linji said: "Who would have thought my True Dharma Eye Treasury would perish at the hands of a blind donkey?" The master said: "A belly full of sugar, yet what is spit out is arsenic."

Linji, in his ordinary manner, could swallow all buddhas and ancestors of the ten directions, skilled in seizing without leaving a trace. Yet in the end, Sansheng was like pure steel forged—meeting him head-on, truly a worthy heir who would not tolerate any pretense.

Therefore, the original master, at his life's end, entrusted a verse: "Those who gain my eye see rise and fall— Shallow is shallow, deep is deep. Do not learn from the blind donkey chasing the herd; To whom will you chant the verse of the broken earthen bowl?"

Now tell me: When these two elders faced their final moments, hanging an iron-stone heart from their brows, what mind were they employing?

With a thunderous shout: "The eaves' drip continues from last week's rain; The lightning's flash still connects to last night's thunder."

The mountain master Chen Mingyu requested the release from the retreat assembly. "The great retreat has never had a release to untie; untying knots is only spoken of to children. Movement and stillness are none other than the ancient practice ground; each person carries the moon on their staff's tip. By the wooden horse's hoof, spring beyond the kalpas; on the snail's horn, three thousand realms. All grievances and regrets melt away within; do not say the pure fruit speaks too much. Now, how would you express the phrase of walking freely and unrestrained?" He pointed his staff to the sky and said, "Water flows cold from beside the stone; wind carries fragrance from among the flowers."

Establishing the Gratitude Assembly, the master ascended the hall. A question was asked: "What is a dead phrase?" The master said: "Covering the head with a monk's robe." The questioner pressed further: "What is a living phrase?" The master said: "Looking out beyond the heavens." The questioner asked again: "What is a phrase that is neither dead nor alive?" The master said: "In darkness, it holds the colors of spring; in brightness, it reveals the light of autumn."

Then the master said: "Wives commend their husbands, sons commend their parents, yet all rely on striking the third watch at noon. The whole body manifests the eyes of Nezha—throughout the great cosmos, there is nowhere it does not fully appear. For countless eons, dual parents have gathered and scattered in emptiness; through ancient and modern times, fathers and mothers never leave the body. What is born and what perishes are not the true father; what neither joins nor separates is the true ancestral parent. When the cup falls, no one understands; in every home, the moon reflects on water, leaving no trace."

The master ascended the hall. A monk asked, "What is the master's way of life?" The master lifted his robe and straightened his posture, saying, "Every day, no distinction." The monk pressed further, "Is there anything beyond this?" The master replied, "What is this?" The monk bowed. The master said, "Do not be vague."

Another asked, "How does one advance from the top of a hundred-foot pole?" The master said, "Keep your eyes on the wooden goose in the mist." The monk responded, "Sitting still, cutting off all distinctions." The master said, "Your tongue chatters across three thousand miles."

Then the master said: "The forge of the monastery tempers doubts and attachments, Yet a single arrow's success is still not extraordinary. A true craftsman alone uncovers jade within the stone, Hammer and tongs strike directly at the stubborn skull. Turning the body, one penetrates beyond the primordial sound, Words and breath should not be fragmented or scattered. Without the strength of a lone rider with a single blade, You merely waste the cuckoo's blood staining the branch."

The Master ascended the hall. A monk asked, "This student has a pure fruit. I ask the Venerable to appraise its value." The Master immediately struck him.

The monk pressed further, "Apart from this, what then?" The Master said, "Not even caring for life itself."

Then he said, "Look—the winter month is half gone. Be careful not to make heavy calculations. This matter is the ancient family style; literary elegance cannot capture it. Stagnant water hides no dragon; a single goose flies across the autumn sky. Do not wait for horns to grow, only for the red thread beneath your feet to snap. The whole realm is utterly unobstructed; before your eyes, nothing is seen. Why bother asking the fortune-teller? Whose family is not fully manifest?"

He then cited: "Dongshan said, 'On Wutai Mountain's peak, clouds steam rice; before the palace steps, dog dung is the sky. On the flagpole's tip, dumplings are fried; three monkeys toss coins at night.' Dharma Seat, arriving here, simply would not let it pass—thus a dog's tail continues the sable."

He then showed them: "A stone ox spits fire, burning day and night; on the moon's cassia tree, someone swings on a swing. Three blind donkeys fight over a ball; Maitreya laughs aloud, taking the lead. These sayings, ancient and modern, must pierce through the crown of your head before they truly match. Do you understand? Even if the great sea dried to its very bottom, still I would not tell you my name."

During the Summer Retreat, the Master ascended the hall. A monk asked, "How is it when the great furnace is opened wide?" The Master said, "Even Buddhas and Patriarchs cannot tolerate it." The monk said, "A true man's spirit pierces the heavens." The Master said, "Even the blue sky must taste the stick." The monk said, "A dragon gives birth to a golden phoenix, shattering the azure glass." The Master said, "Again, the wind blows it into a different tune."

Then the Master said, "One Chan practitioner, one mouth— Binding themselves without a rope, they guard their own house. Ghosts and spirits see through it, all effort in vain— Don’t cling to yin and yang, don’t tremble in the dark."

Then, leaning on his staff, he stood upright, raising both hands as if holding up the sky. "If you understand here, With a fist you can strike down the moon at heaven’s edge— The tongue in every mouth is the same in every home."