---
title: "終南山蟠龍子肅禪師語錄 · 行實"
description: "終南山蟠龍子肅禪師語錄是清代禪宗重要文獻，由弟子超遠講述，性明編輯，海闊等人記錄。該語錄成書於清初，反映了當時禪宗在終南山一帶的傳承與發展。內容主要收錄子肅禪師的開示、機鋒語句及修行指導，體現了臨濟宗直指人心、見性成佛的禪風。此語錄不僅是研究清代禪宗思想與實踐的關鍵資料，也是後世學人參究心性的重要依據，在漢傳佛教語錄體系中具有承先啟後的學術價值與修行指導意義。"
url: "https://rushiwowen.co/en/r/cmgn1a7gq3nw9l4041uog3n76"
---

### 行實

> Practice and Realization

師諱超遠，字子肅，無為州人，俗姓趙。母沙氏，夢僧乘牛車投宿而孕。崇禎辛未十月十八辰時生，纔離襁褓，喜趺坐。六歲，出家于四面山水潔泉禪師座前，後住六安山摩雲菴。十八歲，聞採茶歌云：「一寸光陰一寸金，寸金難買寸光陰」之句，忽覺生死事大，虛度光陰，直得淚墮如雨。乃發四弘誓願：「十方諸佛若不滿我此願，我即與他一刀兩段。」從此痛念生死，不敢放逸。常禮觀世音，持大悲咒百八卷為定課，日不少怠。柰師身多疾患，志尚清平，任運隨緣，了無畜積。常憶古云：「進道嚴身，三常不足。予何人哉！」二十二歲，參會山元老尊宿，受具足戒。次參華山見月和尚，學律。復參廣教天章和尚，蒙示三不是，少有趨向。三十四歲，參浮山文弱盈和尚，命為悅眾。冬期，眾求打七，師即嚴整。七堂起七，老人落堂，師即出問：「不是心，不是佛，不是物，畢竟是箇甚麼？」老人便與劈頭痛棒。師自此疑情頓發，雖在眾中，如無一人相似。至第四日，聞含璞師云：「空手把鋤頭，步行騎水牛，人從橋上過，橋流水不流。」忽然打破疑團，如放下千斤擔子一般，又如羅網中跳出來一般，又如窮子歸家見親生父母一般，世間最樂之樂無過於此。始信古人道：「但辦肯心，必不相賺。」今果然也。又憶古人云：「若要脫生死，須透祖師關。如何是祖師關？喚作竹篦則觸，不喚作竹篦則背，畢竟喚作箇甚麼？」一舉了然，又將乾屎橛、柏樹子、麻三斤，蜜舉驗之，無不了了。天浪師問：「不是心，不是佛，不是物，是箇甚麼？」師便喝，浪云：「亂喝。」師又喝，浪云：「除此一喝道看。」師云：「即此一喝用之不盡，更要道箇甚麼？」含璞師問：「經行的是誰？」師云：「瞞我不得。」璞云：「後邊立的是誰？」師云：「莫眼花。」璞云：「死了燒了聻？」師云：「何處不稱尊？」璞云：「似則似，是則未是。」師一喝便行。老人問：「南泉道：『不是心，不是佛，不是物。』浮山道：『即是心，即是佛，即是物。』你道南泉是？浮山是？」師即捉取老人鬚云：「和尚鬍鬚遮樣長。」老人云：「我的鬍鬚與你不相干。」師便作掌勢，老人云：「不是遮箇道理。」師云：「也少他遮一掌不得。」師即便禮退，隨後入室，從頭吐露一番，老人即便落堂，纔據坐，師即出眾奪取拄杖拋向人前，老人云：「遮孟八郎漢猶來拔我虎鬚。」師即呵呵大笑。到此方知有意氣時添意氣，不風流處自風流。浮山老人過舒州騎龍菴，師即至彼省覲。老人一見便問：「三日不相見，莫作等閒看。」師云：「上是天，下是地。」老人云：「恁麼則等閒也。」師云：「低聲，低聲。」老人即付偈云：「無位真人乾屎橛，諦當未徹與君說。紫羅帳裏撒珍珠，信手拈來休甄別。末後句，已饒舌，天上人間無二月。」又云：「汝當傳臨濟正宗三十三代龍池萬老和尚法孫，浮山文老僧之嫡嗣也。汝名超遠，善自護持。」師自此憶入終南，潛形山谷而已。三十七歲過秦川。康熙十一年壬子秋八月十九日，住華州終南山蟠龍古寺。正直殿頹堂朽，山荒路塞，禪朋罕到，猛虎時遊。師以栽松種竹為事，安貧樂道為心，所以不懼危亡，宴然而居，四顧無人，孤峰絕侶。至十七年戊午冬，不期諸寺道兄恭請就本山開堂，師亦固辭不已，久而應命。三年結制，法席方成，四眾交遊，山林如市。師即示眾云：「古人有言：時當減劫，高岸深崖，遷變不常。惟此深山窮谷，只宜冷淡清虛而已。」從此更不陞堂入室，直以持戒念佛，禮誦華嚴，以酬十方信施。師有偈云：「梧桐葉落一天秋，山翁收攝釣魚舟。袖手松巔無一物，白雲流水自悠悠。」

> The Master, whose monastic name was Chaoyuan and courtesy name Zishu, came from Wuwei Prefecture. His lay surname was Zhao. His mother, née Sha, dreamed of a monk arriving on an ox-drawn cart seeking lodging, and became pregnant. He was born at the hour of Chen on the eighteenth day of the tenth month in the year of Xinwei during the Chongzhen reign. Even as an infant, just out of swaddling, he delighted in sitting cross-legged. At age six, he left home to become a monk under the guidance of Zen Master Shuijie at Simian Mountain. Later, he resided at Moyun Nunnery on Liu'an Mountain. At eighteen, he heard a tea-picking song: "An inch of time is an inch of gold, but an inch of gold cannot buy an inch of time." Suddenly, he realized the great matter of birth and death, and how he was squandering his time. Tears streamed down his face like rain. He then made the Four Great Vows: "If the Buddhas of the ten directions do not fulfill this vow of mine, I will cut them in two with one stroke." From then on, he was deeply mindful of birth and death and dared not be negligent. He regularly paid homage to Guanyin and made reciting the Great Compassion Mantra one hundred and eight times his daily practice, never slacking. But the Master's body was plagued with illness. His aspirations favored a quiet and simple life, allowing things to take their natural course without accumulating possessions. He often recalled an ancient saying: "In advancing on the path and disciplining the body, three things are always insufficient. What kind of person am I?" At twenty-two, he went to study with the elder Master Hui Shan, and received the complete precepts. Next, he studied under Master Jian Yue at Huashan, learning the monastic discipline. He further studied under Master Tianzhang at Guangjiao Temple, who taught him the "three negations," and he began to find some direction. At thirty-four, he studied under Master Wen Ruo of Fushan, who appointed him as the temple's chief officer. During the winter retreat, the assembly requested a seven-day intensive meditation session, and the Master rigorously prepared. When the session began and the old master entered the hall, the Master immediately came forward and asked: "Not mind, not Buddha, not thing—what is it, ultimately?" The old master immediately struck him a heavy blow with the staff. From this moment, the Master's doubt exploded into full force. Even among the crowd, it was as if no one else existed. On the fourth day, he heard Master Hanpu say: "Empty-handed, holding a hoe; walking, riding a water buffalo. A person crosses the bridge; the bridge flows, the water stays still." Suddenly, his doubt-clump shattered, like setting down a thousand-pound burden, like leaping out of a snare, like a poor child returning home to see his own parents. The greatest joy in the world surpasses not this. For the first time, he believed the ancients who said: "If only you bring a sincere mind, you will never be deceived." And now, indeed, it was so. He also recalled the ancients saying: "To escape birth and death, one must penetrate the ancestral barrier. What is the ancestral barrier? Call it a bamboo whisk, and you hit it; don't call it a bamboo whisk, and you miss it. What, after all, do you call it?" With one raising of this question, it all became clear. He then took the "dried dung stick," the "cypress tree in the courtyard," the "three pounds of hemp" and tested them one by one—all thoroughly understood. Master Tianlang asked: "Not mind, not Buddha, not thing—what is it?" The Master gave a shout. Tianlang said: "That's a reckless shout." The Master shouted again. Tianlang said: "Now, aside from this shout, show me something." The Master said: "This one shout is already more than enough. What more could you want?" Master Hanpu asked: "Who is the one walking in meditation?" The Master said: "You can't fool me." Hanpu said: "Who is that standing behind?" The Master said: "Your eyes are playing tricks on you." Hanpu said: "What about when you're dead and burned?" The Master said: "Where would you not be honored?" Hanpu said: "It resembles it, resembles it, but it's not quite it." The Master gave a shout and walked off. The old master asked: "Nanquan said: 'Not mind, not Buddha, not thing.' Fushan said: 'Just mind, just Buddha, just thing.' You tell me—is Nanquan right, or is Fushan right?" The Master immediately grabbed the old master's beard and said: "Master, your beard is quite long." The old master said: "My beard has nothing to do with you." The Master made a gesture of striking. The old master said: "That's not the principle." The Master said: "Still, this one strike would not be unwarranted." The Master then bowed and withdrew. Later, entering the abbot's quarters, he poured out the whole matter from beginning to end. The old master then came down into the hall, and just as he took his seat, the Master stepped forward, snatched the staff from him, and tossed it in front of the crowd. The old master said: "This reckless fellow still dares to pull my tiger's whiskers!" The Master burst into loud laughter. Only now did he realize: "When there is spirit, add spirit; where there is no elegance, grace comes of itself." His joy was boundless. The old master of Fushan passed through Qilong Nunnery in Shuzhou, and the Master went there to pay his respects. As soon as the old master saw him, he asked: "Three days without seeing each other—don't take it lightly." The Master said: "Above is heaven, below is earth." The old master said: "In that case, it's rather ordinary." The Master said: "Speak softly, speak softly." The old master then presented him with a verse: "The man of no rank, the dried dung stick— If you haven't fully penetrated, let me tell you now. In the purple gauze tent, pearls are scattered; Pick them up as they come, don't discriminate. The final word—already I've said too much. In heaven above and the human world, there are not two moons." And he further said: "You are to be the thirty-third generation heir of the Linji orthodox lineage, dharma-grandson of the venerable Master Wanlao of Longchi, and the true successor of this old monk Wen of Fushan. Your name is Chaoyuan—take good care of it." From that time, the Master thought only of retreating to Zhongnan Mountain and hiding himself in the valleys. At thirty-seven, he passed through Qinchuan. In the autumn of the nineteenth day of the eighth month, in the year of Renzi, the eleventh year of the Kangxi reign, he took up residence at the ancient Panlong Temple on Zhongnan Mountain in Huazhou. The hall was collapsing, the shrine decaying, the mountain barren, the paths blocked. Zen companions rarely came, and fierce tigers often roamed. The Master occupied himself with planting pines and bamboo, and his heart was set on contented poverty and delight in the Way. So he feared neither peril nor death, dwelling peacefully—alone on the peak, with not a soul in sight, unattended and solitary. In the winter of the seventeenth year, Wuwu in the cycle, unexpected requests came from dharma-brothers of various temples urging him to assume the abbacy and give lectures at his mountain. The Master declined repeatedly but, unable to refuse, eventually accepted. After three years of formal practice periods, the dharma seat was established, disciples from all quarters flocked, and the mountain forest became as busy as a marketplace. The Master then addressed the assembly: "The ancients said: In this age of decline, even high cliffs and deep valleys shift without cease. Only in these remote mountain valleys should one remain simply cool and empty." From then on, he no longer ascended the hall for formal teachings, but simply upheld the precepts, chanted the Buddha's name, and recited the Avatamsaka Sutra to repay the faithful donations of the ten directions. The Master left this verse: "Indus leaves fall—one day of autumn in the sky. The mountain hermit reels in his fishing boat. Hands in sleeves atop the pines, not a single thing— White clouds and flowing waters drift and flow on their own."