佛果圜悟禪師碧巖錄

CASE 61: FENGXUE—WHEN THE NATION FLOURISHES

INTRODUCTION: Raising the Dharma banner and establishing the essential principle are the proper duties of a master of the lineage. To distinguish dragons from snakes and clearly discern black from white, one must be an accomplished adept. Setting aside the matter of debating life and death upon the edge of a sharp sword and discerning the pivotal opportunity and doubt at the tip of a staff, tell me: when one stands alone within the whole universe, how can a single phrase be discussed? Let us see the case.

CASE: Fengxue instructed: “If a single speck of dust is established, the nation flourishes; if a single speck of dust is not established, the nation perishes.” Xuedou raised his staff and said, “Is there any Chan monk who will live and die together with me?”

COMMENTARY: Fengxue addressed the assembly, saying: “If a single speck of dust is established, the nation flourishes; if a single speck of dust is not established, the nation perishes.” Tell me, is it right to establish a single speck of dust, or is it right not to establish a single speck of dust? Here, the great function must manifest immediately. Therefore it is said: Even if you can advance before the words are spoken, you are still stuck to the shell and have forgotten the adhesive; even if you thoroughly comprehend what lies beneath the words, you still cannot avoid colliding with deluded views.

Fengxue was a venerable master of the Linji school who directly employed the methods of the fundamental matter. If a single speck of dust is established, the nation flourishes, yet the rustic old man is sorrowful. The meaning is that establishing a nation and bringing peace to the realm require resourceful ministers and valiant generals; only then does the qilin appear and the phoenix fly back—auspicious signs of great peace.

How could the inhabitants of that three-house village know of such a matter? If a single speck of dust is not established, the nation perishes; the wind whistles swiftly—why does the rustic old man sing? Simply because the nation has perished.

In the Caodong school, this is called the place of transformation: no Buddha, no sentient beings, no right, no wrong, no good, no bad; sound, reverberation, trace, and track are all cut off. Therefore it is said: “Though gold dust is precious, when it falls into the eye, it becomes an affliction.” It is also said: “Gold dust in the eye is an affliction; a jewel upon the Dharma is dust. Even one’s own spiritual acuity is not esteemed—what sort of people, then, are the Buddhas and patriarchs?” Even supernatural powers and wondrous functions, penetrating everywhere in all directions, are not regarded as extraordinary.

Upon arriving here, “Pull the quilt over your head and let all matters cease; at this moment, this mountain monk understands absolutely nothing.” If you still speak of mind or nature, of the profound or the wondrous, none of it can be used. Why? Because within that house there is naturally a realm of immortals.

Nanquan instructed the assembly: “The seven hundred eminent monks at Huangmei were all people who understood the Buddha-Dharma, yet they did not receive the Patriarch’s robe and bowl. Only the layman surnamed Lu did not understand the Buddha-Dharma, and therefore he received the Patriarch’s robe and bowl.” It is also said: “The Buddhas of the three times do not know what is; house cats and white oxen, on the other hand, know what is.” Whether the rustic old man is sorrowful or sings, tell me, how should this be understood?

What kind of eye does the rustic old man possess that he acts like this? You should know that before the rustic old man’s gate there is a distinct ordinance of its own. After Xuedou had raised both sides together, he again lifted his staff and said, “Is there any Chan monk who will live and die together with me?” If at that moment someone had come forth and uttered a phrase that intermingled host and guest, he would have spared old Xuedou from pointing to his own breast at the end.

VERSE: The rustic old man henceforth no longer raises his brows;

For now he hopes to establish a mighty foundation for the nation.

Where now are the resourceful ministers and valiant generals?

For ten thousand miles, only he himself knows the refreshing breeze.

TRANSLATION: The foolish old man henceforth raises not his brow;

He only hopes to found the nation’s strength somehow.

Resourceful ministers and valiant generals—where are they now?

For ten thousand miles, the gentle breeze he alone knows now.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: Previously, both sides were raised together; here, however, one side is grasped and the other released, the long supplemented by the short, the heavy abandoned in favor of the light. Therefore it is said: “The foolish old man henceforth raises not his brow; he only hopes to found the nation’s strength somehow; resourceful ministers and valiant generals—where are they now?” Xuedou raised his staff and said, “Is there any Chan monk who will live and die together with me?” It is as though he were asking, “Are there any resourceful ministers and valiant generals?” With a single mouth, he had already swallowed everyone.

Hence it is said: “The land is broad and the people few; encounters are exceedingly rare.” Is there anyone who knows him? Come forth, and one pit will bury you all. “For ten thousand miles, the gentle breeze he alone knows now”—this is precisely where Xuedou points to his own breast.

CASE 62: YUNMEN—WITHIN THERE IS A JEWEL

INTRODUCTION: Employing wisdom acquired without a teacher, one brings forth wondrous, uncontrived functioning; with unconditional compassion, one becomes a good friend who comes uninvited. Within a single phrase there is death and there is life; within a single pivotal opportunity there is release and there is capture. Tell me, who has ever arrived in this way? Let us see the case.

CASE: Yunmen instructed the assembly: “Within heaven and earth, amid the cosmos, there is a precious jewel concealed within the mountain of form. Take a lantern into the Buddha Hall, and bring the triple gate atop the lantern.”

EXPLANATION: Yunmen said, “Within heaven and earth, amid the universe, there is a precious jewel concealed in the mountain of form.” Tell me, was Yunmen’s intent in the fishing rod, or was his intent in the lantern? These are several lines from Dharma Master Sengzhao’s Treatise on the Treasure Storehouse, which Yunmen quoted to instruct the assembly. During the Later Qin dynasty, while Master Zhao was at Xiaoyao Garden composing treatises and copying the Vimalakirti Sutra, he came to understand that Laozi and Zhuangzi had not yet reached the ultimate.

Master Zhao bowed to Kumarajiva as his teacher and later went to consult Bodhisattva Bhadrapala at Waguang Monastery, who had received transmission of the mind seal from the twenty-seventh Indian Patriarch. Master Zhao penetrated the profound and hidden place.

One day, when Master Zhao met with disaster and was about to be executed, he requested a postponement of seven days so that he might complete the Treatise on the Treasure Storehouse. Yunmen quoted four lines from the treatise to instruct the assembly. Their essential meaning concerns how to obtain the priceless precious jewel concealed within the skandhas and dhatus. The words of the treatise accord with the manner of discourse in the Chan school.

Jingqing asked Caoshan, “What is it like when the principle of pure emptiness is ultimately without intimacy?”

Caoshan replied, “The principle is indeed so, but what about phenomena?”

Qing said, “Thus with principle, thus with phenomena.”

Caoshan said, “You may deceive Caoshan alone, but what can you do before the eyes of the sages?”

Qing said, “If there were no eyes of the sages, how could one know that it is not so?”

Caoshan said, “In public, not even a needle’s point is admitted; in private, even carts and horses may pass.”

Therefore it is said: “Within heaven and earth, amid the universe, there is a precious jewel concealed in the mountain of form.” The essential meaning is that every person is fully endowed and each one is perfectly complete. In quoting this to instruct the assembly, Yunmen had already presented it in complete manifestation; he could not be like a lecturing monk who would offer you further commentary. Yet the Master still opened his compassionate heart and supplied you with footnotes, saying, “Take the lantern into the Buddha hall; bring the Three Gates atop the lantern.” Tell me, when Yunmen spoke in this way, where was his intent?

An ancient said, “The true nature of ignorance is precisely Buddha-nature; this empty, illusory body is precisely the Dharma-body.” It is also said, “It is precisely in the ordinary mind that the Buddha-mind is seen.” The mountain of form is the four great elements and the five skandhas. Within it is a precious jewel concealed in the mountain of form; therefore it is said:

It is also said:

“Buddha-nature is clearly and manifestly revealed,
Yet those who abide in the marks of sentient existence find it hard to see.
If one awakens to the selflessness of sentient beings,
How could my face differ from the Buddha’s face?
The mind is the mind from the beginning;
The face is the face of childhood.
The stone of an aeon may shift and change,
But that does not alter.”

Some people merely recognize luminous spiritual clarity as the precious jewel, but then they do not attain its function, nor do they attain its subtle wonder. Therefore they cannot set it in motion, nor can they roll it over. An ancient said, “When exhausted, change; when changed, penetrate.” The line, “Take the lantern into the Buddha hall,” can still be measured and assessed by ordinary understanding. But can the line, “Bring the Three Gates atop the lantern,” also be measured and assessed? In a single moment Yunmen shattered your discriminating consciousness and conceptual thought, along with gain and loss, right and wrong.

Xuedou said, “I admire Shaoyang’s newly established pivotal device; throughout his life, for the sake of others, he pulled out nails and wrenched out pegs.” He also said, “How many sit upon the wooden bench? The keen blade cuts them away, causing people to admire.” When Yunmen said, “Take the lantern into the Buddha hall,” this one statement had already cut everything off. Then he said, “Bring the Three Gates atop the lantern.” If this matter is discussed, it is like sparks flashing from struck stone, like a bolt of lightning.

Yunmen said, “If you are equal to it, seek a way in. Buddhas numerous as dust motes are beneath your heels, and the sacred teachings of the three baskets are upon the tip of your tongue; yet none of this compares with awakening. Sons of the venerable monks! Do not entertain deluded thoughts. Heaven is heaven, earth is earth, mountains are mountains, waters are waters, monks are monks, and laypeople are laypeople.”

The Master remained silent for a long while, then continued, “Bring the mountain desk before you and let me see it.”

A monk came forward and asked, “What is it like when a student sees mountains as mountains and waters as waters?”

Yunmen said, “Why do the Three Gates pass through here? I fear you are dead.”

The Master then drew a single line with his hand and said, “If you understand, it is the supreme flavor of ghee; if you do not understand, it becomes poison.” Therefore it is said:

“Utterly clear—when clear, there is nothing to be clarified;
Profoundly mysterious—the mysterious place must be rejected.”

Xuedou commented: “‘Within heaven and earth, amid the universe, there is a precious jewel concealed in the mountain of form.’ Hang it upon the wall. Bodhidharma did not dare look directly at it for nine years. Now, if a Chan monk wishes to see it, strike him directly on the spine.” Observe how the Master, as a true teacher of the school, never bound people with a fixed Dharma. Xuansha said, “Surrounded, it refuses to stand still; called, it does not turn its head. Even so, it is still the numinous tortoise dragging its tail.” Xuedou offered this verse:

VERSE: Look! Look!

Upon the ancient bank, who holds the fishing rod?

Clouds drifting and drifting,

Waters vast and boundless—

The bright moon and reed blossoms: see for yourself.

TRANSLATION: Look! Look!

Upon the ancient bank, who holds the fishing rod?

Clouds dim and obscure,

Waters vast and boundless—

The bright moon and reed blossoms: see for yourself.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: If you understand Yunmen’s words, you will immediately see where Xuedou acted for the sake of others. Taking the last two lines of Yunmen’s instruction to the assembly, the Master supplied you with a footnote: “Look! Look!” You may raise your eyebrows and glare, imagining that you understand, but it still has nothing to do with the matter.

An ancient said:

If you merely remain at the point of raising your eyebrows and glaring, sitting as though dead, how could you escape the sense faculties and their objects? Xuedou said, “Look! Look!” Yunmen is like someone holding a fishing rod upon the ancient bank. The clouds are dim and obscure; the waters are vast and boundless. The bright moon shines upon the reed blossoms, and the reed blossoms reflect the bright moon. At this very moment, what realm is this? If you can see it directly here, then beginning and end are simply like a single statement.

CASE 63: NANQUAN CUTS THE CAT

INTRODUCTION: Where the path of thought cannot reach, one must skillfully bring it forth; where words cannot keep pace, one must swiftly open one’s eyes. If you are like a flash of lightning or a shooting star, you can immediately overturn lakes and topple mountains. Is there anyone in the assembly who can discern this? Let us examine the case.

PUBLIC CASE: One day at Nanquan’s monastery, the monks of the eastern and western halls were disputing over a cat. When Nanquan saw this, he immediately held it up and said, “If you can speak, I will not cut it.” The assembly could not speak. Nanquan cut the cat into two pieces.

EXPLANATION: With every movement and stillness, every going forth and coming in of a master of the school, tell me, what is the essential meaning? The story of cutting the cat in two has been noisily discussed everywhere throughout the monasteries. Some say: The point lies where it was raised.

Others say: It lies in the cutting. None of this has anything to do with it. Even if Nanquan had not raised it, people everywhere would still have fabricated principles about it.

Do they not know that the ancients possessed an eye that could settle heaven and earth and a sword that could settle heaven and earth? Tell me, ultimately, who cut the cat in two? Just when Nanquan raised it and said, “If you can speak, I will not cut it,” suppose someone had suddenly been able to speak—would Nanquan have cut it or not?

Thus it is said: When the true command is put into effect, it cuts off the ten directions. Step beyond and look outside the heavens—who is the person therein? In truth, at that time there was fundamentally no cutting; nor does this story lie in either cutting or not cutting.

This matter must truly be understood clearly in this way; it cannot be sought amid the dust of emotions and intellectual opinions. If you seek it amid the dust of emotions and intellectual opinions, you betray Nanquan. Simply look upon the point of the keen sword: existence will do, nonexistence will do, and neither existence nor nonexistence will also do.

Thus an ancient said: “When exhausted, change; through change, there is passage.” People today do not understand change and passage; they merely run after words and phrases. When Nanquan raised it in this way, could he have been demanding that people offer some particular words? He only wanted each person to advance for himself, employ it for himself, and know it for himself.

If you do not understand in this way, you will suddenly find that your searching cannot reach it. Xuedou directly versified it:

VERSE: The monks of both halls were all ordinary Zen fellows;

They stirred up smoke and dust, yet could do nothing.

Fortunately, Nanquan was able to issue the command:

With one stroke he cut it in two, regardless of partiality.

TRANSLATION: Both halls were filled with mediocre Zen guests;

Though they stirred up smoke and dust, they remained bewildered.

Fortunately, Nanquan knew how to carry out the command;

One stroke, two pieces—let heaven judge.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: In the line “Both halls were filled with mediocre Zen guests,” Xuedou does not perish beneath the words, nor does he concern himself with “the donkey in front and the horse behind.” Where there is something to expose, he immediately says, “Though they stirred up smoke and dust, they remained bewildered.” Xuedou and Nanquan walk hand in hand; with a single line, the matter is finished. The head monks of the two halls had nowhere to bring it to an end; when the moment came, they merely stirred up smoke and dust and could do nothing.

Fortunately, Nanquan settled this public case for them and swept everything clean away; yet before them they did not reach the village, and behind them they did not arrive at the inn. Thus it is said: “Fortunately, Nanquan knew how to carry out the command; one stroke, two pieces—let heaven judge.” On the spot, he struck once and made two pieces, paying no heed to whether there was any partiality. Tell me, by what command did Nanquan act?

CASE 64: ZHAOZHOU PUTS HIS STRAW SANDALS ON HIS HEAD

PUBLIC CASE: Nanquan recounted this story and questioned Zhaozhou about it. Zhaozhou immediately took off his straw sandals, placed them on his head, and walked out. Nanquan said, “Had you been present then, you would have saved the cat.”

EXPLANATION: Zhaozhou was Nanquan’s true Dharma heir: upon hearing the beginning, he understood the end; as soon as a matter was raised, he knew where it came down. That evening, Nanquan recounted what had happened in the morning and questioned Zhaozhou about it. Zhaozhou was an old adept; he immediately took off his straw sandals, placed them on his head, and walked out.

Nanquan said, “Had you been present then, you would have saved the cat.” Tell me, was it truly so, or was it not truly so? Nanquan said, “If you can speak, I will not cut it”—like sparks struck from stone, like a flash of lightning. Zhaozhou immediately took off his straw sandals, placed them on his head, and walked out.

The master investigated the living phrase, not the dead phrase: new every day, new every hour. Even a thousand sages could not alter it by so much as a single hair. Only when one can employ the treasure of one’s own house can one see the master’s complete activity and great function.

The master said, “I am the Dharma King; with regard to the Dharma, I am free and at ease.” Many people misunderstand and say that Zhaozhou expediently used his straw sandals as the cat. Others say that when Nanquan said, “If you can speak, I will not cut it,” Zhaozhou put the straw sandals on his head and walked out, meaning, “You yourself cut the cat; it has nothing to do with me.” This still has nothing to do with it; it is merely playing with the spirit-consciousness.

Do they not know that the meaning of the ancients was like heaven covering all and earth bearing all? Master and disciple accorded with one another; their pivotal activity matched. When one raised the head, the other immediately understood the tail.

Students today do not know where the ancients turned; they run in vain along the road of conceptual calculation. If you wish to see it, simply arrive at the turning point of Nanquan and Zhaozhou, and you will see at once.

VERSE: The public case was complete, yet he questioned Zhaozhou;

Within the city of Chang’an, he roamed freely at leisure.

With straw sandals on his head, no one understood;

Only upon returning to his native mountain did he rest.

TRANSLATION: The public case was settled, yet he questioned Zhaozhou;

Through the city of Chang’an, he freely wandered at leisure.

No one understood the straw sandals worn upon his head;

Only upon reaching his native mountain did he finally rest.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: “The public case was settled, yet he questioned Zhaozhou.” Librarian Qing said: It is like a man passing judgment—eight blows are eight blows, thirteen are thirteen; the case has already been decided. Yet Nanquan brought it out again and questioned Zhaozhou. Zhaozhou was a son of that house.

He understood Nanquan’s essential meaning and was a thoroughly penetrating man; pressed or challenged, he immediately turned, fully possessing the head and eye of a true adept. The moment he heard it mentioned, he rose and walked out. Xuedou said, “Through the city of Chang’an, he freely wandered at leisure”—no small portion of the tail is showing.

An ancient said, “Though Chang’an is delightful, one should not remain there long.” It is also said, “Chang’an is very noisy; my country is peaceful.” One must know the circumstances and discern good from bad. “No one understood the straw sandals worn upon his head.” At the point of putting the straw sandals on his head, there is not the slightest multitude of affairs. Thus it is said, “I alone can know it; I alone can realize it.” Only then can one see where Nanquan, Zhaozhou, and Xuedou attained and functioned alike.

Tell me, how should this be understood now? “Only upon reaching his native mountain did he finally rest.” Where is his native mountain? If Xuedou had not understood, he certainly would not have spoken in this way.

Since he did understand, tell me, where is the native mountain? He immediately struck.

CASE 65: THE HERETIC—A FINE HORSE SEES THE SHADOW OF THE WHIP

INTRODUCTORY WORDS: Without form, it manifests throughout the ten directions, yet the directions are vast; without mind, it responds and functions throughout the ocean of lands, yet is never troubled. Raise one and clarify three; observe the pivotal circumstances and weigh them distinctly. Even if blows of the staff fell like rain and shouts arose like thunder, they would still not befit the provisions of one who has gone beyond. Tell me, what is the matter of the person who has gone beyond? Let us bring it up and see.

PUBLIC CASE: A heretic asked the Buddha, “I do not ask about speech; I do not ask about no speech.” The Blessed One remained silent for a while. The heretic praised him, saying, “In your great loving-kindness and great compassion, the Blessed One has cleared away the clouds and mist for me and enabled me to enter.” After the heretic had departed, Ananda asked the Buddha, “What did the heretic realize that he said he had gained entry?” The Buddha said, “Like a fine horse in the world: upon seeing the shadow of the whip, it immediately runs.”

EXPLANATION: If this matter were found in words and phrases, would the teachings of the Three Vehicles and the twelve divisions of scripture not contain words and phrases? Or perhaps saying that it is not spoken would be correct. Then what did the Patriarch come from the West to do?

Up to this point there have been quite a number of koans; ultimately, how can one perceive where they come down? This one koan has been understood in many different ways. Some say it means keeping silent; some say sitting quietly; some say remaining still and giving no reply.

Laughable! None of these has anything to do with it. When will they ever find their way to it by groping about?

This matter assuredly is not in words and phrases, yet neither is it apart from words and phrases. The moment deliberation arises, one is already a thousand or ten thousand miles away. Look at that non-Buddhist: only after awakening did he know that it was neither here nor there, neither affirmation nor negation.

Tell me, what is it? Master Tianyi Huai versified:

“Vimalakirti neither held his tongue nor kept silent;
To deliberate over sitting quietly is already an error.
Within the armor, the cold light of the hair-blown sword shines;
Non-Buddhists and heavenly demons alike are helpless.”

Master Chang of Baizhang went to consult Fayan, and Fayan instructed him to contemplate this saying. One day Fayan asked, “What episode are you contemplating?” Chang replied, “The non-Buddhist questioning the Buddha.” Fayan said, “Try presenting it.” Just as Chang was about to open his mouth, Fayan said, “Stop! Stop! Are you trying to understand it in terms of silence?” At these words Chang suddenly attained great awakening. Later the Master instructed the assembly:

Cuiyan, pointing to his chest, raised the matter: “Throughout the six directions and the nine realms of existence, blue, yellow, red, and white are each intermingled. The non-Buddhist understood the scriptures and discussed the Four Vedas, proclaiming himself a man of omniscience. Everywhere he sought people with whom to debate.

He posed this question intending to cut off Shakyamuni’s tongue. The World-Honored One did not expend even the slightest effort, yet the non-Buddhist immediately awakened and praised him, saying, ‘The World-Honored One, in his great loving-kindness and great compassion, has parted the clouds of delusion for me and enabled me to enter.’ Tell me, what constitutes this great loving-kindness and great compassion? The World-Honored One, with a single eye, penetrated the three times; the non-Buddhist, with both pupils, saw through five thousand.”

Zhenru of Guishan raised the matter: “The non-Buddhist cherished a precious jewel in his bosom, and the World-Honored One raised it aloft for him. The myriad phenomena were revealed, and the ten thousand forms became distinct. Ultimately, what did the non-Buddhist awaken to? It was like driving a dog against a wall: when pressed to the utmost with no avenue of escape, it has only to turn its head and at once becomes lively and free.”

If all calculations of right and wrong are relinquished at once, feelings purified and views eliminated, everything naturally becomes thoroughly clear. After the non-Buddhist had departed, Ananda asked the Buddha, “What did the non-Buddhist realize that he said he had found an entrance?” The Buddha said, “Like a fine horse in the world: upon seeing the shadow of the whip, it immediately runs.” Later, people in various places said, “Again the wind has toyed with the melody and changed its tune.” They also said, “A dragon’s head but a snake’s tail.” Where is the shadow of the World-Honored One’s whip?

Where is the seeing of the whip’s shadow? Xuedou said, “Failing to distinguish the deviant from the true—the fault lies with the shadow of the whip.” Zhenru said, “Ananda once more struck the golden bell, and the fourfold assembly heard it together.” Even so, it closely resembles two dragons contending for a pearl, further magnifying the majestic bearing of the wise. Xuedou brought it out in verse:

VERSE: The wheel of potential had never turned;

Once it turns, both ends run away.

A bright mirror suddenly comes upon its stand;

On the spot it distinguishes the beautiful from the ugly.

The beautiful and ugly distinguished—the clouds of delusion open;

From where could dust arise at the gate of compassion?

Because the fine horse sees the shadow of the whip,

The wind-chaser, a thousand miles away, can be called back.

Called back—clearly he snaps his fingers three times.

TRANSLATION: The wheel of potential had never turned;

Once it turns, both ends run away.

A bright mirror suddenly comes upon its stand;

On the spot it distinguishes the beautiful from the ugly.

The beautiful and ugly distinguished—the clouds of delusion open;

From where could dust arise at the gate of compassion?

Because the fine horse sees the shadow of the whip,

The wind-chaser, a thousand miles away, can be called back.

Called back—he snaps his fingers three times.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: The two lines, “The wheel of potential had never turned; once it turns, both ends run away,” refer to this: “potential” is the numinous potential of the thousand sages, while the “wheel” is the lifeline of all people from ancient times to the present. An ancient said:

“The numinous potential of the thousand sages is not easily approached;
A dragon begets a dragon child—do not follow its tracks.
When Zhaozhou seized it, it immediately became jade;
The ruler of Qin and Xiangru both lost their lives.”

The non-Buddhist could stand firm and act as master, without ever stirring. Why? He said, “I do not ask about speech, nor do I ask about no speech.” Is this not the place of complete potential?

The World-Honored One knew how to observe the wind and set the sail, prescribing medicine according to the illness. Therefore, he remained silent for a while, raising the complete potential in its entirety. The non-Buddhist understood it completely.

The wheel of potential then rolled freely, turning neither toward existence nor toward nonexistence, falling into neither gain nor loss, clinging to neither ordinary beings nor sages. Both sides were cut off all at once. As soon as the World-Honored One fell silent, the non-Buddhist bowed.

Most people today fall into emptiness; if not, they fall into existence. They concern themselves only with running toward the two extremes of existence and nonexistence.

Xuedou said, “A bright mirror suddenly comes upon its stand; on the spot it distinguishes the beautiful from the ugly.” There is no need to stir anything here; only the silence is required. It is like a bright mirror coming upon its stand: none of the ten thousand forms can conceal its shape and substance. The non-Buddhist said, “The World-Honored One, in his great loving-kindness and great compassion, has parted the clouds of delusion for me and enabled me to enter.” Tell me, where is the place into which the non-Buddhist entered?

Here each person must personally investigate, personally inquire, personally awaken, and personally understand. In every circumstance—walking, standing, sitting, and lying down—without regard to high or low, it manifests completely all at once, without shifting by even a hair’s breadth. The moment one begins to calculate and posit even a thread of principle, it fatally blocks one, and one has no share in entering.

The latter part of the verse concerns, “The World-Honored One, in his great loving-kindness and great compassion, has parted the clouds of delusion for me and enabled me to enter”:

“On the spot it distinguishes the beautiful from the ugly.
The beautiful and ugly distinguished—the clouds of delusion open;
From where could dust arise at the gate of compassion?”

The whole earth is the gate of the World-Honored One’s great loving-kindness and great compassion. If you penetrate it, there is no need even for the imprint of a hand; this itself is the gate flung wide open. Have you not seen how, for twenty-one days, the World-Honored One contemplated the matter thus: “I should not teach the Dharma, but should swiftly enter nirvana”?

“Because the fine horse sees the shadow of the whip,
The wind-chaser, a thousand miles away, can be called back.”

A fine wind-chasing horse, upon seeing the shadow of the whip, has already run a thousand miles; call it back, and it immediately returns. Xuedou’s intention was to praise the non-Buddhist, saying, “Only one who is outstanding can turn at the slightest movement and return at a single call. If he can be called back, then snap the fingers three times.” Tell me, is this exposing the matter, or is it throwing sand?

CASE 66: YANTOU TAKES HUANG CHAO’S SWORD

POINTER: Facing the situation directly, he raises aloft the mechanism that traps a tiger. With the principal charge and collateral evidence, he displays the strategy for capturing a bandit. Joining in the light and joining in the dark, twice releasing and twice gathering in—one who can skillfully toy with a dead snake is indeed an adept.

KOAN: Yantou asked a monk, “Where have you come from?” The monk replied, “From the Western Capital.” Yantou asked, “After the rebel Huang Chao had passed through, were you able to recover his sword?” The monk replied, “I recovered it.” Yantou stretched out his neck and said, “Ha!” The monk said, “Your head has fallen, Master.” Yantou laughed aloud, “Ha, ha!”

Later this monk went to Xuefeng. Xuefeng asked, “Where have you come from?” The monk replied, “From Yantou.” Xuefeng asked, “What words and phrases did he have?” The monk recounted the preceding incident. Xuefeng struck him thirty blows and drove him out.

EXPLANATION: Anyone who shoulders a traveling bag, carries an alms bowl, parts the grass, and observes the wind must possess the eye of a pilgrim. This monk’s eyes were like shooting stars, yet after Yantou had examined and exposed him, he was strung through all over again. At that moment, had he been such a person, whether dead or alive, he would have acted as soon as it was brought up.

But this muddled monk instead said, “It was recovered.” If you go on pilgrimage like this, old King Yama will demand repayment for your food. This fellow wore out who knows how many pairs of straw sandals before finally reaching Xuefeng. At that time, if he had possessed even a little clear vision, he would have known at a glance—would that not have been delightful?

There is a knotty point in this encounter. Although this matter admits neither gain nor loss, its gain and loss are exceedingly great. Although it permits no discrimination, here one must still possess the eye that can discriminate.

Consider how Longya, while still on pilgrimage, framed a question and asked Deshan, “If I were to rely on the Moye sword and attempt to take your head, Master, what then?” Deshan stretched out his neck and said, “Heh!” Longya said, “Your head has fallen.” Deshan immediately returned to the abbot’s quarters. Later, Longya related this to Dongshan. Dongshan asked, “What did Deshan say at that time?” Longya replied, “The Master said nothing.” Dongshan said, “Set aside the fact that he said nothing; show me Deshan’s fallen head.” At these words Longya attained great awakening.

He lit incense, faced afar toward Deshan, bowed, and repented. A monk reported this to Deshan. Deshan said, “Old Dongshan does not know good from bad.

This fellow has been dead for so long—what use is there in reviving him?” This case is of the same kind as Longya’s. Deshan’s return to the abbot’s quarters was surely wondrous in the dark. Yantou laughed loudly; there was poison in his laughter.

If anyone can discern it, that person may travel freely throughout the world. If this monk had discerned it then, he would have surpassed the thousand sages of antiquity and escaped scrutiny; instead, at Yantou’s gate he committed a whole series of errors. See how old Xuefeng, being his fellow practitioner, knew where he had fallen.

Yet he did not explain it for him; he merely struck him thirty blows and drove him from the monastery, so that there could be neither anything before nor anything after. This is how an adept seizes a Chan pilgrim by the nostrils. His means of helping others do not work on their behalf in this way or that, but cause them to awaken for themselves.

When a true master of the fundamental matter guides people, sometimes he covers everything tightly and does not let them show their heads; sometimes he releases them and leaves them half-dead—yet they must still have a place from which to emerge. Altogether, Yantou and Xuefeng were instead exposed by this muddled monk. Yantou asked, “After the rebel Huang Chao had passed, did you recover the sword?” Tell me, what words should have been given here to avoid being laughed at by Yantou and also avoid being beaten and driven out by Xuefeng?

Amid this confusion, unless one has personally realized and personally awakened, then even with a clever mouth and a sharp tongue, ultimately one still cannot penetrate and transcend birth and death. This mountain monk ordinarily teaches people to observe the turning point of this mechanism.

If you deliberate over it, you stray ever farther away. Have you not seen how Touzi asked the monk Yamping, “After the rebel Huang Chao had passed, did you recover the sword?” The monk pointed to the ground with his hand. Touzi said, “For thirty years I have amused myself riding horses, but today I have been kicked by a donkey.” See how this monk was indeed an adept. He neither said it had been recovered nor said it had not been recovered. Compared with the monk from the Western Capital, they were as far apart as heaven and earth. Zhenru commented, “Of those ancients, one made the head and the other made the tail.” Xuedou brought it out in verse:

VERSE: After Huang Chao had passed, was the sword recovered?

The great laugh must still be known by an adept.

Thirty mountain-vine blows were still a light pardon;

To gain an advantage is to lose the advantage.

TRANSLATION: When the rebel Huang Chao was gone, was the sword recovered?

The great laugh could be known only by an adept.

Thirty blows were still a light pardon;

To gain an advantage is to lose the advantage.

EXPLANATION OF THE VERSE: In the two lines, “When the rebel Huang Chao was gone, was the sword recovered? The great laugh could be known only by an adept,” Xuedou versifies this monk and Yantou’s great laugh. People throughout the world seek this tiny point but cannot find it. Tell me, what was the Master laughing at? Only an adept can know. Within this laughter are provisional and real, illumination and function, death and life. The line, “Thirty blows were still a light pardon,” versifies how this monk later came face-to-face with Xuefeng yet remained as reckless as before. Xuefeng carried out the command, struck him thirty blows, and drove him out. Tell me, why was it so? Do you wish to understand this saying completely? “To gain an advantage is to lose the advantage.”

CASE 67: MAHASATTVA FU FINISHES LECTURING ON THE SUTRA

CASE: Emperor Wu of Liang invited Mahasattva Fu to lecture on the Diamond Sutra. The Mahasattva ascended the seat, sat down, struck the lectern once, and stepped down from the seat. Emperor Wu was astonished. Zhigong asked, “Does Your Majesty understand?” Emperor Wu said, “I do not understand.” Zhigong said, “The Mahasattva has finished lecturing on the sutra.”

EXPLANATION: Emperor Wu, the founding sovereign of Liang, bore the surname Xiao, the personal name Yan, and the style name Shuda. He rendered meritorious service and eventually succeeded to the throne of the Qi dynasty. After ascending the throne, he personally composed commentaries on the Five Classics and expounded their meaning. He revered Laozi with utmost devotion and was by nature profoundly filial. One day, considering a world-transcending Dharma by which to repay his parents’ kindness, he abandoned Daoism and followed Buddhism. He received the bodhisattva precepts from Dharma Master Lou Yue, donned the kasaya, and lectured on the Radiant Prajnaparamita Sutra to repay his parents’ kindness.

At that time, Mahasattva Zhigong manifested wonders that bewildered the people and was confined in prison. Yet Zhigong divided his body and traveled about teaching throughout the cities and towns. One day, the emperor recognized this, was moved to awakening, and thereafter revered him greatly.

Zhigong’s hidden protective practices and manifest activities were immeasurable. In Wuzhou there was a Mahasattva dwelling on Mount Yunhuang. With his own hands he planted two trees called the Twin Trees, and styled himself the Future Mahasattva Shanhui.

One day he wrote a letter and sent a disciple to present it to the emperor. At the time, the court officials judged that he lacked the proper decorum between sovereign and subject, so they refused to receive it. Mahasattva Fu then went into the city of Jinling intending to sell fish.

Emperor Wu invited Zhigong to lecture on the Diamond Sutra. Zhigong reported, “This humble monk cannot lecture on it, but in the marketplace there is Mahasattva Fu, who can expound this sutra.” The emperor issued an edict inviting the Mahasattva into the palace. When Mahasattva Fu arrived, he ascended the lecture seat, struck the lectern once, and stepped down.

At that moment he had already swept everything away so that no scene of confusion could be seen, yet Zhigong again asked, “Does Your Majesty understand?” The emperor said, “I do not understand.” Zhigong reported, “The Mahasattva has finished lecturing on the sutra.” Thus one made the head and the other made the tail. When Zhigong spoke this way, had he even seen Mahasattva Fu in a dream? Both alike were playing with the essential spirit.

This was truly extraordinary: although it was a dead snake, he skillfully played with it and brought it to life. Since this was lecturing on a sutra, why did he not analyze it into two aspects? An ordinary lecturer might say, “The essence of the vajra is so firm that nothing can destroy it; its function is so sharp that it can subdue all things.” An exposition like that would be called lecturing on the sutra.

Nevertheless, do you not know that Mahasattva Fu merely raised the key to the matter beyond, briefly displayed its cutting edge, and caused people to know where it comes down? For your sake, he directly cut off everything and raised a wall ten thousand fathoms high. Just then, Zhigong, not knowing good from bad, said, “The Mahasattva has finished lecturing on the sutra.” This was precisely a good intention that received no good recompense.

It was like a cup of fine wine diluted with water by Zhigong. It was like a pot of soup defiled when Zhigong picked up a pellet of rat dung and dropped it in. Tell me, if it was not lecturing on the sutra, what ultimately should it be called?

VERSE: He did not entrust this body to the Twin Grove,

But instead entered the Liang realm and stirred up yellow dust.

Had he not met old Zhigong at that time,

He too would have hurried away to a foreign land.

TRANSLATION: He did not entrust his worn body to the Twin Grove,

But instead entered the Liang realm and stirred up yellow dust.

Had he not met old Zhigong at that time,

He too would have hurried away to a foreign land.

EXPLANATION OF THE VERSE: The two lines, “Why not entrust his remaining life to Shuanglin? Instead, he entered the realm of Liang and stirred up golden dust,” show that Fu the Great Being and Bodhidharma traveled the same road. When Bodhidharma first arrived in Jinling, he met Emperor Wu.

Emperor Wu asked, “What is the ultimate meaning of the Holy Truth?” Bodhidharma replied, “Vast emptiness, nothing holy.” The Emperor asked, “Who is it that faces me?” Bodhidharma replied, “I do not know.” The Emperor did not accord with him. Bodhidharma then crossed the river and went to Wei. Emperor Wu related the matter to Master Zhi, who said, “Does Your Majesty know this man?” The Emperor said, “I do not.” Master Zhi said, “He is the bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara, transmitting the Buddha’s mind-seal.” Hearing this, the Emperor regretted what had happened and sent an envoy to bring Bodhidharma back.

Master Zhi said, “Do not say that Your Majesty should send an envoy to invite him back; even if everyone in the entire country went to invite him, he would not return.” Therefore Xuedou said, “Had he not met old Master Zhi at that time, he too would have had to flee to another country.” At that time, had Master Zhi not spoken on behalf of Fu the Great Being, Fu too would have been driven out of the country. Master Zhi had already spoken too much, and Emperor Wu was thoroughly deceived by the Master.

Xuedou’s essential meaning is that the Great Being should not have gone to Liang to lecture on the sutra and strike the lectern. Thus he says, “Why not entrust his remaining life to Shuanglin?” He could simply have eaten gruel and rice, lived according to his circumstances, and passed his days; yet he went to Liang, made only that annotation, struck the lectern, and descended from the seat. This is precisely where the Master stirred up dust.

If one has attained excellence, one’s eyes gaze into the blue clouds: above, no Buddha is seen; below, no sentient beings are seen. Yet when discussing the work of transcending the world, one cannot avoid having a head covered in ashes and a face smeared with earth: making existence out of nonexistence and nonexistence out of existence, making right into wrong and wrong into right, refining the coarse into the subtle, eating meat and drinking wine, wielding things crosswise and applying them contrary to convention—all to enable everyone to understand this matter.

If one did not act freely in this way, even when Maitreya descends to be born, there would not be so much as half a person. Fu the Great Being was already mired in mud and water; fortunately, he had an intimate who understood him. Had he not met old Master Zhi, he would almost certainly have been expelled from the country.

Tell me, where is he now?

CASE 68: WHAT IS YOUR NAME, YANGSHAN?

INTRODUCTION: Overturning the gate of heaven and reversing the axis of the earth, seizing tigers and rhinoceroses, discerning snakes from dragons—only a person of keen and lively ability can accomplish this. Phrase after phrase harmonizes; device after device accords. From ancient times until now, who has attained this? I present the case; look!

PUBLIC CASE: Yangshan asked Sansheng, “What is your name?” Sansheng replied, “Huiji.” Yangshan said, “Huiji is my name.” Sansheng replied, “Huiran.” Yangshan laughed, “Ha! Ha!”

EXPLANATION: Sansheng was a venerable adept of the Linji school. From his youth he possessed the ability to rise above the crowd. Endowed with great potential and great function, he moved freely and boldly within the assembly, and his reputation spread everywhere.

After taking leave of Linji, the Master traveled throughout the rivers and seas. Wherever he went among the monasteries, he was received as an honored guest. Traveling from the North to the South, he first went to Xuefeng and asked, “Once the golden fish has escaped the net, what does it use for food?” Xuefeng replied, “Wait until you have escaped 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 essential phrase.” Xuefeng said, “This old monk has many duties as abbot.”

Xuefeng and Sansheng went to inspect the monastery’s estate. On the road they encountered a monkey. Xuefeng said, “Each and every one of these monkeys carries an ancient mirror.” Sansheng said, “Nameless through many kalpas—on what basis do you present it as an ancient mirror?” Xuefeng said, “It has a flaw.” Sansheng said, “You are the spiritual teacher of fifteen hundred people, yet you do not even understand the essential phrase.” Xuefeng said, “My fault! This old monk has many duties as abbot.”

Later, the Master went to Yangshan. Yangshan greatly admired his eloquent talent and lodged him in the honored guest quarters. One day, an official came to consult Yangshan. Yangshan asked, “What office do you hold?” The official replied, “An office of suppression.” Yangshan raised his whisk and asked, “Can you suppress this?” The official could not answer. The entire assembly offered answers in his place, but none accorded with Yangshan’s meaning. At that time Sansheng lay ill in the Yanshou quarters, so Yangshan sent an attendant to ask him about this exchange. Sansheng replied, “The Venerable has a matter at hand.” Yangshan again sent the attendant to ask, “We do not yet know what matter he has.” Sansheng said, “A repeated offense is not pardoned.” Yangshan tacitly acknowledged him.

In his time, Baizhang gave the meditation board and sitting mat to Huangbo and gave the staff and whisk to Guishan. Later, Guishan gave them to Yangshan. Yangshan had already acknowledged Sansheng. One day, when Sansheng was taking leave to depart, Yangshan offered him the staff and whisk. Sansheng said, “I already have a teacher.” Yangshan asked the reason and then learned that Sansheng was a true Dharma heir of Linji.

As for Yangshan asking Sansheng, “What is your name?” he could not have been ignorant of the other’s name. Why, then, did he ask in this way? An adept must thoroughly test whether a person truly knows.

Yangshan seemed merely to ask at leisure, “What is your name?” Without deliberation, Sansheng replied, “Huiji,” rather than saying, “Huiran.” Why was this? Observe how one endowed with the eye is naturally unlike others. Sansheng acted this way, yet he was not mad; he was intent solely on seizing the banner and snatching the drum from beyond Yangshan’s words.

These words do not fall within ordinary sentiments and are difficult to fathom. Those who possess such skill can bring people to life. Therefore it is said, “He investigates the living phrase, not the dead phrase.” If one follows ordinary sentiments, one cannot cut people off.

See how the ancients contemplated the Way in this manner, exhausting their vital spirit before attaining great awakening. After awakening, when they functioned, they appeared the same as before they had awakened, exactly like people of the present day. Yet even in a single phrase or half a sentence spoken according to circumstances, they did not fall into ordinary sentiments.

Sansheng knew where Yangshan’s words were headed and immediately told him, “My name is Huiji.” Yangshan intended to capture Sansheng, but Sansheng instead captured Yangshan. Yangshan could only retaliate, saying, “Huiji is my name.” This was letting go. Sansheng replied, “My name is Huiran.” This too was letting go.

Therefore, below, Xuedou’s verse says, “If both capturing and both releasing are made the principle.” In this single line, he simultaneously versifies the whole matter. Yangshan laughed, “Ha! Ha!” There was both provisional and real, both illumination and function, for he was exquisitely responsive on all eight sides.

Thus he functioned with great freedom. This laugh was not the same as Yantou’s laugh. Yantou’s laugh contained poison.

Yet in this laugh, throughout a thousand ages and ten thousand ages, a cool wind blows, making one shiver. Xuedou brought it out in verse:

VERSE: Shuang shou shuang fang ruo wei zong

Qi hu you lai yao jue gong

Xiao ba bu zhi he chu qu?

Zhi ying qian gu dong bei feng.

TRANSLATION: If both capturing and both releasing are made the principle,

Riding the tiger has always required consummate skill.

When the laughter ends, who knows where he has gone?

Only the sorrowful wind should stir through a thousand ages.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: The line “If double gathering and double releasing are made the principle” means that in releasing, host and guest are interchanged. Yangshan asked, “What is your name?” Sansheng replied, “My name is Huiji.” This is double releasing. Yangshan said, “Huiji is my name.” Sansheng replied, “My name is Huiran.” This is double gathering.

In truth, this is the pivotal interchange: when gathering, everything is gathered; when releasing, everything is released. Xuedou has already versified it all at once. His meaning is that if there is neither releasing nor gathering, neither mutual interchange, then you are you and I am I; altogether, these are merely four words.

Why, then, is there coming and going, rolling up and stretching out within this? An ancient said, “If you stand, I sit; if you sit, I stand. If we both sit or both stand, both of us are blind.” This is double gathering and double releasing, and it may be taken as the essential principle.

The line “Riding the tiger, from the outset, aims at ending all achievement” possesses such lofty bearing and is the supreme pivotal point: when it is necessary to mount, mount at once; when it is necessary to dismount, dismount at once. You may block the tiger’s head or seize the tiger’s tail. Sansheng and Yangshan both possessed this style.

As for the line “His laughter ended—who knows where he went?” tell me, what was the Master laughing at? It brings one directly to the point where the cool wind makes one shiver. Why, then, does he finally say, “It should only stir the sorrowful wind through a thousand ages”?

This too is dying without anyone mourning; in one stroke, he has finished explaining it for you. Even if everyone in the world gnawed at it, they could not get into it and would not know where it comes down. Even this mountain monk does not know where it comes down.

Do you know?

CASE 69: NANQUAN DRAWS A CIRCLE

POINTER: Where there is nothing to gnaw upon, the ancestral mind-seal is like the workings of an iron ox. Having escaped the forest of thorns, Chan travelers are like a snowflake upon a blazing furnace. Setting aside being pierced seven times and bored through eight times on level ground, how can one avoid falling into a place of borrowing? Let us see it brought forth.

PUBLIC CASE: Nanquan, Guizong, and Magu were traveling together to pay respects to National Teacher Huizhong. Halfway there, Nanquan drew a circle on the ground and said, “If you can speak, we will go on.” Guizong entered the circle and sat down. Magu bowed in the manner of a woman. Nanquan said, “If it is like this, we will not go.” Guizong said, “What kind of activity of mind is this?”

COMMENTARY: At that time, Mazu’s teaching flourished in Jiangxi, Shitou’s Way flourished in the region of the lakes and the Xiang River, and National Teacher Huizhong propagated the Way in Chang’an. The National Teacher had personally met the Sixth Patriarch and afterward returned to dwell there. At the time, among the horned fellows of the South, there was no one who did not wish to reach his house and enter his chamber.

Anyone unable to do so would be ridiculed. These three old fellows wished to pay respects to the National Teacher, but halfway there they created this scene of failure and deficiency. Nanquan said, “If it is like this, we will not go.” Since each of them had been able to speak, why did he say they would not go?

Tell me, what was the ancient’s intention? At the time, when the Master said, “If it is like this, we will not go,” I would have slapped him across the ear and seen how skillful he was. What has upheld the essential principle through the ages is only this subtle pivotal point.

Therefore, Ciming said, “The thunderbolt is right at the end of the cord. Once you can pull it out and grasp it, turn it at once, like pushing a gourd over the surface of the water.” Many people say that their words showed mutual disapproval. They do not realize that when this matter reaches its ultimate point, one must leave behind mud and water, draw out the bolt, and pull out the nail.

If you form an understanding of the activity of mind, you have no connection with it. The ancients turned and transformed with marvelous skill. Arriving here, one cannot avoid being like this; there must be death and there must be life.

Look at them: one entered the circle and sat down, while another bowed in the manner of a woman. They were truly accomplished. Nanquan said, “If it is like this, we will not go.” Guizong said, “What kind of activity of mind is this?” Ordinary people would simply proceed in that fashion.

Guizong spoke this way in order to test Nanquan. Nanquan ordinarily said, “The moment you call it ‘thusness,’ it has already changed.” Nanquan, Guizong, and Magu were all people of the same household: one caught and one released, one died and one lived. Truly, they were extraordinary.

Xuedou brought it out in verse:

VERSE: Youji’s arrow shoots the monkey;

Circling the tree, how exceedingly straight!

A thousand people and ten thousand people—

Who among them has ever struck the mark?

Calling to one another, summoning one another, they return and come again;

On the road to Caoxi, cease advancing your steps.

TRANSLATION: Shooting the monkey—the arrow of Youji;

Around the tree, how exceedingly straight!

A thousand people and ten thousand people—

How many have ever struck the mark?

Calling and summoning one another, they return and go again;

On that road to Caoxi, cease advancing your steps.

Again he said: “The road to Caoxi is level and even; why cease advancing your steps?”

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: The two lines “Shooting the monkey—the arrow of Youji; around the tree, how exceedingly straight!” refer to Youji, a man of the state of Chu. His surname was Yang, his given name was Shu, and his style name was Youji. At that time, King Zhuang of Chu went hunting and saw a white monkey.

He ordered men to shoot it, but the monkey caught the arrows and laughed. The king commanded all his ministers to shoot it, yet no one could hit it. The king questioned his ministers, and they reported that Youji was the finest archer.

The king ordered Youji to shoot. As soon as Youji drew his bow, the monkey clung to the tree and wept. When the arrow flew forth, the monkey circled around the tree to hide, but the arrow likewise curved around the tree and struck it.

This was indeed a divine arrow. Why does Xuedou say that it was exceedingly straight? If it were exceedingly straight, it would not have struck.

Since it circled the tree, why say that it was exceedingly straight? Xuedou borrowed this meaning, and indeed employed it wonderfully. This incident comes from the Spring and Autumn Annals.

Some say that “circling the tree” means the circle. If that were truly so, such a person would not understand the principle of the words at all; how could they know the place of “exceedingly straight”? These three old fellows took different roads yet returned to the same Way; all together, they were exceedingly straight.

If you know where they were going, then though moving seven ways vertically and eight ways horizontally, you never depart from the square inch; a hundred rivers with different currents all return to the great ocean. Therefore, Nanquan said, “If it is like this, we will not go.” When a Chan monk with the true eye looks at it, it is merely playing with the spirit. Yet if one says it is playing with the spirit, it is still not playing with the spirit.

My late teacher Wuzu said, “These three are the samadhi of the Torch of Wisdom and the samadhi of King Majestic Adornment.” Although this is so, in bowing as a woman, Magu ultimately did not understand it as bowing as a woman. Though Nanquan drew a circle, he ultimately did not understand it as drawing a circle. Since it is not understood in that way, how should it be understood?

Xuedou said, “A thousand people and ten thousand people—how many have ever struck the mark?” How many, indeed, can hit the mark a hundred times in a hundred shots? “Calling and summoning one another, they return and go again” versifies Nanquan’s saying, “If it is like this, we will not go.” From that point, Nanquan did not go on, and so Xuedou said, “On that road to Caoxi, cease advancing your steps,” completely clearing away the forest of thorns.

Xuedou could not hold fast, so he said again, “The road to Caoxi is level and even; why cease advancing your steps?” The road to Caoxi is cut off from dust and devoid of tracks; plainly revealed, stark and level, it is a place of ease and repose. Why, then, cease advancing your steps? Each of you, look beneath your own heels!

CASE 70: GUISHAN ASKS THE REVEREND TO SPEAK

POINTER: For an adept, one word; for a fine horse, one stroke of the whip. Ten thousand years in a single thought, a single thought in ten thousand years. You must know the direct path before anything is raised. Tell me, before anything is raised, how can it be sought? Let us see it brought forth.

PUBLIC CASE: Guishan, Wufeng, and Yunyan were standing together in attendance upon Baizhang. Baizhang asked Guishan, “Setting aside throat, lips, and tongue entirely, how would you speak?” Guishan replied, “Reverend, please speak.” Baizhang said, “I do not refuse to speak to you; I only fear that in the future all my descendants will be lost.”

EXPLANATION: Guishan, Wufeng, and Yunyan were standing together in attendance upon Baizhang. Baizhang asked Guishan, “Having done away with the throat and lips altogether, how would you speak?” Guishan replied, “Please, Venerable Master, speak.” Baizhang said, “I do not begrudge speaking to you; I only fear that afterward all my descendants will be lost.” Although Baizhang spoke thus, his cooking pot had already been snatched away by someone else.

Baizhang then asked Wufeng. Wufeng replied, “Venerable Master, you too must do away with them altogether.” Baizhang said, “In a place where no one is, I shall shade my brow and watch for you.” Baizhang asked Yunyan, and Yunyan replied, “Venerable Master, do you still have them or not?” Baizhang said, “All my descendants will be lost.” Each of these three established a household of his own. An ancient said, “On level ground, countless people perish; the one who can pass through the forest of thorns is a person of skillful hands.” Therefore, masters of the lineage use a forest of thorns to test people.

Why? Because people cannot be tested with words of conventional sentiment. Chan practitioners must reveal their capacity within a phrase and discern the intent within the words.

Those who merely carry a board on one shoulder mostly die within the phrase itself; when they hear of doing away with the throat and lips altogether, they find no place to open their mouths. But one who possesses adaptive understanding can raise waves against the current and find a path precisely within the question, without injuring his hands.

Guishan replied, “Please, Venerable Master, speak.” Tell me, what was his intention? Here it is like sparks struck from stone, like a flash of lightning: in response to the question, he answered at once. He naturally had a road by which to emerge, without expending the slightest effort.

Therefore it is said, “He investigates the living phrase, not the dead phrase.” Baizhang did not discern him and merely said, “I do not begrudge speaking to you; I only fear that afterward all my descendants will be lost.” Generally, when a master of the lineage acts for the sake of others, he must pull out the nails and remove the pegs. People today might say, “This answer was not accepted; the other did not understand the saying.” Little do they know that here is a single road of living potential, a cliff rising a thousand fathoms, with guest and host pulling one another, alive and dynamically responsive.

Xuedou admired Guishan’s words—their manner was graceful, adaptable, and free, while still firmly commanding the essential stronghold. Therefore he composed this verse:

VERSE: Instead, he asks the Venerable Master to speak.

A tiger’s head sprouts horns and emerges from the wild grass.

Throughout the Ten Continents, spring ends and the flowers wither;

In the coral-tree grove, the sun shines brilliantly.

TRANSLATION: Again, he asks the Venerable Master to speak.

A tiger’s head sprouts horns and emerges from the wild grass.

Throughout the Ten Continents, spring ends and the flowers wither;

In the coral-tree grove, the sun shines brilliantly.

COMMENTARY ON THE VERSE: The responses of these three were each different: one presents a cliff rising a thousand fathoms; one simultaneously manifests illumination and function; and one cannot even finish saving himself. With the line, “Again, he asks the Venerable Master to speak,” Xuedou has fully revealed his capacity within this phrase. Then, arriving here, he gives a gentle push to make it easy for people to see.

He says, “A tiger’s head sprouts horns and emerges from the wild grass.” Guishan’s reply was like a fierce tiger with horns growing from its head—how could anyone approach it? A monk asked Luoshan, “What is it like when there is the same birth but not the same death?” Luoshan replied, “Like an ox without horns.” The monk asked, “What is it like when there is the same birth and also the same death?” Luoshan replied, “Like a tiger sprouting horns.” With this single line, Xuedou completed the verse.

Yet the master had ample talent for transformation and went on to say, “Throughout the Ten Continents, spring ends and the flowers wither.” Upon the sea are three mountains and ten continents, where one hundred years constitute a single spring. Xuedou’s words possess a graceful and boundless manner: when spring ends, the hundreds, thousands, and myriads of flowering plants all wither at once. Only “in the coral-tree grove, the sun shines brilliantly”; it does not wither and fall, but vies with the sun in radiance, each illuminating the other.

At that very moment, it is truly extraordinary. Xuedou used this image to elucidate the phrase, “Again, he asks the Venerable Master to speak.”

The Ten Continents are all regions adjoining the various countries beyond the seas: 1) Zu Continent: produces the incense that recalls the departed soul. 2) Ying Continent: produces fragrant herbs and precious stones, and its spring water tastes like wine. 3) Xuan Continent: produces an elixir that grants perpetual life when consumed. 4) Chang Continent: produces quinces and lustrous jade. 5) Yan Continent: produces fire for washing cloth. 6) Yuan Continent: produces a numinous spring as sweet as honey. 7) Sheng Continent: has mountains and rivers that are neither hot nor cold. 8) Fenglin Continent: people take phoenix beaks and qilin horns, boil them into glue,

and use it to join severed bowstrings. 9) Juxue Continent: produces a kind of lion with a bronze head and an iron brow. 10) Tan Continent: produces Kunwu stone for making swords that cut through jade as though it were mud.

Concerning coral, the Miscellaneous Accounts of Foreign Lands says: “From Great Qin, traveling southwest across the vast sea for some seven or eight hundred miles, one reaches Coral Continent. At the bottom by the continent are great slabs of rock, and coral grows upon them. People use iron nets to gather the coral.” The Record of the Ten Continents also says: “Coral grows on the floor of the Southern Sea. It resembles a tree two or three feet tall, with branches but no bark, like lustrous jade suffused with red. It is born in response to the moon, and at the tip of every branch is the moon’s halo.”