佛果圜悟禪師碧巖錄

CASE 41: ZHAOZHOU’S GREAT DEATH

INTRODUCTION: Where right and wrong are tightly bound, even a sage cannot know. When opposition and accord crisscross freely, even a Buddha cannot discern. One must be an extraordinary person beyond all peers, displaying the ability of a great being who surpasses the multitude, walking upon ice and running over sharp sword blades. Immediately, one is like the tip of a qilin’s horn, like a lotus flower in a furnace. Only one whose vision transcends convention can recognize a fellow traveler. Who is the adept? Let us see it brought forth.

PUBLIC CASE: Zhaozhou asked Touzi, “What is it like when one who has undergone the great death comes back to life?” Touzi replied, “Traveling by night is not permitted; wait until dawn to arrive.”

COMMENTARY: Zhaozhou asked Touzi, “What is it like when one who has undergone the great death comes back to life?” Touzi replied, “Traveling by night is not permitted; wait until dawn to arrive.” Tell me, what season and occasion is this? As soon as he takes up the flute without holes, he beats time and sings. This is called a question that tests the host; it is also called a question that probes the activity of the mind.

Touzi and Zhaozhou were both praised everywhere for possessing extraordinary eloquence. Although the two inherited different lineages, observe how their pivotal methods are of the same kind. One day, Touzi arranged a tea gathering for Zhaozhou.

With his own hand he offered Zhaozhou a cake, but Zhaozhou ignored him. Touzi then had a layman offer the cake to Zhaozhou, whereupon Zhaozhou bowed three times to the layman. Tell me, what was Zhaozhou’s meaning?

Truly, Zhaozhou, on the basis of the fundamental matter, brought forth the essential task for the sake of others. A monk asked Touzi, “What is the Way?” Touzi replied, “The Way.” The monk asked, “What is Buddha?” He replied, “Buddha.” Again the monk asked, “What is it like before the golden lock is opened?” Touzi replied, “Open.” The monk asked, “What is it like before the golden rooster crows?” Touzi replied, “There is no such sound.” The monk asked, “What about after it has crowed?” Touzi replied, “Each knows the time for himself.” Throughout his life, Touzi answered questions in this way.

Observe Zhaozhou asking, “What is it like when one who has undergone the great death comes back to life?” Touzi immediately replied, “Traveling by night is not permitted; wait until dawn to arrive.” It is just like sparks flashing when stones strike, like a flash of lightning. Only a person of the highest capacity like him could do this. One who has undergone the great death has utterly no Buddhadharma, abstruse principles, gain or loss, right or wrong, long or short.

Upon reaching this point, simply let it be so. The ancients called this: “On level ground, the dead are countless; one who passes through the thorny forest is an adept.” Yet one must still penetrate all the way through to the other side. Even so, nowadays it is already difficult to find anyone who reaches such a state.

If there is anything on which one relies, or any intellectual understanding, there is no connection whatsoever. Master Zhe called this “vision that is not yet pure and clean.” My late teacher Wuzu said this is “the root of life not yet severed”; one must undergo the great death once and then come back to life. Master Yongguang of central Zhejiang said, “If the edge of your words is even slightly amiss, you are ten thousand miles from the gate of your native village.

You must let go with both hands from the towering precipice and accept responsibility for yourself. After dying and coming back to life, you cannot be deceived.” Who can conceal this extraordinary purport? Such was the meaning of Zhaozhou’s question, and Touzi, being an adept, did not fail to live up to it.

It is simply that feelings are extinguished and traces are cut off; truly, it is difficult to understand, though a little of it is displayed directly before your eyes. Therefore, an ancient said, “If you wish to attain intimacy, do not bring a question to ask. The question is in the answer, and the answer is in the question.” Had it not been Touzi, it would have been difficult for anyone to answer Zhaozhou’s single question.

It was only because Touzi was an adept that, as soon as it was raised, he knew where it came down:

VERSE: Huó zhōng yǒu yǎn huán tóng sǐ

Yào jì hé xū jiàn zuòjiā

Gǔ Fó shàng yán céng wèi dào

Bù zhī shuí jiě sǎ chénshā.

TRANSLATION: Within life, having eyes, yet the same as dead;

Why must an adept be tested with medicinal contraindications?

Even the ancient Buddhas said they had never arrived;

Who knows who can scatter dust and sand?

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: “Within life, having eyes, yet the same as dead”—only because Xuedou was an intimate knower did he dare compose this verse. An ancient said, “He investigates the living phrase, not the dead phrase.” Xuedou said, “Within life, having eyes, yet the same as dead.” When was there ever death? Within death, the eyes are fully present, just as in a living person.

An ancient said, “Only after killing all the dead do you see the living person; only after bringing all the dead to life do you see the dead person.” Zhaozhou was a living person who fashioned a dead question to test Touzi, just as one tests medicine with something contraindicated by its nature. Therefore Xuedou versified, “Why must an adept be tested with medicinal contraindications?” This line of verse concerns Zhaozhou’s question.

The latter part praises Touzi: “Even the ancient Buddhas said they had never arrived.” This points directly to the place where one who has undergone the great death comes back to life. Even the ancient Buddhas never arrived there, nor have the old masters everywhere ever arrived there. Even old Shakyamuni or the blue-eyed barbarian monk Bodhidharma would have to investigate anew.

Therefore it is said, “Only allow the old barbarian to know; do not allow the old barbarian to understand.” Xuedou versified, “Who knows who can scatter dust and sand?” A monk asked Changqing, “What is the eye of a good spiritual friend?” Changqing replied, “Having a vow not to scatter sand.” Baofu said, “You should not scatter it again.” The old masters everywhere sit upon their wooden platforms, wielding staffs and giving shouts, raising fly-whisks and striking their seats, displaying supernatural powers and acting as sovereigns—yet all of this is scattering sand.

Tell me, how can one avoid it?

CASE 42: LAYMAN PANG—BEAUTIFUL SNOWFLAKES

INTRODUCTION: To raise it alone and play with it in a singular way is to be mired in water and stuck in mud. When beat and song occur simultaneously, there are silver mountains and iron cliffs. Deliberate over it, and you will see ghosts before your skull; ponder it, and you will sit beneath the Black Mountain. The sun rises and shines throughout the heavens; a cool wind blows swiftly across the whole earth. Tell me, did the ancients have any place where they went astray? Let us see it brought forth.

PUBLIC CASE: Layman Pang Yun took leave of Yaoshan. Yaoshan instructed ten Chan travelers to escort him to the outer gate. The layman pointed to the snow in the sky and said, “Beautiful snowflakes! They do not fall anywhere else.” The Chan traveler Quan asked, “Where do they fall?” The layman slapped him. Quan said, “Layman, you must not be so crude.” The layman said, “And you call yourself a Chan traveler! King Yama will not let you off.” Quan asked, “What about you, Layman?” The layman slapped him again and said, “Your eyes see as though blind; your mouth speaks as though mute.” (Xuedou said separately, “When he first asked where they fell, he should simply have seized a snowball and struck him at once.”)

EXPLANATION: Layman Pang consulted both Mazu and Shitou and composed verses concerning each encounter. When he first called upon Shitou, he asked, “Who is the one who does not keep company with the myriad dharmas?” Before he had finished speaking, Shitou covered his mouth, and he immediately awakened. He composed this verse:

Later he went to consult Mazu and asked, “Who is the one who does not keep company with the myriad dharmas?” Mazu replied, “When you have swallowed all the water of the Western River in a single gulp, I will tell you.” The layman suddenly attained great awakening and composed this verse:

“The ten directions gather in a single assembly;
Each and every one studies nonaction.
This is the examination hall for becoming a Buddha;
The mind that realizes emptiness passes and returns.”

Because he was an adept, he was thereafter highly esteemed wherever he went and praised everywhere. He visited Yaoshan many times and stayed there for long periods. When he took his leave to return home, Yaoshan, who held him in great regard, sent ten Chan guests to see him off. At that time snow was falling. Pointing to the snow, the layman said, “Beautiful snowflakes—each flake falls nowhere else.” Chan guest Quan asked, “Where do they fall?” The layman immediately slapped him.

Chan guest Quan was unable to carry out the command, while the layman carried out half of it. Although the command was carried out, Quan’s reply did not mean that he did not know where the layman’s snow fell; it was simply that each man’s dynamic action of rolling up and letting loose was different. Nevertheless, there was still a point at which he could not keep pace with the layman. Therefore, he fell beneath the layman’s estimation and could hardly escape his cage. After striking him, the layman further explained the principle: “His eyes see as though blind; his mouth speaks as though mute.”

Xuedou said separately, “At the moment he asked, he should simply have seized a snowball and struck him.” In speaking thus, Xuedou intended not to let Quan’s question go unanswered; it was only because Quan’s faculties were slow and dull. Chief Scribe Qing said, “The layman’s dynamic action was like a flash of lightning. How long would he wait for you to make a snowball? To respond the instant he shouted and strike the instant he shouted—that alone would have brought everything to an end.” Xuedou himself versified the point where he would have struck:

VERSE: Xue tuan da, xue tuan da

Pang lao jiguan mei ke ba

Tianshang renjian bu zi zhi

Yanli erli jue xiaosa.

Xiaosa jue

Biyan Huseng nan bianbie.

TRANSLATION: Strike with a snowball, strike with a snowball!

Old Pang’s mechanism is impossible to grasp.

In heaven and among humankind, none knows it for himself;

Within the eyes, within the ears—utterly free and at ease.

Utterly free and at ease—

Even the blue-eyed foreign monk could hardly discern it.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: “Strike with a snowball, strike with a snowball! Old Pang’s mechanism is impossible to grasp.” Xuedou intended to walk over the layman’s head. The ancients used snow to illuminate the matter of the single color. Xuedou’s meaning was that if Quan had immediately seized a snowball and struck, then no matter what mechanism the layman possessed, he would have found it difficult to turn about in time. Xuedou boasted of how he himself would have struck, but how could he not know that there was a point at which he too would have been defeated?

“In heaven and among humankind, none knows it for himself; within the eyes, within the ears—utterly free and at ease.” In the eyes there is only snow; in the ears there is only snow. This realm of the single color is also called the realm of Samantabhadra; the matter of the single color is also called being kneaded into a single mass. Yunmen said, “Even if you attain the entire heaven and earth without the slightest fault, this is still only a turning phrase. Not seeing a single color is merely half an exposition. If you require the complete exposition, you must know that there is an upward path.”

On arriving here, the great function must manifest before you. Even a golden needle cannot penetrate it, and no one else is permitted to pass judgment upon it. Therefore it is said, “He investigated the living phrase, not the dead phrase.” An ancient said, “A single phrase that merely fits the head becomes a stake for tethering a donkey for ten thousand kalpas. Of what use is it?” Having finished the verse here, Xuedou again turned the mechanism and said, “Utterly free and at ease.” Even “the blue-eyed foreign monk could hardly discern it.” If even the blue-eyed foreign monk, Bodhidharma, could hardly distinguish it, what would you have this mountain monk say?

CASE 43: DONGSHAN’S NO COLD OR HEAT

POINTER: A phrase that settles heaven and earth is honored throughout the ages; a mechanism that captures tigers and rhinoceroses is difficult for a thousand sages to discern. Right there, there is not the slightest obstruction, and the whole mechanism is revealed everywhere according to the occasion. If you wish to understand the transcendent hammer and tongs, you must enter the forge of an adept. Tell me: from ancient times until now, has there ever been such a family style? Let us see this case.

PUBLIC CASE: A monk asked Dongshan, “When cold and heat come, how can we avoid them?” Dongshan replied, “Why not go to the place where there is neither cold nor heat?” The monk asked, “What is the place where there is neither cold nor heat?” Dongshan replied, “When it is cold, the cold kills the acharya; when it is hot, the heat kills the acharya.”

EXPLANATION: Preceptor Xin of Huanglong raised this case and said, “Dongshan took his sleeve for a collar and cut an opening beneath his armpit, yet this monk was still not satisfied. If someone now came forth and questioned Huanglong, tell me, how should I drive him away?” The master remained silent for a while, then continued:

“Settling into meditation does not necessarily depend on rivers and mountains;
When the arising mind is utterly extinguished, fire itself becomes cool.”

All of you, tell me: where did Dongshan’s cage and trap fall? If you can discern this clearly, only then will you understand Dongshan’s Five Ranks—their mutual interpenetration, the straight and the inclined—and know that his way of receiving people was truly extraordinary. Only upon reaching this transcendent realm can it be so. No deliberate arrangement is needed; it naturally accords in a wondrous way. Therefore it is said:

THE INCLINED WITHIN THE STRAIGHT — At the third watch, before the moon shines, do not be surprised that, meeting one another, they do not recognize each other; secretly, one still harbors the resentment of former days.

THE STRAIGHT WITHIN THE INCLINED — A sharp-eyed old woman encounters an ancient mirror; clearly they face each other, yet there is no true image. Stop mistaking the reflected shadow for the head.

COMING FROM WITHIN THE STRAIGHT — Within emptiness there is a road leading out of the dust. If only one can avoid violating the present taboo, one surpasses the eloquence of those who had their tongues cut out in the former dynasty.

ARRIVAL WITHIN THE INCLINED — When two sword points cross, there is no need to evade them. A skillful hand is like a lotus in the furnace; indeed, it naturally possesses energy that pierces the heavens.

ARRIVAL WITHIN BOTH — Falling into neither being nor nonbeing, who dares accord with it? Everyone wholly desires to emerge from the ordinary stream, yet in the end one returns and sits among the ashes.

Yuanjian Lugong of Fushan used this public case as a model for the Five Ranks. If one understands a single case, the other cases naturally become easy to understand. Yantou said, “It is like a gourd floating on the surface of water: touch it and it immediately turns, yet it expends not the slightest bit of energy.”

A monk asked Dongshan, “What is it like when Manjusri and Samantabhadra come to inquire?” Dongshan replied, “Drive them into the herd of water buffalo.” The monk said, “Preceptor, you enter hell as swiftly as an arrow.” Dongshan said, “It is entirely through his power.”

Dongshan said, “Why not go to the place where there is neither cold nor heat?” This is the Straight within the Inclined. The monk asked, “What is the place where there is neither cold nor heat?” Dongshan said, “When it is cold, the cold kills the acharya; when it is hot, the heat kills the acharya.” This is the Inclined within the Straight. Though straight, it is also inclined; though inclined, it is also complete. This is recorded fully and meticulously in the collected records of the Caodong school. Under the Linji school, however, there would not be so much business. With a public case of this kind, one should understand it directly, right there.

Some people say, “It is very pleasant where there is neither cold nor heat.” Does this accord with the truth in the slightest? An ancient said, “If one runs along the edge of a sharp sword, one is quick; if one runs through discriminating consciousness, one is slow.”

A monk asked Cuiwei, “What is the meaning of the Patriarch’s coming from the West?” Cuiwei said, “I will tell you when no one is around.” The master then walked into the garden. The monk said, “There is no one here; please, Preceptor, tell me.” Cuiwei pointed to a clump of bamboo and said, “This bamboo grows so tall; that bamboo grows so short.” The monk suddenly attained great awakening.

Caoshan asked a monk, “When it is so hot, where do you go to hide?” The monk replied, “I hide in a boiling cauldron and a blazing furnace.” Caoshan asked, “How can you hide in a boiling cauldron and a blazing furnace?” The monk replied, “All sufferings cannot reach me.” Observe how a person within that house naturally understands the words spoken within that house. Xuedou used the affairs of that house to compose his verse:

VERSE: Chui shou huan tong wanren ya

Zheng pian he bi zai anpai

In the ancient crystal hall, the bright moon shines;

Willingly, the Han hound vainly mounts the steps.

TRANSLATION: The outstretched hand is one with the ten-thousand-fathom cliff;

How could the absolute and the relative depend upon arrangement?

In the ancient crystal hall, the bright moon shines;

Willingly, the Han hound vainly comes to the steps.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: In the Caodong school, there is emerging into the world to teach and not emerging into the world to teach; there is extending the hand and not extending the hand. If one does not emerge into the world, the eyes gaze upon the blue clouds. If one emerges into the world, the head is covered with ashes and the face with dust.

Gazing upon the blue clouds means the summit of the ten-thousand-fathom cliff. The head covered with ashes and the face with dust refer to the activity of extending the hand. Sometimes the head covered with ashes and the face with dust are themselves upon the summit of the ten-thousand-fathom cliff.

Sometimes the summit of the ten-thousand-fathom cliff is itself the head covered with ashes and the face with dust. In truth, extending a hand into the marketplace and standing alone atop the solitary peak are of one kind. Returning to the source and awakening to the nature is no different from discriminating wisdom.

Above all, avoid understanding them as two separate parts. Therefore it is said, “The outstretched hand is one with the ten-thousand-fathom cliff”; there is certainly nowhere for you to lodge your conceptual thought. “How could the absolute and the relative depend upon arrangement?” When it comes time to function, it is naturally so and does not depend upon arrangement.

This line of the verse concerns Dongshan’s reply. The latter part says, “In the ancient crystal hall, the bright moon shines; willingly, the Han hound vainly comes to the steps.” This versifies the monk’s pursuit of words. The Caodong school has eighteen kinds: the stone woman, the wooden horse, the bottomless basket, the bright pearl at night, the dead snake, and so forth.

In broad outline, these reveal the absolute position, like the moon shining upon an ancient crystal hall, where there seems to be a round reflection. Dongshan replied, “Why not go to the place where there is neither cold nor heat?” That monk was like the Han hound chasing a reflection, racing to the steps to seize the moon’s image. The monk further asked, “What is the place where there is neither cold nor heat?” Dongshan replied, “When it is cold, the cold kills the Acarya; when it is hot, the heat kills the Acarya.” It is like the Han hound chasing a reflection to the steps, only to find that the moon’s image is no longer there.

The Han hound comes from the Strategies of the Warring States, where it says: “The hound of the Han clan is a fine dog. The hare in the mountains is an agile hare. Only that dog is capable of pursuing this hare.” Xuedou cites this as an analogy for the monk.

Do you know the place from which Dongshan acted for the sake of others? The Master remained silent for a long while, then said: Which hare are you looking for?

CASE 44: HESHAN KNOWS HOW TO BEAT THE DRUM

PUBLIC CASE: Heshan instructed the assembly: “Learning through study is called hearing; ending study is called nearness; passing beyond these two is true passing.” A monk came forward and asked, “What is true passing?” Heshan replied, “Knowing how to beat the drum.” The monk further asked, “What is the ultimate truth?” Heshan replied, “Knowing how to beat the drum.” The monk asked, “I do not ask about ‘mind itself is Buddha’; what is ‘neither mind nor Buddha’?” Heshan replied, “Knowing how to beat the drum.” The monk asked, “When a person of the transcendent way comes, how should he be received?” Heshan replied, “Knowing how to beat the drum.”

COMMENTARY: Heshan instructed the assembly: “Learning through study is called hearing; ending study is called nearness; passing beyond these two is true passing.” This passage comes from the Treatise of the Precious Treasury. Studying until one reaches no-more-learning is called ending study. Therefore it is said: shallow hearing with deep awakening, and deep hearing without awakening, are called ending study.

Yongjia said, “For many years in the past I pursued learning; I too once studied commentaries and searched through sutras and treatises.” When learning through study has come to an end, one is called “an idle person of the Way, beyond study and free of contrivance.” Only upon reaching the point where study has ended does one draw near to the Way; passing beyond both kinds of study is called true passing. This monk was indeed keen-witted and immediately took these words to question Heshan.

Heshan replied, “Knowing how to beat the drum.” Thus it is said: flavorless words speak of the flavorless. If you wish to understand this public case, you must be a person of the transcendent way; only then can you see that these words are not bound to principle or nature and leave no room for deliberation. If you understand directly on the spot, like a bucket whose bottom has fallen out, only then have you reached the secure place of a Chan monk and accorded with the intent of the Patriarch’s coming from the West.

Therefore Yunmen said: “Xuefeng kicked the ball, Heshan beat the drum, the National Teacher offered a bowl of water, and Zhaozhou drank tea.” All of these fully presented the matter of the transcendent way. The monk further asked, “What is the ultimate truth?” He replied, “Knowing how to beat the drum.” The ultimate truth establishes not a single dharma. In the conventional truth, the myriad things are fully present.

The nonduality of ultimate and conventional truth is the supreme meaning of the noble truth. The monk further asked, “I do not ask about ‘mind itself is Buddha’; what is ‘neither mind nor Buddha’?” He replied, “Knowing how to beat the drum.” “Mind itself is Buddha” is easy to seek, but arriving at “neither mind nor Buddha” is extremely difficult; few people reach it. The monk further asked, “When a person of the transcendent way comes, how should he be received?” He replied, “Knowing how to beat the drum.” A person of the transcendent way is one who has penetrated through and is free and unhindered.

These four replies are taken everywhere as an essential principle and are called Heshan’s Four Beatings of the Drum. Similarly, a monk asked Jingqing, “At the beginning of the new year, is there any Buddha Dharma?” Jingqing replied, “There is.” The monk asked, “What is the Buddha Dharma at the beginning of the new year?” Jingqing said, “At the new year blessings unfold; all things are renewed.” The monk said, “Thank you, Master, for your reply.” Jingqing said, “Today this old monk has lost the advantage.” Among replies of this kind, there are eighteen kinds of losing the advantage.

Again, a monk asked Great Master Jingguo, “What is it like when a crane alights upon a solitary pine?” Jingguo replied, “Beneath your heels, a scene of shame.” The monk further asked, “What is it like when snow covers a thousand mountains?” He replied, “After the sun rises, a scene of shame.” The monk asked, “When the Huichang persecution dismissed the Dharma-protecting spirits, where did they go?” He replied, “The two fellows outside the three gates—a scene of shame.” Everywhere these are called the Three Shames.

Baofu asked a monk, “What Buddha is in the hall?” The monk replied, “Reverend, determine it correctly and see.” Baofu said, “Old man Sakyamuni.” The monk said, “Do not deceive people.” Baofu said, “It is you who are deceiving me.” Again he asked a monk, “What is your name?” The monk replied, “Hanze.” Baofu said, “What about when it dries up?” The monk replied, “Who is the one who dries up?” Baofu said, “I am.” The monk said, “Reverend, do not deceive people.” Baofu said, “It is you who are deceiving me.” Again he asked a monk, “What work do you do that you eat so much?” The monk replied, “Reverend, you are not small either.” Baofu made a squatting gesture.

The monk said, “Reverend, do not deceive people.” Baofu said, “It is you who are deceiving me.” Again he asked the monk who supervised the bathhouse, “How broad is the bathing cauldron?” The monk replied, “Reverend, please measure it and see.” Baofu made a measuring gesture. The monk said, “Reverend, do not deceive people.” Baofu said, “It is you who are deceiving me.” Everywhere these are called Baofu’s Four Deceptions of People.

Likewise, Xuefeng’s Four Lacquer Buckets—all these were masters of the school in former times, each bringing forth a profound and subtle principle as a device for receiving people. Later, Xuedou cites a passage based on Yunmen’s instruction to the assembly and composes this verse on the public case:

VERSE: One carries stones;

Another transports earth. To release the mechanism, it must be a thousand-stone crossbow.

The old master of Xianggu once kicked a ball;

How could that compare with Heshan’s knowing how to beat the drum?

I tell you so that you may know:

Do not be reckless and crude;

What is sweet is sweet; what is bitter is bitter.

TRANSLATION: One carries stones;

Another transports earth;

To release the mechanism, it must be a thousand-stone crossbow.

The old master of Xianggu once kicked a ball;

How could that compare with Heshan’s knowing how to beat the drum?

I tell you so that you may know:

Do not be stubborn;

What is sweet is sweet; what is bitter is bitter.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: One day, during communal labor, Guizong was carrying stones. Guizong asked, “Where is the rector going?” The rector replied, “I am going to carry stones.” Guizong said, “You may carry the stones, but you must not disturb the center of the carrying pole.” When a monk newly arrived at Muping, he was first made to carry three loads of earth. Muping had a verse with which he instructed the assembly:

“The road on the Eastern Mountain is narrow; the Western Mountain is low.
New arrivals should not follow the three loads of earth.
I pity you, who have been on the road for so many years;
Clearly failing to understand, you fall again into darkness.”

Later, a monk asked, “I do not ask about what is within the three loads; what about the matter beyond the three loads?” Muping replied, “The sovereign who turns the iron wheel issues commands throughout the realm.” The monk was speechless, and Muping immediately struck him. Thus it is said, “One load of stones, two loads of earth.”

“Releasing the trigger requires a thousand-jun crossbow.” Xuedou uses a thousand-jun crossbow as a metaphor for these words, so that one may see how the master acted for others. Thirty jin make one jun; a thousand jun are therefore thirty thousand jin. Only against a great dragon, a mighty tiger, or a fierce beast would one use such a crossbow. If it were merely a crane or some small creature, one certainly should not carelessly release it. Thus, the thousand-jun crossbow is not triggered for chickens or rats.

“The old master of Elephant Bone once kicked a ball.” One day, when Xuefeng saw Xuansha approaching, he simultaneously rolled out three wooden balls. Xuansha immediately made the gesture of splitting a target. Xuefeng deeply acknowledged him. Nevertheless, although all these are instances of the complete functioning of the great activity, none compares with Heshan’s “knowing how to beat the drum.” It is truly direct and immediate, yet it is difficult to understand. Therefore Xuedou says, “How could that compare with Heshan’s knowing how to beat the drum?”

Again, fearing that people might merely make their livelihood on the surface of the words, without knowing their source, and thereby become reckless and presumptuous, he says, “I tell you plainly: do not be stubborn.” One must truly reach this realm. If one is truly not stubborn, “sweet is sweet, and bitter is bitter.” Yet although Xuedou handles it in this way, ultimately he too cannot leap clear of it.

CASE 45: ZHAOZHOU’S SEVEN-JIN CLOTH ROBE

POINTER: When it is necessary to speak, speak at once, entirely without opposition. When it is necessary to act, act at once, yielding nothing of the complete functioning. Like sparks struck from stone, like a flash of lightning—swift as lightning, fleet as the wind, rapid as flowing water, urgent as walking upon a keen blade—raise the tongs and hammer of the matter beyond, and still you cannot avoid missing the measure and tangling your tongue. A single path is brought forth; let us see it presented.

PUBLIC CASE: A monk asked Zhaozhou, “The myriad dharmas return to the One. To what does the One return?” Zhaozhou replied, “When I was in Qingzhou, I had a cloth robe made that weighed seven jin.”

COMMENTARY: If you can understand at the place where one blow sets you immediately in motion, then the nostrils of all the old venerable monks everywhere will be pierced through at once. They will be unable to do anything to you, and water will naturally gather into a deep pool. But if you hesitate, this old monk is beneath your heels.

The essential point of the Buddha Dharma does not lie in many words or in lengthy discourse. Consider this monk asking Zhaozhou, “The myriad dharmas return to the One. To what does the One return?” Zhaozhou answered, “When I was in Qingzhou, I had a cloth robe made that weighed seven jin.” If you discern it on the basis of the words and phrases, you mistakenly take the compass and fixed star for an immutable standard. Yet if you do not discern it through the words and phrases, why did he speak in this way?

Though this public case is difficult to see, it is easy to understand; though easy to understand, it is difficult to see. When difficult, it is a silver mountain and an iron wall. When easy, there is immediate, lucid clarity, with no room for you to deliberate over right and wrong. This saying and Puhua’s words, “Tomorrow there will be a vegetarian feast in the Great Compassion Monastery,” are not two different things.

One day, a monk asked Zhaozhou, “What is the meaning of the Patriarch’s coming from the West?” Zhaozhou replied, “The cypress tree in the courtyard.” The monk said, “Venerable, do not use an object to point it out to people.” Zhaozhou said, “This old monk has never used an object to point it out to people.” See how, at the ultimate impasse where turning is impossible, he can nevertheless turn, naturally covering heaven and earth. If you cannot turn, everything you touch becomes an obstruction.

Tell me, did Zhaozhou have Buddha Dharma to discuss or not? If you say he had Buddha Dharma, Zhaozhou never spoke of mind or nature, nor did he speak of the profound or wondrous. If you say he had no purport of the Buddha Dharma, Zhaozhou never failed the monk’s question.

Have you not seen the monk who asked Venerable Muping, “What is the great meaning of the Buddha Dharma?” Muping replied, “This winter melon is so large.” Another monk asked an ancient worthy, “In the deep mountains and remote ravines, utterly deserted and without people, is there still Buddha Dharma?” The ancient worthy replied, “There is.” The monk asked, “What is the Buddha Dharma in the deep mountains?” The ancient worthy replied, “A large stone is large; a small one is small.” Examine public cases of this kind: where is there anything strange in their words? Xuedou knew where this came down, so he laid open the road of meaning and composed this verse for you:

VERSE: Pressing the opponent, he once raised the old mallet;

How many people know the weight of the seven-jin robe?

Now it is cast straight into the Western Lake;

To whom shall the refreshing breeze of the unloaded boat be entrusted?

TRANSLATION: Pressing the opponent, he once raised the old mallet;

How many know the seven-jin cloth robe?

Now it is cast straight into the Western Lake;

To whom shall the refreshing breeze of the unloaded boat be sent?

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: Among the eighteen kinds of questions, this is called “pressing the opponent.” Xuedou says, “Pressing the opponent, he once raised the old mallet.” “Pressing the opponent” means bringing the myriad dharmas back to a single point. This monk intended to press Zhaozhou into a corner. Zhaozhou was indeed an adept: encountering a place where turning was impossible, he had a road by which to emerge and dared to open his great mouth and say, “When I was in Qingzhou, I had a cloth robe made that weighed seven jin.”

Xuedou says, “How many people know the weight of the seven-jin robe? Now it is cast straight into the Western Lake.” The myriad dharmas return to the One—but the One too is unnecessary. The seven-jin cloth robe is also unnecessary; both are cast simultaneously into the Western Lake. At Xuedou’s Cuifeng on Dongting there was a Western Lake.

The line “To whom shall the refreshing breeze of the unloaded boat be entrusted?” refers to Zhaozhou’s instruction to the assembly: “If you come from the north, I load you up; if you come from the south, I unload you. Even if you come from Xuefeng or Yunju, you are still merely carrying a board.” Xuedou asks: to whom can such a refreshing breeze be entrusted?

“Loading up” means expounding mind and nature for you, speaking of the profound and wondrous, and employing various skillful means. In “unloading,” none of these profound or wondrous doctrines remain. Someone might carry a whole load of Chan to Zhaozhou’s place, but not a single bit of it could be put to use. Zhaozhou would simultaneously knead it all into one lump for him, leaving him clean, untroubled, and at ease, without any matter that might be called awakened or still unawakened.

Nowadays, some people understand complete unconcern as the whole matter. Some say, “There is neither delusion nor awakening, so there is no need to seek further. Before the Buddha appeared in the world and before Patriarch Bodhidharma came to this land, was it not already thus? Then what need was there for the Buddha to appear in the world? What need was there for the Patriarch to come from the West?” What relevance do any such views have?

You must first attain great and thorough awakening. Then, as of old, mountains are mountains and waters are waters; even the myriad dharmas all fully manifest. Only then can you be a person of complete unconcern. Longya said:

“To study the Way, one must first have a means of awakening,
Just as though one had once taken part in a boat race.
Although the old pavilion stands on vacant ground,
Only after shouldering the responsibility once can one finally rest.”

As for Zhaozhou’s seven-jin cloth robe, see how the ancients’ words are like gold and jade. This mountain monk speaks in this way, and you listen in this way—all of this is “loading up.” Tell me, what is “unloading”? Beneath the three beams of your house, look and see.

CASE 46: JINGQING’S SOUND OF FALLING RAIN

POINTER: With one blow, one immediately transcends ordinary and holy; half a phrase can open the bonds and loosen what is stuck. It is like walking upon an ice sheet, running along a keen sword, sitting within the mass of sound and form, and moving upon the very summit of sound and form. Set aside wondrous activity in every direction: how does one proceed in the space of a single instant? Let us see it presented.

CASE: Jingqing asked a monk, “What is that sound outside the gate?” The monk replied, “The sound of falling rain.” Jingqing said, “Sentient beings are deluded; they forget themselves and pursue external things.” The monk asked, “What about you, Master?” Jingqing said, “I do not forget myself at all.” The monk asked, “What is the meaning of not forgetting oneself at all?” Jingqing said, “To emerge in person is still easy; to speak free of the body is very difficult.”

COMMENTARY: You must skillfully advance right here. The ancients employed a single device or a single circumstance in order to receive people. One day, Jingqing asked a monk, “What is that sound outside the gate?” The monk replied, “The sound of falling rain.” Jingqing said, “Sentient beings are deluded;

they forget themselves and pursue external things.” On another occasion he asked, “What is that sound outside the gate?” A monk replied, “The call of a turtledove.” Jingqing said, “If you wish to avoid incurring karma leading to the Avici hell, do not slander the Tathagata’s true Dharma.” Again he asked, “What is that sound outside the gate?” A monk replied, “The cries of a frog being caught by a snake.” Jingqing said, “I would have said that sentient beings suffer, but there is also suffering that afflicts sentient beings.” These statements are no different from the preceding case.

If a Chan monk penetrates this, he will enjoy unhindered freedom amid sound and form. If he cannot penetrate it, he will immediately be dragged about by sound and form. Everywhere, this case is called words of “refinement.” If regarded merely as “refinement,” it only becomes a mental practice, and one fails to see how the ancients acted for the sake of others.

These words are also called “penetrating sound and form”: first, illuminating the eye of the Way; second, illuminating sound and form; third, illuminating the essential teaching of mind; fourth, illuminating deluded feelings; and fifth, illuminating exposition. Yet if one is not thoroughly mature, how can this avoid becoming a nest?

Jingqing asked, “What is that sound outside the gate?” The monk replied, “The sound of falling rain.” Jingqing then said, “Sentient beings are deluded; they forget themselves and pursue external things.” People mistakenly understand this as a deliberate attempt to turn the man around, but in truth that has nothing to do with it. Do they not know that Jingqing possessed a method for helping people? With great intimacy, he was not confined by any single device or circumstance and went to the utmost without sparing his eyebrows.

How could Jingqing not know that it was the sound of falling rain? Why, then, did he ask? You must understand that the ancients used a pole to probe the shadows in the grass, precisely to test this monk.

The monk skillfully pushed the matter back and immediately asked, “What about you, Master?” Jingqing then entered the mud and water and told him, “I do not forget myself at all.” It was fitting that the monk should forget himself and pursue external things, but why did Jingqing forget himself as well? You must understand that, within that testing phrase, there was immediately a place to emerge in person. This monk was greatly confused and sought to cut off these words by asking, “What is the meaning of not forgetting oneself at all?” In the lineages of Deshan and Linji, the staff and shout would already have appeared.

Jingqing went one step further and, following the monk’s entangling vines, told him, “To emerge in person is still easy; to speak free of the body is very difficult.” Although it was so, the ancients said that continuous succession is also very difficult. With this one statement, Jingqing caused the monk to illuminate the great matter beneath his own heels. Xuedou versified it:

VERSE: In the empty hall, the sound of dripping rain;

Even an adept finds it hard to respond.

If you say that he had entered the stream,

Then, as before, he still did not understand.

Understand, not understand—on South Mountain and North Mountain, the rain pours down.

TRANSLATION: In the empty house, the sound of falling rain;

An adept finds it difficult to reply.

If you say that he had entered the stream,

Then, as before, he still did not understand.

Understand, not understand—

On South Mountain and North Mountain, the rain pours down.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: “In the empty house, the sound of falling rain; an adept finds it difficult to reply.” If you say it is the sound of falling rain, you forget yourself and pursue external things. If you do not say it is the sound of falling rain, then how will you turn external things around? Arriving here, even an adept finds it difficult to reply. Therefore, an ancient said, “When your seeing equals that of your teacher, you have diminished your teacher’s virtue by half. Only when your seeing surpasses that of your teacher are you worthy to receive the transmission.” Nanyuan said, “Beneath the staff is the patience of the unborn; when confronting the pivotal moment, do not defer to the teacher.”

“If you say that he had entered the stream, then, as before, he still did not understand.” The sutra says, “At first, through hearing, I entered the stream and forgot the object of hearing. Once what was entered became still, the two characteristics of movement and stillness clearly ceased to arise…” If you say that it is the sound of falling rain, that is not it. If you say that it is not the sound of falling rain, that is also not it.

The preceding part of the verse contains two shouts together with three shouts. The adept who knows pivotal transformations is precisely the sort described in this verse. If you say that this is entering sound and form, that too is not it.

If you call it sound and form, then, as before, you do not understand its meaning. It is like pointing to the moon with a finger: the moon is not the finger. Understand or not understand—on North Mountain and South Mountain, the rain pours down.

CASE 47: YUNMEN’S “THE SIX DO NOT CONTAIN IT”

INTRODUCTION: What does heaven say? Yet the four seasons proceed. What does earth say? Yet the myriad things are born. Where the four seasons proceed, the essence can be seen; where the myriad things are born, the function can be seen. Tell me, where can a Chan monk be seen? Completely abandon language and activity, walking, standing, sitting, and lying down; sweep away lips, mouth, and throat—can you still discern him?

CASE: A monk asked Yunmen, “What is the Dharma-body?” Yunmen replied, “The six do not contain it.”

COMMENTARY: Yunmen’s statement, “The six do not contain it,” is indeed difficult to grasp. If you grasp it before the signs have differentiated, you are already at the secondary level. If you advance after the signs have arisen, you fall to the tertiary level. If you try to discern it through words and phrases, ultimately you will never find it. What, after all, is the Dharma-body? If he were an adept, as soon as he heard the case raised, he would immediately stand up and leave. If you wait to deliberate and anticipate the pivotal moment, then listen carefully to the judgment.

Elder Fu of Taiyuan was formerly a lecturer. One day, he ascended the seat to lecture on the Dharma-body, saying, “Vertically, it extends through the three times; horizontally, it pervades the ten directions.” A Chan traveler in the assembly heard this and burst out laughing. After Fu descended from the seat, he asked, “What fault was there in what I just said?

I hope you, Chan practitioner, will point it out to me.” The Chan traveler said, “The lecturer can explain only the quantitative aspect of the Dharma-body, but has not seen the Dharma-body.” Fu asked, “Ultimately, what would be correct?” The Chan traveler said, “Temporarily cease lecturing and sit in a quiet room; then you will surely see it for yourself.” Fu did as the Chan traveler said. One night, as he sat silently, he suddenly heard the bell marking the fifth watch and abruptly attained great enlightenment.

He immediately ran to knock on the Chan traveler’s door and said, “I have awakened!” The Chan traveler asked, “Try to say something about it.” Fu said, “From this day onward, I will no longer grasp the nostrils with which my parents gave birth to me.”

The sutra says, “The true Dharma-body of the Buddha is like empty space; in response to beings, it manifests forms like the moon in water.” A monk also asked Jiashan, “What is the Dharma-body?” Jiashan replied, “The Dharma-body is without characteristics.” The monk asked, “What is the Dharma-eye?” Jiashan replied, “The Dharma-eye is flawless.” Yunmen said, “The six do not contain it.” Regarding this case, some say, “These are simply the six sense faculties, the six sense objects, and the six consciousnesses.

These six arise from the Dharma-body, and therefore the six sense faculties cannot contain it.” If you form an intellectual interpretation like this, it truly has nothing to do with the matter and merely burdens Yunmen. If you wish to see, then see immediately; there is no place for you to carve and chisel. The sutra says, “This Dharma is not something that can be understood through thought and discrimination.”

Yunmen’s answers to questions often aroused people’s intellectual interpretations. Therefore, within one statement the three statements must be complete. Moreover, he did not fail the questioner: fitting the time and matching the occasion, every word and every phrase, every dot and every stroke, also contained a place to emerge in person. Thus it is said, “When one statement is penetrated, a thousand statements and ten thousand statements are penetrated simultaneously.” Tell me, is it the Dharma-body, or is it the Patriarch? I spare you thirty blows. Xuedou versified it:

VERSE: One, two, three, four, five, six;

The blue-eyed foreign monk cannot count them all.

At Shaolin, he falsely claimed to transmit it to Shenguang;

Rolling up his robe, he again said he would return to India.

India is vast and boundless, with nowhere to seek him;

Last night he came back to sleep facing Rufeng.

TRANSLATION: One, two, three, four, five, six;

The blue-eyed foreign monk cannot count them all.

At Shaolin, he falsely claimed to transmit it to Shenguang;

Rolling up his robe, he again said he would return to India.

India is vast and boundless, with nowhere to seek him;

At night he returned once more to sleep at Rufeng.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: Xuedou’s true skill lies in leaving no gaps; he brings forth the eye of the verse for people to see. Yunmen said, “The six cannot contain it.” Why, then, does Xuedou say, “One, two, three, four, five, six,” and immediately add, “The blue-eyed foreign monk cannot count them all”? It is because “it is only permitted that Old Hu know, but not permitted that Old Hu understand.” This must be returned to the descendants of that house before it will do.

As stated above, “A single word or phrase accords with the proper time.” If you penetrate this, you will then know that speech does not lie within words and phrases. If you have not yet reached this point, you cannot avoid giving rise to intellectual interpretations. Old Master Wuzu said: “Buddha Shakyamuni—a lowly servant makes himself the master; the cypress tree in the courtyard—one, two, three, four, five.” If, beneath Yunmen’s words and phrases, you can see through to the utmost, you will arrive at this realm.

“At Shaolin he falsely claimed to transmit it to Shenguang.” Before becoming the Second Patriarch, his name was Shenguang. Later, it was even said that Bodhidharma “returned to India.” After Patriarch Bodhidharma passed away, he was placed in a stupa beneath Mount Xiong’er. At that time, Song Yun was returning from a diplomatic mission to the West.

On a mountain peak to the west, he saw Patriarch Bodhidharma carrying one shoe and returning westward to India… Song Yun returned to court and reported this. The imperial court ordered the stupa opened for inspection, and only one shoe was found inside.

Xuedou said, “In truth, how could this matter have been entrusted?” Since it had not been entrusted, “he gathered up his robe and said he was returning to India.” Tell me, then: why were there six patriarchs in this land who successively transmitted it to one another? There is truly something extraordinary here; one must grasp it before one can enter. As for the line, “India is boundless, with nowhere to seek him; at night he returns again to sleep on Breast Peak”—tell me, where is he now?

The Master immediately struck and said: Blind!

CASE 48: ZHAOQING OVERTURNS THE TEAKETTLE

PUBLIC CASE: Grand Preceptor Wang entered Zhaoqing Monastery while tea was being prepared. At the time, Senior Lang and Mingzhao were arranging the tea utensils. Lang overturned the teakettle.

The Grand Preceptor saw this and asked, “What is beneath the tea stove?” Lang said, “The spirit who supports the stove.” The Grand Preceptor asked, “Since it is the spirit who supports the stove, why did it overturn the teakettle?” Lang replied, “A thousand days as an official, lost in a single morning.” The Grand Preceptor brushed off his sleeves and departed. Mingzhao said, “Senior Lang, after eating Zhaoqing’s rice, you go outside to the riverbank and strike a charred tree stump.” Lang asked, “What would you say, Venerable?” Mingzhao said, “The nonhuman has gained a convenient opportunity.” Xuedou said, “At that moment, he should simply have kicked over the tea stove.”

COMMENTARY: If you wish to know the meaning of Buddha-nature, you must contemplate the proper time, conditions, and causes. Grand Preceptor Wang was governing Quanzhou and had long been studying with Zhaoqing. One day, when he entered the monastery, Senior Lang was preparing tea and overturned the teakettle.

The Grand Preceptor was also an adept; as soon as he saw the kettle overturned, he asked, “Senior! What is beneath the tea stove?” Lang replied, “The spirit who supports the stove.” There was indeed an echo within his words, but the beginning and end contradicted each other. He lost the essential principle; touching the sharp edge, he cut his hand.

Not only did he fail himself, he also offended others. Although in this there is no matter of gain or loss, once it is brought up there are, as before, intimacy and estrangement, black and white. When discussing this matter, it does not lie in words and phrases; yet one must also discern the living place within words and phrases.

Therefore it is said that he investigates the living phrase, not the dead phrase. Judging from Senior Lang’s words, he was like a mad dog chasing a shadow. The Grand Preceptor brushed off his sleeves and departed, as though he did not accept him.

Mingzhao said, “Senior Lang, after eating Zhaoqing’s rice, you go outside to the riverbank and strike a charred tree stump.” A charred tree stump is a stump in a wilderness that has been burned by fire; hence it is called a charred tree stump. He used this phrase to indicate that Senior Lang did not proceed toward the correct place but instead ran outside. Lang turned the question back: “What would you say, Venerable?” Zhaoqing replied, “The nonhuman has gained a convenient opportunity.” Mingzhao naturally had a way to emerge and did not fail Lang’s question.

Therefore it is said, “A fierce dog bites a person without baring its teeth.” Venerable Zhe of Guishan said, “Grand Preceptor Wang was like one who went to steal a jewel but obtained only the tassel of a cap. Mingzhao could not bear to let it pass, for a good opportunity is hard to encounter. If Dagui had been Senior Lang, then upon seeing the Grand Preceptor brush off his sleeves and depart, he would immediately have set down the teakettle and laughed aloud!” Why?

If you see it but do not seize it, such an opportunity will be difficult to encounter even in a thousand years. For example, Baoshou asked Hu Dingjiao, “I have long heard the name Hu Dingjiao. Are you indeed he?” Dingjiao replied, “I am.” Baoshou asked, “Can you also forge empty space?” Dingjiao replied, “I invite the Master to smash it.” Baoshou immediately struck him.

Dingjiao did not accept it. Baoshou said, “Another day, some quick-tongued teacher will point this out and break it open for you.” Later, Dingjiao met Zhaozhou and recounted the previous exchange. Zhaozhou asked, “Why were you struck by Baoshou?” Dingjiao replied, “I do not know where my error lay.” Zhaozhou said, “You cannot even deal with this single thread, yet you speak of smashing empty space.” Dingjiao immediately fell silent.

Zhaozhou then said, “Forge this single thread.” At that moment, Dingjiao experienced an awakening. Master Mishi of Jingzhao returned from pilgrimage. A venerable elder asked him, “A broken well-rope is discarded by the road; at night, people take it for a snake.

I wonder, Master Shi: when you see the Buddha, what do you call him?” Master Shi replied, “If there is anything to be seen, one is no different from sentient beings.” The venerable elder said, “That, too, is a thousand-year-old peach pit.” National Teacher Zhong asked Imperial Attendant Zilin, “I have heard that you have written a commentary on the Sutra of the Questions of Brahma. Is that so?” The Imperial Attendant replied, “It is.” The National Teacher said, “To comment upon a sutra, one must understand the Buddha’s intent.” The Attendant replied, “If I did not understand it, how would I dare say that I had commented upon the sutra?” The National Teacher ordered his attendant to bring a bowl of water, seven grains of rice, and a single chopstick placed across the bowl.

He presented them to the Imperial Attendant and asked, “What is the meaning of this?” The Attendant replied, “I do not understand.” The National Teacher said, “You do not even understand this old monk’s intent, so what can you say about the Buddha’s intent?” There was more than one person who understood the exchange between Grand Preceptor Wang and Senior Lang in this way. In the end, Xuedou added, “At that moment, he should simply have kicked over the tea stove.” Although Mingzhao spoke as he did, he was ultimately not equal to Xuedou.

When Xuefeng was in Dongshan’s assembly, he served as the chief of the refectory. One day he was winnowing rice. Dongshan asked, “What are you doing?” Xuefeng replied, “Winnowing rice.” Dongshan asked, “Are you winnowing the rice to remove the sand, or winnowing the sand to remove the rice?” Xuefeng replied, “The rice and sand are both discarded at once.” Dongshan asked, “What will the assembly eat?” Xuefeng immediately overturned the basin.

Dongshan said, “Your causes and conditions are not here.” Even so, how could this compare with Xuedou’s words, “At that moment, he should simply have kicked over the tea stove”? What kind of occasion is this, of the very highest rank? When one arrives at that function, one transcends the present and penetrates the past, possessing a living and unfettered place.

VERSE: Lai wen ruo cheng feng

Ying ji fei shan qiao

Kan bei du yan long

Ceng wei cheng ya zhao.

Ya zhao kai

Sheng yun lei

Ni shui zhi bo jing ji hui.

TRANSLATION: If the question that came had formed the wind,

His response to the occasion was not skillful.

How lamentable, this one-eyed dragon,

Who had never yet displayed his fangs and claws.

When fangs and claws are displayed,

Clouds arise and thunder rolls—

How many times can waves beat against the current before returning?

EXPLANATION OF THE VERSE: The two lines, “When he comes to inquire, it is like making wind with an axe; in responding to the occasion, he is not skillful,” speak of how the Grand Preceptor’s question resembled wielding an axe so swiftly that it made wind. This alludes to a story in the Zhuangzi, which says: A man of Ying was plastering a wall with mud. When only a tiny hole remained, he rolled a lump of mud into a ball and threw it, sealing the hole at once.

At that moment, a small speck of mud fell and stuck to the tip of his nose. A carpenter standing nearby said, “You have patched the missing spot most skillfully. Let me wield my axe and remove that bit of mud from the tip of your nose.” The speck of mud on the tip of his nose was as small as a fly.

He asked the carpenter to hew it off. The carpenter wielded his axe so swiftly that it made wind, cleanly hewing away the speck of mud without touching the man’s nose. The man of Ying stood perfectly still, his expression unchanged.

This illustrates that both men were skillful. Although Senior Monk Lang responded to the occasion, his words were not skillful. Therefore, Xuedou said, “When he comes to inquire, it is like making wind with an axe; in responding to the occasion, he is not skillful.

How lamentable, that single dragon eye has never yet displayed its fangs and claws.” Mingzhao’s words were most extraordinary, yet he had not displayed the fangs and claws that gather clouds and raise rain. Xuedou, standing nearby, would not accept this. Unable to bear it, he spoke on Mingzhao’s behalf.

Xuedou secretly accorded with his meaning and himself composed the verse about kicking over the tea stove: “Fangs and claws displayed, clouds and thunder arise; waves beat against the current—when will they return?” Yunmen said, “I do not expect you to possess the ability to make waves run upstream; it is enough merely to have the intention of following the current.” Therefore it is said: If one can advance beneath a living phrase, one will never forget it throughout endless kalpas.

The phrases of Senior Monk Lang and Mingzhao seemed dead. If you wish to see the living point, simply look at Xuedou kicking over the tea stove.

CASE 49: SANSHENG’S GOLDEN FISH BREAKS THROUGH THE NET

POINTER: Piercing seven times and penetrating eight, snatching the drum and seizing the banner; through a hundred turns and a thousand layers, looking ahead and gazing behind; riding the tiger’s head and grasping the tiger’s tail—this still does not make an adept. The ox’s head disappears and the horse’s head returns—this too is not yet extraordinary. Tell me, what happens when a person who transcends all measure arrives? Let us bring it forth and see.

PUBLIC CASE: Sansheng asked Xuefeng, “When a golden fish has leapt through the net, I wonder what it uses for food?” Xuefeng replied, “Wait until you have come out of the net, and then I will tell you.” Sansheng said, “You are the spiritual teacher of fifteen hundred people, yet you do not even understand the crucial phrase.” Xuefeng said, “This old monk has many duties as abbot.”

EXPLANATION: Although Xuefeng and Sansheng—one emerging and one entering, one pushing and one shoving—had not yet distinguished victory from defeat, tell me, what sort of eye did these two venerable adepts possess? Sansheng received confirmation from Linji and traveled throughout the various regions, everywhere being treated as an honored guest. Observe the question he posed: however many people may probe into it, they cannot fathom it.

Moreover, it does not adhere to the principles or nature of the Buddha-Dharma. He asked, “When a golden fish has leapt through the net, I wonder what it uses for food?” Tell me, what was his meaning? Ordinarily, a golden fish that has leapt through the net no longer eats the fragrant bait of human beings; what, then, does it use for food?

Xuefeng was an adept and appeared perfectly at ease. He answered only one or two parts of the question, saying to him, “Wait until you have come out of the net, and then I will tell you.” Fenyang called this a question that “presents an understanding”; the Caodong school called it a question that “borrows an event.” One must surpass the crowd, transcend all categories, and attain great freedom of function, with an eye atop one’s crown, before one may be called a golden fish that has leapt through the net.

Who would have expected that Xuefeng, being an adept, did not hesitate to diminish the other’s prestige? Thus he said, “Wait until you have come out of the net, and then I will tell you.” Observe how these two firmly held the essential command, like sheer cliffs rising ten thousand fathoms. Had it not been Sansheng, he would have been unable to proceed beyond this one phrase.

Yet Sansheng too was an adept, and only then did he know how to say to him, “You are the spiritual teacher of fifteen hundred people, yet you do not even understand the crucial phrase.” Xuefeng then said, “This old monk has many duties as abbot.” This phrase is truly hard and lofty. When two adepts meet, one captures and the other releases; encountering strength, one becomes weak; encountering the lowly, one becomes noble.

If you conceive an understanding in terms of victory and defeat, you have not even dreamed of seeing Xuefeng. Observe how at first these two were perilously lofty, yet in the end both became dead men. Tell me, were there gain and loss, victory and defeat?

Other adepts would certainly not have replied in this way. Sansheng served as rector under Linji. When Linji was about to pass away, he instructed him, “After I am gone, you must not extinguish my treasury of the true Dharma eye.” Sansheng stepped forward and said, “How would I dare extinguish the Venerable’s treasury of the true Dharma eye?” Linji asked, “If someone later asks you about it, what will you do?” Sansheng immediately shouted.

Linji said, “Who would have known that my treasury of the true Dharma eye would be extinguished beside this blind donkey?” Sansheng immediately bowed. Only because he was a true heir of Linji did he dare respond in this way. In the end, Xuedou versified only the golden fish leaping through the net, revealing the place where adepts meet one another.

VERSE: The golden fish that has passed through the net—

Cease asking whether it remains wet.

It shakes heaven and moves earth,

Lashing its fins and sweeping its tail.

A thousand-foot whale spouts, and vast waves fly;

At one peal of thunder, a fierce wind arises.

A fierce wind arises—

In heaven and among humankind, how many understand?

TRANSLATION: The golden fish breaks through the net;

Cease saying that it is wet.

It shakes heaven and moves earth,

Lashing its fins and fanning its tail.

A thousand-foot whale spouts mighty waves;

At one peal of thunder, a fierce wind arises.

A fierce wind arises—

In heaven and among humankind, how many know?

EXPLANATION OF THE VERSE: Regarding the two lines, “The golden fish breaks through the net; cease saying that it is wet,” my late teacher Wuzu said, “The entire case is fully versified in this one phrase.” Since it is a golden fish that has leapt through the net, how could it remain confined within the water? It must abide where the waters stretch boundlessly and waves rise to flood the heavens. Tell me, throughout the twelve hours of the day, what does it use for food?

Beneath the three rafters and before the seven-foot meditation platform, try to judge correctly! Xuedou said that this matter is handled and played with according to one’s capacity. When such a golden fish “lashes its fins and fans its tail,” it “shakes heaven and moves earth.” The line “A thousand-foot whale spouts mighty waves” versifies Sansheng’s statement, “You are the spiritual teacher of fifteen hundred people, yet you do not even understand the crucial phrase”; it is like a whale spouting mighty waves.

The line “At one peal of thunder, a fierce wind arises” versifies Xuefeng’s statement, “This old monk has many duties as abbot”; it is like a peal of thunder from which a fierce wind arises. In essence, the verse praises both men as adepts. As for the two lines, “A fierce wind arises—in heaven and among humankind, how many know?” tell me, where do these two lines of verse fall?

The character xian means wind. When the fierce wind arises, how many in heaven and among humankind are able to know it?

CASE 50: YUNMEN’S SAMADHI IN EVERY PARTICLE OF DUST

POINTER: Passing beyond stages and transcending expedient means, every potential accords with every potential, and every phrase enters every phrase. Unless one has entered the gate of great liberation and attained the function of great liberation, how could one wield authority over the Buddhas and Patriarchs and serve as the mirror of the essential tradition? Tell me, when one cuts off everything at the immediate occasion, moving freely in every direction, whether with or against the flow, how can one utter a phrase that reveals one’s true self? Let us bring it forth and see.

PUBLIC CASE: A monk asked Yunmen, “What is the samadhi in every particle of dust?” Yunmen replied, “Rice in the bowl, water in the bucket.”

EXPLANATION: Can you judge this correctly? If you can judge it correctly, Yunmen’s nostrils are in your hands. If you cannot judge it correctly, your nostrils are in Yunmen’s hands. Yunmen had phrases that cut through nails and severed iron; within a single phrase, all three phrases were complete.

When asked about this, some immediately say, “The rice is in the bowl, each grain perfectly round; the water is in the bucket, every drop entirely wet.” If you understand it in this way, you do not see the exact place where Yunmen earnestly helped others.

VERSE: Rice in the bowl, water in the bucket—

The eloquent teacher finds it hard to open his mouth.

The Northern Dipper and the Southern Star—their positions do not differ;

White waves engulf the heavens, rising from level ground.

Think, do not think;

Cease, do not cease;

Each and every one is a wealthy elder’s son without breeches.

TRANSLATION: Rice in the bowl, water in the bucket;

The sharp-tongued teacher finds it hard to open his mouth.

The northern stars and southern stars—how do their positions differ?

Waves engulf the heavens, rising from level ground.

Think, do not think

Stopping, yet not stopping.

Each and every son of a wealthy elder is without trousers.

EXPLANATION OF THE VERSE: Earlier, Xuedou versified Yunmen’s response to the saying “One against one,” saying: “One against one—the utmost height; a holeless iron hammer, further secured with a wedge.” Later, he versified Mazu’s transcendence of the four propositions and extinction of the hundred negations, saying: “Zang’s head is white, Hai’s head is black; clear-eyed Chan monks cannot comprehend it.” If you penetrate this case, you will see those verses.

Xuedou begins by saying, “Rice in the bowl, water in the bucket.” Within the words there is an echo; within the phrase the essential function is presented. Next comes, “The sharp-tongued teacher finds it difficult to open his mouth,” followed by a footnote for you. If you seek some abstruse or wondrous principle of the Way in this, the more you compare and calculate, the harder it becomes to open your mouth.

Arriving here, Xuedou immediately seizes and holds him fast right from the outset. Yet, fearing that someone in the assembly with clear eyes might see through it, in the latter part he lets it pass one move further, then bends down to reveal and set forth the verse for beginners, enabling them to see.

The Northern Dipper remains as before in the north, and the Southern Star remains as before in the south; therefore he says, “The Northern Star and Southern Star—their positions have not changed.” As for the line, “Waves surge and engulf heaven and earth, rising upon level ground”—if waves suddenly arise upon level ground, what should be done? If you view it in terms of phenomena, it is easy; but if you search for it beneath the root of intention, you cannot grasp it. It is exactly like an iron stake: you cannot shake it, and you cannot pull it out. If you deliberate and try to understand it, you will not understand; you wish to stop, yet cannot stop.

Confusedly displaying the bag of ignorance—this is precisely: “Each and every son of a wealthy elder is without trousers.” Hanshan’s poem says:

“The six extremities ever increase suffering;
The nine dimensions are discussed in vain.
With talent, one is cast among dense weeds;
Without influence, one shuts the brushwood gate.
Though the sun has risen, the mountains remain dark;
Though the smoke has cleared, the valley is still dim.
Within there are the sons of wealthy elders—
Each and every one of them is without trousers.”