[Original Text of the Koan]

Chen Guan of Yanping, style name Yingzhong, called himself the Huayan Lay Practitioner. An upright and unyielding official, he possessed the bearing and integrity of the ancients. He devoted himself to the Buddhist canon and was unmatched in discussion. Yet his investigation of Chan had not brought him great awakening; thus, he interpreted many Chan causes and conditions merely through conceptual understanding. He deeply loved the Recorded Sayings of Chan Master Huinan and annotated nearly all of it, but he could not annotate only the phrase, “A vajra and a mud figure rub each other’s backs.” He once told someone, “This must have a source, but no one has yet known it.”

As the proverb says, “Before a person of great wisdom there are three feet of darkness.” This is indeed no falsehood.

[The Elder’s Marginal Comment]

It was plainly told to you—why do you not understand? Let me add another annotation for you: “The Eastern Mountain walks upon the water!”

[Sawing Apart a Scale Weight]

Because the Huayan Lay Practitioner’s “investigation of Chan had not brought him great awakening,” he could naturally only “interpret Chan causes and conditions through conceptual understanding.” This was plainly like counting another person’s treasure, entirely unrelated to his own fundamental concern. Yet he dearly loved the Recorded Sayings of Chan Master Huinan and annotated it throughout, except that he could not set pen to paper on “A vajra and a mud figure rub each other’s backs.”

The Recorded Sayings of Chan Master Huinan presumably refers to the recorded sayings of Chan Master Huanglong Huinan. Yet the present recorded sayings of Chan Master Huanglong contain no such account as “A vajra and a mud figure rub each other’s backs.” This may be due to differences among editions. Since the Huayan Lay Practitioner could not penetrate “A vajra and a mud figure rub each other’s backs,” his other annotations may likewise not have truly accorded with Huanglong’s intent.

At most, the Huayan Lay Practitioner was a scholar of Chan; he was not necessarily one awakened to Chan. He once said to someone, “This saying must have a source; it is simply that no one knows it.” He wanted to investigate its source—plainly, he was doing scholarship. Every word spoken by Chan Master Huanglong flowed from his vast and open heart, intended to set forth the Patriarchs’ meaning in its entirety. How could it be like this sort of textual investigation? Thus, his annotations may not have accorded with Huanglong’s intent. Since he loved textual investigation, let us investigate it on his behalf:

The Record of Pointing to the Moon states: “… There was a monk named Shenguang who had long lived in the Yi and Luo regions. He had read widely in the various classics and was skilled at discoursing on abstruse principles. He would often sigh, saying: ‘The teachings of Confucius and Laozi concern ritual arts and social norms, while the books of Zhuangzi and the Book of Changes do not exhaust the wondrous principle. Recently I have heard that the great being Bodhidharma is residing at Shaolin. Such a realized person is not far away; I should go to that realm of profundity.’ He thereupon went to attend upon the Patriarch. The Patriarch constantly sat upright facing the wall, and Shenguang heard no instruction or encouragement.”

Guang reflected to himself: “In former times, those who sought the Way knocked out their marrow to obtain marrow, pricked themselves for blood to relieve hunger, spread out their hair to cover mud, and leapt from cliffs to feed tigers. The ancients were still thus—who am I?” It happened to be during a heavy snowfall. Guang stood waiting through the night, and by dawn the accumulated snow had risen above his knees. Yet he stood with ever greater reverence.

The Patriarch looked back at him with compassion and asked, “You have stood long in the snow. What do you seek?” Guang wept sorrowfully and said, “I only pray that the Reverend, in compassion, will open the gate of sweet dew and liberate widely all kinds of beings.” The Patriarch said, “The unsurpassed wondrous Way of all Buddhas requires diligent striving through vast kalpas, doing what is difficult to do and enduring what cannot be endured. How could one, with scant virtue and little wisdom, a light and arrogant mind, hope to attain the true vehicle? It would only be labor in vain.”

Having heard the Patriarch’s instruction and encouragement, Guang secretly obtained a sharp knife, cut off his own left arm, and placed it before the Patriarch. Knowing that he was a vessel of the Dharma, the Patriarch said, “When all Buddhas first seek the Way, they forget bodily form for the Dharma. Now that you have cut off your arm before me, your seeking may indeed be possible.” The Patriarch therefore changed his name to Huike. Huike then asked, “May I hear the Dharma seal of all Buddhas?” The Patriarch replied, “The Dharma seal of all Buddhas is not obtained from another.”

Huike said, “My mind has not yet found peace. I beg the Master to set it at rest for me.” The Patriarch said, “Bring me your mind, and I will set it at rest for you.” After a long while, Huike said, “Having sought for the mind, I cannot find it.” The Patriarch said, “I have set your mind at rest for you.” (Bajiao Qing said, “A vajra and a mud figure rub each other’s backs.” Yuanwu Keqin said, “At just such a time, where is the dharmakāya?”)

It turns out that the phrase “A vajra and a mud figure rub each other’s backs” was Chan Master Bajiao Huiqing’s comment on this Patriarchal koan. Chan Master Bajiao Huiqing was the fourth-generation patriarch of the Guiyang school. His lineage was: Weishan Lingyou → Yangshan Huiji → Nanta Guangyong → Bajiao Huiqing.

At this point, both the origin of the phrase “A vajra and a mud figure rub each other’s backs” and the person who uttered it have been established through textual investigation. Can one enter into the Patriarchs’ intent through such investigation? Clearly not.

The author of this book, Chan Master Dahui Zonggao, was a contemporary of the Huayan Lay Practitioner. Although he knew that “beneath his great reputation, the reality fell far short,” he was somewhat reluctant to say much. He merely cited the proverb, “Before a person of great wisdom there are three feet of darkness.” In truth, calling him “a person of great wisdom” was polite, just as we may seek an enlightened teacher in our practice, yet in speech do not slander famous teachers. The “three feet of darkness” in the proverb is the actual assessment. In fact, how could the Huayan Lay Practitioner’s “darkness” have been limited to three feet?

The Elder could bear it no longer and commented: “It was plainly told to you (‘A vajra and a mud figure rub each other’s backs’)—why do you not understand?” Let me interpret it for you (“Let me add another annotation for you”)—“The Eastern Mountain walks upon the water!”