《徐仙翰藻》Vol. 2

The second volume of Xu Xian's Literary Elegance records this story: On the evening of a purification ritual (an ancient ceremony to dispel misfortune and pray for blessings), a fellow villager came to visit me holding incense. He mentioned that the plaque inscribed "Hall of Extended Blessings" in his ancestral home had been covered in dust for seventy or eighty years, losing its luster. Though he wished to replace it with a new one, he had never been able to fulfill this desire. Admiring his filial devotion, I had ink prepared and brushes readied, then wrote the two large characters "Tuán Chūn" (Gathering Spring) in a single inspired stroke.

"Tuán Chūn" means allowing all things between heaven and earth to be bathed in the vitality of spring—hibernating animals awaken, seeds break through the soil to sprout, and plants grow naturally. At first, my fellow villager did not fully grasp the deeper meaning, so I explained: The spring energy between heaven and earth is warm and harmonious, nourishing all things like a loving mother. If it were scorching, it would be summer; if desolate, autumn; and if bitterly cold, winter.

The "spring-like harmony" in human relationships follows the same principle. Bonds such as those between father and son, husband and wife, and brothers must be rooted in filial devotion, kindness, and harmony. Just as a tree must have deep roots for its branches and leaves to flourish when the spring breeze blows, so too must human relationships be grounded in sincerity. This passage uses the natural phenomenon of spring as a metaphor for the Dao of harmonious human relations, emphasizing that familial harmony must be built upon genuine affection.

This passage describes how a spiritual practitioner attains inner refinement and spiritual elevation. The adept observes that just as plants require deep roots in fertile soil to flourish, human cultivation also demands solid foundations. Even with the nourishing rains of spring, all efforts prove futile without proper grounding. He realizes one must nurture one's De (Virtue) with the same care given to tending plants.

The practitioner hosts a family gathering at home, where amidst shared wine and laughter, he comprehends the true meaning of "harmonious spring" (referring to an atmosphere of perfect accord). He perceives that maintaining this state of inner harmony makes every day springtime and every year vibrant with vitality. Rinsing his mouth with water to stay clear-minded, he recites texts and shares these insights with his family, who become deeply moved by his realizations.

The "door inscription" mentioned later contains carved admonitions: speech should be honest and trustworthy, conduct respectful and proper, while interactions require gentleness and prudence. Daily self-reflection on words and deeds, coupled with continuous study and practice, elevates one's character. Accumulating virtuous deeds brings prosperity to the family, and these principles must be passed down to future generations.

The text concludes with an account of the Buddhist master Qingcong's spiritual journey. Originally a Confucian scholar, he embraced monastic life after turbulent times, studying successively under Dongshan Shiheng and Yuzhong Shi Guangzhi. This master cultivated both inner and outer refinement—mastering Buddhist scriptures while continuing to study Confucian classics—exemplifying the path of harmonizing Buddhist and Confucian practice.

This passage describes the process by which Immortal Xu (Xu Xianhanzao) selected his Daoist sanctuary and the geomantic features of the local landscape.

Initially practicing at Yingtian Temple in Fujian for sixteen years, Immortal Xu often remarked that spiritual cultivation required seeking one's own opportunities. Later, he took notice of the old estate ruins of Councilor Tang, which had become desolate after wartime turmoil. In the Renchen year of the Zhiyuan era (1292), Tang's descendants sold him the property. Immortal Xu discovered exceptional feng shui characteristics here: the Twin Chignon Mountains stood in north-south opposition, with the northern range extending eastward and bifurcating into two branches—one forming a remarkable tripartite stone formation resembling the Chinese character "品". Legend holds that during the Yongjia era of the Eastern Jin Dynasty, a recluse surnamed Yu once cultivated Dao here in a thatched hut, hence the mountain became known as "Yu Pin Mountain" (Jade Triad Mountain).

The main ridge of Yu Pin Mountain meanders outward from this tripartite stone formation, with contours resembling a wasp's waist and horse's jaw. Three towering peaks rise at its center—their summits rounded and bases firm—named "Astonishing Peaks". Further along, the mountain contours twist like blooming lotus flowers, culminating where three ridges form the shape of an immortal seated in meditation. To the east lie the Eight Turtle Hall and Sizhou Bridge, while the west features the Qilin Grotto and Zhenwu Cliff. The mingtang (feng shui term for the open space before an auspicious site) is encircled by features like Black Stone Ridge and ancient pines, with two winding streams meandering through.

The outer area is complemented by Square Mountain as supporting backdrop, while internally the Celestial Pillar Peak serves as secondary support. Beneath Celestial Pillar Peak stands Yingtian Temple, with the two peaks facing each other like oxen and horses drinking from the streams—the entire topography displays ingenious vitality and spiritual resonance. The southern extension of Twin Chignon Mountain forms a "grand seat" configuration (feng shui term denoting land ideally suited for significant structures).

This passage describes the majestic mountain scenery surrounding Fuzhou's Yueshan Temple and the process of establishing its Daoist sanctuary. Peaks like the Jade Stamen Peak, Twin Youths Peak, Treasure Terrace Peak, Cloud-Rising Peak, Golden Railing Peak, Third Youth Peak, and Dawn Sun Peak tower magnificently, their imposing forms reaching toward the heavens. Master Yun of the separate Zhi Mountain once visited this area and composed his "Verses on Ten Marvelous Peaks" to express his admiration.

Later, a highly accomplished master recognized the spiritual potential of this location and chose to establish a Daoist sanctuary (daochang) on the northwestern mountainside facing southeastern waters. Though he lived with pristine virtue and initially sought reclusion, his reputation made complete withdrawal impossible. When local clan elders learned of his presence, they invited him to oversee the construction of Yueshan Temple. Situated north of Fuzhou city near bustling markets, the location seemed ill-suited for quiet cultivation—yet this master maintained crystal-clear mental clarity, transcending worldly attachments while remaining singularly devoted to establishing the sanctuary.

In the Yiyou year, the master entrusted disciples including Shi Long with construction. They leveled mountain terrain for foundations, built perimeter walls, and erected a hermitage on higher ground inscribed as "Longevity Heaven Jade Cliff Sanctuary." "Longevity Heaven" shares origins with "Responsive Heaven," while "Jade Cliff" derives from the local "Jade Grade Mountain" toponym. Within the sanctuary stood the Opportunity-Responding Hall, behind which lay the Guanyin Shrine, followed by two chambers named "Eastern Mountain Longevity Realm" and "Return to Simplicity"—the master humbly attributing these not to himself but to two ancestral predecessors.

Before the hall, workers excavated a lotus pond fed by mountain springs, where nine varieties of lotuses bloomed with harmonized fragrances despite their differences. This "Nine Grades" nomenclature referenced the mountain's tripartite structure—three summit stones, three central peaks, and three foothill branches totaling nine—embodying the "Jade Grade Mountain" symbolism. The sanctuary's entire layout and nomenclature subtly corresponded with cosmic principles, manifesting profound Daoist philosophy.

This passage documents the process of Daoist priest Xu Xian (styled Master Aofeng Shanren) establishing a Daoist sanctuary during the Yuan dynasty. Near the Heavenly Pond of Lotus Mountain originally existed a natural pool whose northwest orientation aligned with the Qian-Hai position (the northwestern trigram in the Bagua), resonating with celestial symbolism. Surrounded by pavilions and fragrant flora flourishing through all seasons, it had long been a coveted destination for visitors.

A Daoist master known by his religious name "Dongshan Yuzhong" accomplished three significant deeds: First, he donated three hundred mu of farmland to fund perpetual incense and lamp oil offerings, embodying the Golden Immortals' (Daoist perfected beings) teaching of "indestructibility." Next, he erected a pagoda beneath Sun-facing Mountain as a cultivation site for refining one's nature (xing) and vital essence (ming), subtly corresponding to the Golden Immortals' method of "quiescent extinction." Finally, in mid-autumn of the third year of the Dade era (1299), he dispatched his disciple Dao Huan with architectural plans, requesting documentation of the hermitage's construction.

As the hermitage neared completion, adjacent wasteland formerly owned by the late official Tang Chengyi was purchased to construct a comprehensive complex including: a Great Buddha Hall (structurally resembling Buddhist viharas), Three Gates, flanking corridors, a Dharma Hall, monastic quarters, and storehouses. The upper precinct served for imperial longevity rituals while the lower accommodated local devotees. The master's declaration—"What we fear isn't failure to complete, but failure to begin"—manifested his grand aspiration.

The chronicler, identifying as a descendant of the Xu clan of Guangling (recorded in the History of the Five Dynasties) and styling himself Master Aofeng Shanren, cites the Zen-inspired gatha of Master Zhaoxian: "Cultivation resembles climbing a hundred-zhang bamboo pole—one must ascend further; throughout the ten directions, all realms can perfect the Dharma body." Hearing this, the Daoist master laughed heartily, affirming: "Exactly so! When completed, you shall continue this record." These accounts were ultimately carved onto stone pathways for posterity.

Notably, the "abode for lodging the perfected" (qizhen zhi xue) denotes a cave for Daoist cultivation, while "Golden Immortals" honor Daoist adepts. The term "vihara" (zhaoti), originally Buddhist monastic terminology, here demonstrates Yuan-era interfaith architectural syncretism.

The term "Buddha" in Buddhism is originally interpreted as "not human." Since it is said to be not human, it is like having no roof above, no foundation below, and no walls, doors, or windows on all sides—taking the entire trichiliocosm (a Buddhist term referring to the vast universe) as one's dwelling. Such an expansive state—who can truly comprehend it? As the Diamond Sutra states: What is called adornment is not adornment, and thus it is called adornment—this is the realm of the Buddha. The Buddha-mind illuminates all things, omnipresent and boundless.

The master's (referring to the Sixth Patriarch Huineng) robe and bowl have been passed down in an unbroken lineage: he first studied under the Eastern Mountain's Zhen Gong and resided at Yingtian Temple; later, he received confirmation from Yuzhong Zhigong and lived at Yueshan Temple. The monastic life of morning bells and evening drums could have been spent in quiet leisure. Yet, this "Shoutian Yuyan" practice site built on Yupin Mountain—was it merely for displaying supernatural powers? Every brick, tile, beam, and stone here was personally arranged by the master. I feel the master's dedication was both arduous and profoundly simple.

After the practice site was completed, the master asked me to write a commemorative record. Though I wrote it, I felt it fell into clichés. The master's mind had long embodied the realms of Han Yu, Mazu, and Xue He (all eminent Tang Dynasty monks), utterly unconcerned with external forms. The grandest structure is the main hall enshrining the Buddha statue, followed by spaces for cultivation and daily living, and then gathering halls. There are also storerooms, kitchens, monastic quarters, and all manner of facilities—everything complete. Carpenters, masons, and laborers toiled busily, completing eighty to ninety percent of the work over four or five years, a testament to the project's immense scale. Yet I sense the master's intent—that unadorned, genuine spirit—remains undiminished.

As I continued writing this record, I worried I might miss the essence. Just as the monk Cen (a Tang Dynasty master) once said: People today ought to practice in seclusion. The master sat silently in meditation for a moment, then suddenly raised his staff and shouted: "This humble hermitage, though small, encompasses the Dharma-realm (a Buddhist term for the totality of truth). Unfolding, it is boundless; contracting, it has no core." Isn't this the very gong'an (a Chan teaching method) of Bodhidharma (the First Patriarch of Chan)? Do you understand? At that shout, my mind was instantly awakened. Thus, I realized the master's purpose in building this practice site is no different from the Buddha's intent when establishing the Jetavana Grove (the Buddha's renowned meditation site).

The text from Xu Xian's Literary Collection primarily discusses the profound significance of constructing a Daoist sanctuary (daochang) and the characteristics of its site selection. The core idea is that a true sanctuary does not lie in external forms but in the practitioner's state of mind and spiritual cultivation.

The passage begins with a rhetorical question: Where does the true essence of building a sanctuary reside? It then points out that the real sanctuary exists only within the "square inch" (a metaphor for the human heart). This sanctuary cannot be measured in feet or spans, its orientation cannot be determined by a compass, its realm surpasses the vastness of wilderness, its refinement exceeds the grandeur of ten mountain peaks, its form is deeper than twin mountain streams, and its origin is so profound it defies investigation.

One who comprehends this principle can attain the state described as "the entire earth is but a single eye of the monastic" (a metaphor for the wisdom that sees through worldly illusions), achieving a state of unimpeded spiritual freedom. At this stage, the sanctuary's radiance illuminates the ten directions like a thousand suns shining together—hence it is called the "universal illumination of the Buddha-mind." Establishing such a sanctuary is no easy task; it requires using Mount Sumeru (the legendary Buddhist mountain) as a brush tip and the ocean as ink to inscribe a stele on the great rock of Lion Cliff, ensuring future generations will forever know the origin of this sanctuary illuminated by the Buddha-mind.

The latter part details the life of Master Cong (courtesy name Shijing): Born into a Confucian scholarly family in Putian, Fujian, he mastered Confucian learning before turning to Buddhism, displaying extraordinary insight. After attaining realization at Dongshan, he chose the auspicious site of Jade Cliff to build his sanctuary. The location was surrounded by twin streams and guarded by ten peaks, with particularly exceptional feng shui in the southeast. Through clearing the land, compacting earth, and constructing walls, he eventually completed a meditation hermitage. The hermitage featured lotus ponds, flowering trees, and ancestral shrines, becoming a pure ground for practice. The text concludes by noting that the construction process received support from devotees, resulting in sturdy and spacious halls.

The Xu Xian Han Zao passage describes the construction process and scenic features of West Forest Monastery.

The text first portrays the temple's solemn and orderly architecture: its main hall stands amid the "Three Dharma Clouds" (a Buddhist term denoting the all-encompassing nature of Buddhist teachings), with long, upright corridors. The main gate (Mao Gate) faces the proper orientation, storehouses are well-stocked, kitchens immaculate, and every monk's cell is perfectly arranged. Surrounding the monastery lie several hectares of fertile fields, with a Buddhist pagoda towering among them—everything is in its right place. Master Long (likely the overseeing monk) and others followed directives to complete this five-to-six-year construction project.

Subsequently, the text employs Chan (Zen) koan-style language to reveal the essence of practice: one's true nature should manifest as naturally as "water in a vase or stars on a scale," achieving sudden self-realization through stillness. It emphasizes the Chan principle that "the mind itself is Buddha," illustrating how Buddha-nature (universal illumination) mirrors one's original mind. The passage admonishes later generations to attentively heed the patriarchs' profound yet subtle teachings.

The Record of West Forest Monastery's Construction section documents Fuzhou's geography: according to Guo Pu's Chronicle of Relocated Prefectures, Fuzhou was anciently called "Three Mountains," as the city contained the famed Wushi Mountain, Jiuxian Mountain, and Fang Mountain—the last being most majestic, appearing south of the administrative center like a natural desk. The author suggests such spiritually endowed landscapes inevitably produce extraordinary individuals.

A detailed depiction follows of West Forest Chan Monastery's magnificent scenery: its halls are vast and deep, with soaring eaves along winding corridors. To the east stands the fragrant kitchen (monastery kitchen), to the west the meditation hall. Structures like the Hall of Arhats and Jeweled Splendor Pavilion all display exquisite craftsmanship, with pristine storerooms, monastic quarters, and timber-stone materials. The monastery channels water into carved pools symbolizing pure mind-nature, while its enshrined Blue Lotus Buddha image radiates purple-golden light with white curls illuminating the ten directions (Buddhist term for the entire cosmos). The entire sacred site embodies the sublime purity of the Buddhist Pure Land.

As I lit incense and pressed my palms together, it felt as though I had ascended to the celestial halls—yet in truth, the Four Elements (earth, water, fire, wind) and Five Aggregates (form, sensation, perception, mental formations, consciousness) are all illusory and insubstantial. I couldn't help but sigh: this is precisely how those who transcend the mundane world pursue fame and achievement!

Moments later, the abbot of the monastery emerged in his kasaya robe, holding a sitting mat, to greet me. Observing this monk, I found his demeanor extraordinary, entirely free from the distinctions of worldly self and other. Bowing respectfully, I asked, "Are you the eminent monk who established this mountain sanctuary?" The abbot invited me to sit, brewed tea, and began recounting the story in measured tones:

This temple was first founded by the Tang Dynasty master Guangming. A century later, during the Song Dynasty, the Chan master Jingde expanded the sanctuary, bringing it to its full scale. Now, over three hundred years have passed. In the Xianchun era, the year Wuchen (1268), this humble monk arrived from Longjiang and has served as abbot here for ten years. Amidst the turmoil of war, the monastery was reduced to rubble and ruins, drawing sighs from all who passed by.

Without presumption, without consulting others, and without seeking external aid, I devoted all my personal savings, tending to the task as though it were my own private endeavor. On the original site, I gathered craftsmen and labored diligently for years to rebuild it. New fields were added, restoring the temple to its former scale, sufficient to sustain the monastic community. Now, with the morning bell and evening drum, we can offer prayers for the longevity of the sovereign above and provide the villagers with renewed refuge in the Dharma. In this way, perhaps I may stand blameless before the founding masters Guangming and Jingde.

Beside the dormitory hall, I also added a shrine and pagoda, enshrining images of eminent monks from past dynasties on either side. In the main hall, three Buddha statues were sculpted, and at its center, a sacred site was chosen for cultivation, seeking a return to simplicity and truth. My aspirations are now fulfilled. Today, I wish to carve this history into stone on the mountain, so future generations may know the story of this restoration.

Having heard of your profound understanding of Buddhist principles and your grasp of the profound teachings of emptiness, I boldly ask you to take Mount Sumeru as your brush and the ocean as your ink, to compose a few lines. Unable to refuse, I replied, "Excellent, excellent!" The abbot’s Dharma name is Zhengrong; his ancestral home is in the ancient county of Changle, and his lay surname was Xie. Born into a Confucian scholarly family, he is precisely the kind of rare talent who transcends the ordinary yet achieves renown in the world.

With the record completed, I let out a long cry and stepped out the gate—none knew where I went. The abbot sighed, "Truly, a divine being!"

Written on the eve of the Double Ninth Festival, in the first year of the Yuanzhen era (1295), by Xu Ruzi of Donghai, former Governor of Guangling.