“Forty years ago I left my mother's womb,
Fated to disaster since before my birth.
Escaping with my life I floated in the waves
Until I reached Jinshan where I renewed my body.
I nourished my nature and studied the sutras,
Sincere in worship of the Buddha, not wasting time.
Now that His Majesty has sent me to the West,
I am deeply honoured by you ancient immortals.”
The four ancients then praised him, saying, “Holy monk, you have followed the Buddha's teaching since you left your mother's womb. By cultivating your conduct from childhood you have become a lofty monk who has found the Way. We are very happy to see you and would like to ask you to teach us. Could you possibly tell us the rudiments of the Dhyana dharma? It would be a great comfort to us.” When the venerable elder heard this he was not at all alarmed, and this is what he said to them:
“Dhyana is silence; the dharma is that which saves. Silent salvation can only come through enlightenment. Enlightenment is washing the mind and cleansing it of care, casting off the vulgar and leaving worldly dust. Human life is hard to obtain; it is hard to be born in the central lands; and the true dharma is hard to find. There is no greater good fortune than to have all three. The wonderful Way of perfect virtue is subtle and imperceptible. Only with it can the six sense-organs and the six forms of consciousness be swept away. Wisdom is this: there is no death and no life, no excess and no deficiency, emptiness and matter are all included, holy and secular both dismissed. It has mastered the tools of the Taoist faith and is aware of the methods of Sakyamuni. It casts the net of phenomena and smashes nirvana. Perception within perception is needed, enlightenment within enlightenment, then a dot of sacred light will protect everything. Light the raging fire to illuminate the Saha realm; it alone is revealed throughout the dharma world. Being utterly subtle it is firmer than ever: who crosses the pass of mystery through verbal persuasion? From the beginning I cultivated the Dhyana of great awareness: I was fated and determined to attain enlightenment.”
The four elders listened with cocked ears and were filled with boundless joy. Each of them kowtowed and was converted to the truth, saying with bows of gratitude, “Holy monk, you are the very root of the enlightenment to be found through Dhyana meditation.”
The Ancient Cloud-toucher said, “Dhyana may be silence, and the dharma may well save, but it is necessary for the nature to be settled and the mind sincere. If one is a true immortal of great awareness one has to sit in the Way of no-life. Our mysteries are very different.”
“The Way is not fixed; its form and function are one. How is yours different?” Sanzang asked. To this the Ancient Cloud-toucher replied with a smile:
“We have been firm from birth: our forms and functions are different from yours. We were born in response to heaven and earth and grew through the rain and the dew. Proudly we laugh at wind and frost; we wear out the days and nights. Not one leaf withers, and all our branches are full of firm resolve. What I say has no emptiness about it, but you cling to your Sanskrit. The Way was China's in the first place and only later looked for more evidence in the West. You are wearing out your straw sandals for nothing: you don't know what you are looking for. You are like a stone lion cutting out its own heart, or a fox salivating so hard it digests the marrow of its own bones. If in your meditation you forget your roots you will pursue the Buddha's reward in vain. Your words are as tangled as the brambles on our Thorn Ridge and as confused as the creepers. How can we accept a gentleman such as you? How can one like you be approved and taught? You must reexamine your present state and find a life of freedom in stillness. Only then can you learn to raise water in a bottomless basket, and make the rootless iron-tree flower. On the peak of the Miraculous Treasure my feet stand firm; I return to the assembly at Longhua.
When Sanzang heard this he kowtowed in thanks, and the Eighteenth Lord and the Lone Upright Lord helped him back to his feet, Master Emptiness said with a chuckle, “Cloud-toucher's remarks revealed things a little too clearly. Please get up, holy monk: you don't have to believe every word of it. We didn't intend to use the light of the moon for serious discussions. We should chant poems, feel free, and let ourselves relax.”
“If we're going to recite poems,” said Cloud-toucher with a smile, pointing towards the stone house, “why don't we go into the hermitage and drink some tea?”
Sanzang answered with a bow and went over to look at the hermitage, above which was written in large letters TREE IMMORTALS' HERMITAGE. They all then went inside and decided where to sit, whereupon the red devil servant appeared with a tray of China-root cakes and five bowls of fragrant tea. The four old men urged Sanzang to eat some cakes, but he was too suspicious to do so, and would not take any till the four old men had all eaten some: only then did he eat a couple. After they had drunk some tea it was cleared away. Sanzang then stole a careful look around and saw that everything was of a delicate and intricate beauty in the moonlight:
Where waters flowed beside the rocks,
And fragrant scents from the flowers curled,
The scene was one of cultured peace,
Free from the dust of a lower world.
Sanzang took great pleasure in gazing on this sight: he felt happy, relaxed and exhilarated. He found himself saying a line of poetry: “The dhyana heart revolves in moonlike purity.”
The couplet was completed by Energy, who said with a smile: “Poetic inspiration is fresher than the sky.”
To this Lone Upright added: “By grafting on each line embroidery grows.”
Then Emptiness said: “Pearls come when naturally the writing flows.”
Cloud-toucher continued: “The glory is now over: Six Dynasties disappear. The Songs are redivided to make distinctions clear.”
“I shouldn't have let those silly words slip out just now,” said Sanzang, “I was only rambling. Really, I am a beginner trying to show off in front of experts. Having heard you immortals talk in that fresh and free-ranging way I now know that you old gentlemen are true poets.”
“Don't waste time in idle chat,” said Energy. “A monk should take things through to the end. You started the verse, so why don't you finish it? Please do so at once.”
“I can't,” Sanzang replied. “It would be much better if you completed it for me, Eighteenth Lord.”
“That's very nice of you, I must say!” commented Energy. “You started the verse so you can't refuse to finish it. It's wrong to be so stingy with your pearls.” Sanzang then had no choice but to add a final couplet:
“Waiting for the tea lying pillowed in the breeze,
Spring is in the voice now that the heart's at ease.”
“I like 'Spring is in the voice now that the heart's at ease,'“ said the Eighteenth Lord.
To this Lone Upright replied, “Energy, you have a deep understanding of poetry, and spend all your time savoring its delights. Why don't you compose another poem for us?”
The Eighteenth Lord generously did not refuse. “Very well then,” he replied, “let's make up chain couplets. Each person has to start his couplet with the last word of the couplet before. I'll lead off:
Without spring's glory there would be no winter's death;
Clouds come and mists depart as if existing not.”
“Let me tack another couple more lines on,” Master Emptiness said.
“Not any breath of wind to rock the spreading shade;