For the lay patron, King of Zuobu, a brief spiritual inquiry.

"Coming without trace, going without place, a single beam of divine light, pure and utterly exposed, roaming freely between heaven and earth, the ocean clouds, the dew's announcement—truly hard to wrap up. Encompassing the ten directions, like a grain of millet, one hammer shatters the great void, amidst the myriad phenomena, I alone am revealed.

Yet, even so, you must not observe it through form or color. Therefore, the lay patron, Kunweng, attaining this samadhi, manifests a great body within Jambudvipa, plants the fruit of Buddhahood amidst a thicket of swords and spears, widely builds bridges, ferrying people and horses, restores temple halls, making offerings to Buddhas and monks, causing gods and humans to rejoice together, the sacred and the mundane to share in happiness.

And when worldly conditions are exhausted, he kicks off and departs, in a single evening, he is reborn in the Pure Land. Just now, hearing this mountain monk speak, he immediately, upon the tip of the whisk, majestically reveals a wondrous realm, performs an extraordinary deed, and meets with all of you.

Now, I ask: Do you all see? If you see here, then you know the place where all Buddhas of the past and ancestral teachers throughout the ages have established their abode and found their life. If you know the place where all Buddhas and ancestral teachers have established their abode and found their life, then you know the place where your own radiant spirit has established its abode and found its life. Since you know your own place of abode and life, then you know that my great lay patron, in life, was never truly born, and in death, how could he ever truly die? It is like the pure moon disk, pervading all realms, dwelling wherever it rests.

I dare ask the assembly: Where, then, does the great lay patron Wang dwell right now?"

With a flick of the whisk, he said: "In the wondrous, pure, and majestic land, serenely seated upon a white lotus flower."

Master Li of Qianfu Manor has requested a Dharma talk before the spirit of Lady Wang. Raising his whisk, he draws a circle in the air and says:

“The crescent moon now full, a wheel of jade in the sky; The autumn wind first stirs, testing the heavens high. Who moves the axis of earth, the pivot of the sky? That sends the withered leaves drifting far and nigh.

Thus, autumn’s colors clear, heaven and earth turn stern; The wind blows free and chill, warmth and coolness churn. Crickets chirp by hidden steps, wild geese weep ’cross the dome— Each one pierces seven holes, eight caves they freely roam, Clearly layered a hundred folds, a thousand turns they form.

Seeing it thus, we know: this is the moment Lady Wang Returns to the root, restores her life’s command. Thus they ask this mountain monk to speak before her spirit, To lift this matter up, that life and death may hear it.

Yet dare I ask this assembly: Where has Lady Wang’s true spirit gone now, tell me?”

Again, he traces a circle with his whisk and says:

“The pillar stands plain, without front or back— Where else would you seek the red lamp’s track?”