In Xian County there was a constable surnamed Shi; I have forgotten his given name. He was careless about minor details, yet open-minded, bold, and upright in character. Toward those who engaged in despicable and sordid behavior, he felt deep contempt.
One day, he happened to be returning from a gambling house. He saw a family in the village—husband and wife, mother and child—embracing one another and weeping bitterly. He asked around for the reason. A neighbor explained:
“They owe a powerful local bully a debt. The man has been pressing them hard for repayment. With no other choice, they have had to sell the wife to someone else to pay off the debt. The couple have always loved each other dearly, and their feelings are very deep. Besides, the child has not even been weaned yet. How could they not grieve at being torn apart like this?”
Shi stepped forward and asked the villager, “How much do you owe?”
“Thirty taels of silver.”
“How much was she sold for?”
“Fifty taels. She is to become someone’s concubine.”
“Can she still be redeemed?”
“The contract of sale has been written, but the money has not yet been paid. Of course she can still be redeemed.”
At once, Shi took out the seventy taels of silver he had won at the gambling house and gave them all to the villager. He said, “Take thirty taels to repay the debt. The remaining forty taels—use it as capital to make a living. Do not sell your wife again.”
The couple were overwhelmed with gratitude. They immediately slaughtered a chicken and set out wine to entertain Shi. When the wine had nearly run out, the husband found an excuse to carry the child outside. With a meaningful glance, he signaled to his wife to keep Shi company in order to repay his kindness. The woman silently nodded in understanding. As she spoke with Shi, her manner gradually became intimate.
Shi perceived what was happening. He straightened his face sternly and said to the woman:
“I have spent half my life as a bandit and half as a constable for the authorities. I am a man who kills without blinking an eye. But to take advantage of someone’s distress and violate a respectable woman—this I will absolutely never do!”
After finishing the food and drink, he flung his arm back and left without so much as a backward glance.
Half a month later, a great fire suddenly broke out in Shi’s village at night. It was just after the autumn harvest; every household had piles of grain and firewood stacked inside and out. The thatched roofs, millet stalks, and fences were all highly flammable. With the wind strong and the air dry, the flames spread swiftly. In a short time, the raging fire had reached Shi’s house.
Judging that there was no way for his family to escape, Shi sat inside with his wife, closed his eyes, and waited for death. In his daze, he seemed to hear someone shouting from above the roof:
“An urgent decree has arrived from the God of Mount Tai: Shi and his entire family are granted full exemption!”
No sooner had the voice ceased than the back wall of the house collapsed with a crash, opening a path of escape before their eyes. Shi grasped his wife with his left hand and carried his son in his right arm. With a single leap—like a man suddenly grown wings—he escaped from the sea of flames.
After the fire was extinguished, it was counted that nine people in the village had been burned to death. The neighbors pressed their palms together and chanted the Buddha’s name, saying:
“Yesterday we laughed behind your back, calling you foolish! Who would have thought that seventy taels of silver would redeem three lives?”
I believe that Shi received the protection of the God who governs fate. Of the merit involved, four parts out of ten came from donating money to help the villager; six parts out of ten came from refusing the temptation of a woman.
— Ji Xiaolan
Here is a faithful and natural English translation:
⸻
The Buddha said:
“Bhikkhus, suppose a log were carried downstream by the current.
If it does not cling to the near shore, does not cling to the far shore, does not sink in midstream,
is not seized by humans, is not seized by non-humans,
is not caught in a whirlpool, and does not decay—
then it will surely reach the ocean.”
The Buddha then explained:
• The near shore = the six internal sense bases (eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, mind)
• The far shore = the six external sense objects (forms, sounds, smells, tastes, tactile objects, mental phenomena)
• Sinking in midstream = craving and sensual desire
• Seized by humans = attachment to worldly life
• Seized by non-humans = attachment to wrong views
• Whirlpool = the five sensual desires
• Decay = moral corruption; breaking precepts
If a practitioner, like the log, does not cling, does not sink, and is not entangled,
he will surely reach Nibbāna.
— The Simile of the Log
From the Saṁyutta Nikāya 35.197 (Dārukkhandha Sutta)
A certain banker had two grandsons named Mahāpanthaka and Cūḷapanthaka. The elder, Mahāpanthaka, often accompanied his grandfather to listen to the Dhamma. Later, he went forth into the monastic life, joined the Saṅgha, and after some time attained arahantship.
His younger brother, Cūḷapanthaka, also followed his elder brother into the monastic life. However, because in a past life he had mocked a very dull bhikkhu, he was exceedingly slow-witted in this life. He could not memorize even a single verse within four months. Seeing this, his elder brother Mahāpanthaka suggested that he might as well return to lay life.
One day, the famous physician Jīvaka invited the Buddha and many bhikkhus to his residence for a meal offering. Cūḷapanthaka’s name was not included among the bhikkhus who were to go. When he realized that he would not be going, he became deeply dejected and decided to disrobe.
Knowing his thoughts, the Buddha called him and instructed him to sit facing east at the entrance of the monastery. The Buddha gave him a piece of cloth and told him to rub it while repeatedly reciting, “Removing impurity (Rajoharaṇaṃ).” After giving this instruction, the Buddha went with Mahāpanthaka and the selected bhikkhus to Jīvaka’s house.
After the Buddha departed, Cūḷapanthaka diligently rubbed the cloth and recited, “Removing impurity.” Before long, the cloth became dirty. At that very moment, the wholesome kamma from his past matured, enabling him to realize the impermanent nature of all conditioned things.
Meanwhile, at Jīvaka’s residence, the Buddha, through his supernormal knowledge, perceived Cūḷapanthaka’s progress. He then radiated light, causing Cūḷapanthaka to feel as though the Buddha were standing before him, saying: “It is not only the cloth that becomes dirty through impurity. The human body and mind are also defiled by greed, hatred, and delusion. Only by removing these defilements can one fulfill the purpose of practice and attain the noble fruit.”
Understanding the deeper meaning of the Buddha’s words, Cūḷapanthaka continued his meditation. Before long, he attained arahantship and was endowed with extraordinary wisdom and spiritual powers.
At that time, Jīvaka’s household was preparing to pour water into the Buddha’s alms bowl as a gesture of offering. However, the Buddha covered his bowl with his hand to prevent the water from being poured and asked, “Is there any bhikkhu still at the monastery?”
“No, there is none.”
“There is still one,” said the Buddha, and he instructed someone to fetch Cūḷapanthaka.
When the messenger arrived at the monastery, he saw not just one bhikkhu but many identical bhikkhus. These were all manifestations created by Cūḷapanthaka through his psychic powers.
Confused, the messenger returned to report what he had seen. He was sent back again with instructions to say, “The Buddha summons the bhikkhu named Cūḷapanthaka.”
But when he did so, many voices responded, “I am Cūḷapanthaka!”
Perplexed, he returned once more. This time he was instructed to seize the first bhikkhu who answered, “I am Cūḷapanthaka.” When he grasped the first one who responded, all the other forms instantly disappeared.
Bhikkhu Cūḷapanthaka then accompanied him to Jīvaka’s residence. After the offering of alms, at the Buddha’s prompting, Cūḷapanthaka confidently delivered a discourse on the Dhamma.
Later, when the bhikkhus happened to mention Cūḷapanthaka’s story, the Buddha said: “Those who have firm faith and strive diligently will certainly attain arahantship.”
Note: Cūḷapanthaka did not attain arahantship within a short time. He had been preparing for many lifetimes. The Buddha merely helped him remove the remaining defilements and be liberated from the afflictions caused by ignorance.
“All encounters arise from causes and conditions. Nothing comes together without reason.
Generally speaking, those united through kindness will surely be in harmony; those bound through resentment will surely be in conflict.
There are also connections that are neither kindness nor resentment, or both kindness and resentment — these arise from debts and obligations carried over, compelling each party to take from and repay the other.
That is all.”
— Yuewei Caotang Notes (《阅微草堂笔记》)
Imperial Censor Hu Muting said:
In his hometown there was a family who raised a pig. Whenever this pig caught sight of an elderly neighbor, it would glare fiercely, roar wildly, and charge straight at him, trying to bite him. Yet it behaved this way toward no one else.
At first the old man was furious and wanted to buy the pig, slaughter it, and eat its meat to vent his anger. Before long, however, he suddenly came to a realization. He thought to himself:
“This must be the enmity formed in a previous life, as spoken of in the Buddhist scriptures. But in this world, there is no hatred that cannot be resolved.”
So he purchased the pig at a high price and sent it to a temple, where it was kept as a “longevity pig” and fed and cared for. From then on, whenever the pig saw the old man, it would lower its head and press back its ears, drawing close to him affectionately. It no longer showed the fierce and vicious manner it once had.
I once saw a painting by Sun Zhong titled The Arhat Subduing a Tiger. On the painting there was also an inscription by Li Yan of western Bashu. Its general meaning was this:
A person of great spiritual attainment rides a fierce tiger as if guiding a fine horse. It is not that the tiger was originally tame; rather, the power of virtue has transformed its ferocity.
From this we may understand that, between Heaven and Earth, all sentient beings can become kindred companions. One only hopes that all beings may interact with utmost sincerity, and not become enemies through mutual fear and suspicion.
I think this inscription serves perfectly as corroborating evidence for the story told by Censor Hu.
— Ji Xiaolan
The Spring Festival 288 Years Ago
About ten-odd li from our hometown, there was a blind folk artist surnamed Wei. Before New Year’s Eve in the Wuwu year of the Qianlong reign (1738), he went from house to house singing short tunes to bid farewell to the old year and offer New Year blessings. Each household gave him some food in return, which he carried home in a sack slung over his back.
On the way, he accidentally lost his footing and fell into an abandoned well. The well was located in a desolate wilderness, and since it was New Year’s Eve—when every family was gathered together to keep vigil—there were hardly any passersby on the road. The blind artist shouted in the dry well until his voice was hoarse, but no one heard him. Fortunately, the bottom of the well was relatively warm, and he had dry rations in his sack. When thirsty, he would slowly chew a few bites of fruit. In this way, he miraculously survived for several days.
By coincidence, a butcher named Wang Yisheng happened to be driving a pig home. When he was more than half a li away from the well, the pig suddenly broke free from its rope and ran wildly across the fields, eventually falling into the same abandoned well. As Wang Yisheng used a hook to haul the pig up, he discovered that there was also a person in the well. Thus the blind artist was rescued, though he was already barely alive.
The abandoned well was not originally along Wang Yisheng’s route. The fact that he was somehow led there was perhaps the secret arrangement of spirits or divine forces. My late elder brother Qinghu once asked the blind artist about his state of mind while trapped in the well. The blind artist said:
“At that time, all thoughts had faded from my mind, and my heart was like dead ashes. I only worried about my elderly mother, who lay ill in bed at home, waiting for her blind son to return and support her. Now she has lost even her blind son; she must surely be starving by now. When I thought of this, waves surged in my heart, my liver and gall seemed to split apart, and the pain was unbearable.”
My late brother Qinghu said, “If the blind artist had not had this thought at that moment, I imagine the rope binding Wang Yisheng’s pig would not have broken.”
— Ji Xiaolan
In the seventh year of the Kaiyuan era (719 CE), there was a scholar named Lu Sheng who traveled to the capital to sit for the imperial examinations. He failed to obtain a degree and had no choice but to return home to farm. One day, while journeying, he passed through Handan and stayed at an inn. There he met an old Daoist priest called “Lü Weng.” The two found each other congenial in conversation, and Lü Weng presented him with a celadon pillow. At that time, the innkeeper was steaming a pot of yellow millet.
Lu Sheng lay down to sleep using Lü Weng’s pillow. In his dream, he married a daughter of the Cui clan of Qinghe, passed the imperial examinations, and rose swiftly through the ranks, eventually becoming grand chancellor. Suddenly, he was framed by colleagues, imprisoned, and exiled for many years. After being exonerated, he was granted the title Duke of Yan. He enjoyed the utmost wealth and honor, and finally died of old age at home. When he awoke from the dream, he discovered that the yellow millet in the innkeeper’s pot had not yet finished cooking.
— “A Dream of Yellow Millet”
Mahāyāna Treatise on Meaning states:
“The term Śīla means ‘coolness’ and is also called ‘precepts.’
The unwholesome actions of the three karmas (body, speech, and mind) burn the practitioner, just like heat.
The precepts are able to prevent and quell these actions; therefore they are called ‘coolness.’
This refers to extinguishing the burning afflictions of greed, anger, and delusion by refraining from evil and practicing good, thereby attaining ease and peace of body and mind.”
Giving (generosity). Kind speech. Beneficial action. Cooperation.
— The Four Means of Embracing —
the path practiced by Bodhisattvas.
Outwardly, Bodhisattvas practice the Four Means of Embracing;
inwardly, they take the Four Immeasurable Minds—loving-kindness, compassion, sympathetic joy, and equanimity—as their foundation.
“Youxia” (having leisure) and “Wuxia” (lacking leisure) are an important pair of concepts in the Buddhist context, especially when discussing the “precious human life endowed with leisure and opportunity.”
Simply put:
• Youxia (有暇) = having the time and opportunity to practice
• Wuxia (无暇) = lacking the conditions and opportunity to practice
However, the “leisure” here does not refer to having free time in the ordinary sense, but rather to whether one possesses the necessary conditions for practicing the Dharma.
I. What is “Wuxia” (Lack of Leisure)?
In Buddhism, there is often mention of the “Eight States of No Leisure”, referring to eight conditions in which practicing the Dharma is nearly impossible. For example:
1. Being born in hell
2. Being born as a hungry ghost
3. Being born as an animal
4. Being born in the long-life heavens (where one only enjoys pleasure and does not practice)
5. Being born in a remote or peripheral region (where the Dharma cannot be heard)
6. Holding extreme wrong views
7. Being born in an era without the Buddha’s teachings
8. Lacking the full faculties (serious impairments)
These are called “no leisure” — not because one lacks time, but because the objective conditions simply do not permit spiritual practice.
II. What is “Youxia” (Having Leisure)?
“Youxia” refers to conditions such as:
• Being born as a human
• Possessing all six faculties intact
• Having the opportunity to encounter the Dharma
• Not holding extreme wrong views
• Having life circumstances that allow reflection on existential questions
This state is called “having leisure.”
To be able to hear the Dharma and contemplate liberation is extremely rare. This is what is meant by:
“A precious human life with leisure and opportunity is difficult to obtain.”
In other words—
Your present condition (being able to think, to study, to ask questions)
is regarded in Buddhism as extraordinarily rare.
From a Mahāyāna perspective:
• “No leisure” = being completely driven by karma and afflictions
• “Having leisure” = having at least a small space for awareness
Thus, fundamentally, this is not about social status.
It is about this question:
Do you have the possibility of awakening?