Preface to the Recorded Sayings of Zen Master Yinyuan

With sincere reverence, I carefully studied the records of Zen Master Yinyuan's three assembly teachings. Nine out of ten of his activities were centered around Huangbo Mountain, while his invitations to Fuyan and Longquan accounted for barely one-tenth. From the earlier Dingchou year to the later Xinmao year, through twenty-four full cycles of intensive practice sessions—from their commencement to their conclusion—most took place at Huangbo. Whether it was carrying water, shouldering firewood, moving bricks, handling tiles, constructing halls, or reviewing scriptures—all the hundred tasks that flourished—the completion of the late Master Zhongtian's forty-year Dharma seat and its many unfinished affairs also largely occurred at Huangbo, as clearly detailed in the accounts of his deeds.

Originally, Zen Master Yun of Huangbo was born in Fujian, yet the name of Fuqing's mountain was not yet renowned. It was from Duanji that the name "Huangbo" became established, and with that name, the mountain where he resided was also named. It was through Master Fei that Duanji's legacy was revived to propagate Huangbo's teaching. Then, Zen Master Yinyuan further inherited and magnificently expanded it, building upon the foundation and hall, causing one Huangbo to manifest countless Huangbos. Is this not a most extraordinary karmic connection, both within and beyond this world?

Furthermore, as recorded in the accounts of his deeds: when he first sought guidance from the elder Master Mi, after enduring severe blows and fiery shouts, he experienced a great awakening. The depths of his source had already been perceived by Wufeng. Moreover, with the "Fire Rake" case and the verse of ancient approval, he was exceptionally regarded by Elder Mi for more than just a day. Yet, ultimately, the transmission of the robe and the whisk fell to Master Fei, making him truly worthy of being Yinyuan's head seat. This is just like Yuquan and Tanyi, who long followed Foguo and believed themselves free of doubt, with everyone approving—yet ultimately, it was Miaoxi who publicly announced it. They came from afar to pay respects, entered the chamber, received the seal, and became disciples of Jingshan. Today's Tiantong is the Foguo of the past; the Jingshan of old is the Jingshan of today. Turning over old traces of the stick, lifting the new true command—is this not also a most extraordinary karmic connection, both within and beyond this world?

Directly pointing at the gate, beyond the sound of creation—able to mock the wind and play with the moon, display supernatural powers, shake the earth and overturn the heavens, fully revealing skillful means—unbound by the nets of humans and gods, uncovered by the veils of ordinary and sage. So vast and free, swallowing and spitting out the eighty-four thousand Dharma realms within the tip of a single hair, causing the Huangbo of a thousand autumns to radiate light that shakes the earth. This cannot be compared to or run alongside those who merely follow lines, count words, and fill libraries to the rafters.

The final phrase of that Xinmao winter, the concluding matter in Fushan Hall—there is a verse that says:

"The tortoise-hair whisk weighs a thousand pounds, Hanging in empty space, waiting for someone. When it strikes the true iron man without emotion, No harm in picking it up, sharp and new."

Reading this, one sighs deeply, stretches the neck, bewildered and unfathomable—truly like roaring whale-waves, layered mirage palaces, a clay ox fighting its way into cloud-wings, soaring southward, wandering freely in the land of nothingness, the vast wilderness. From beginning to end, it is one Tide-Sound Cave; the karmic connections of the tea server and attendants, from beginning to end, are one Huangbo Mountain.

From the karmic connection of Ping Shi's Caoxi drop of water, a hundred streams pour into it, never knowing when it goes yet never full; the tail-gate drains it, never knowing when it comes yet never empty. Truly, within and beyond this world, from beginning to end, it is one great, extraordinary, inconceivable karmic connection. On Master Yinyuan's part, it was nothing more than a single serving of ordinary tea and rice.

The sweeping道人, following the original verse's rhyme, praised with a quatrain:

"Accustomed to wielding the artisan's wind-pound weight, At the ends of the earth, the pearl-weeper mourns. On the staff's tip, he juggles the twin orbs; When the thread snaps, the performance ends, the melody fresh."

This serves as the preface.

In the mid-spring of the Bing Shen year of the Shunzhi era, on the birthday of the Great Bodhisattva, by imperial command, the Director of the National Academy, concurrently overseeing the Office of Sacrificial Rites, former second-class scholar of the Wuchen year, Vice Director of the Ministry of Works, Deputy of the Left Court of the Grand Court of Review, Dharma disciple of Caoxi, descendant of the Purple Cloud Flying Immortal, Dao Yi, lay devotee Fu Zheng, also known as Tan Zhenmo, respectfully inscribed this with Liang Shengfu Pan Tan.