In the reign of Empress Abe, Fujiwara no asomi Hirotari was suddenly taken ill, and, in order to cure the illness, he went to live at a mountain temple of Makihara, Uda district, Yamato province. He kept the eight precepts and quietly practiced calligraphy with a brush at the desk till the evening of the seventeenth of the second month in the second year of the Jingo keiun era. His young attendant, thinking he was asleep, shook him and tried to waken him, saying, “It is time to worship the Buddha since the sun has set.” Still he remained motionless. The attendant shook him harder, and he dropped his brush and fell flat on his back with his arms and legs folded, not breathing. Upon close inspection he was found to be dead. In awe and terror, the attendant ran home to inform his family and relatives of his death. At the news they prepared for a funeral, but they went to the temple three days later and found him restored to life and cured of the illness, waiting for them.

He answered their inquiries in this way: “There came men with moustaches growing straight up, clad in red robes and armor and equipped with swords and halberds. They called to me, saying, ‘The Office has suddenly summoned you,’ and, with a halberd at my back urged me to accompany them. They forced me to hurry all the way, with one in front and two in the rear escorting me.

“Ahead of us there was a deep river; the water being black as ink, did not run but stood still. A good-sized young branch was placed in the middle of the stream, but it was not long enough to reach both sides of the river. The messenger said to me, ‘Follow me into the stream and ford it by following in my footsteps.’ Thus, he guided me
across.

“There was a many-story pavilion in front of us that was shining brightly and gave off light. Curtains made of precious stone beads closed four sides of the building, so that I could not see the face of the person sitting inside. One messenger ran inside and addressed him, saying, ‘Here he is.’ A voice answered, ‘Let him in.’

“When I was led in, the curtain was moved, and the king asked me, ‘Do you know the woman standing behind you?’ Turning around, I saw my wife, who had died in childbirth. I replied, ‘This is none other than my wife.’ Then the king said to me, ‘I have summoned you because of this woman’s appeal. She has already suffered three of her six years of punishment, and she has three more years to go. She implored me to let her share the rest of her suffering with you since she died in childbirth.’

“I said, ‘I will copy, expound, and recite the Hoke-kyō and hold services in order to save her from suffering.’ Then my wife addressed the king, saying, ‘Please take his word and let him go back to the world at once.’ Agreeing with her, the king said to me, ‘Go back to the world immediately and practice good.’

“When I reached the gate of the palace, as he had directed me, I was curious to know who had summoned me, and, turning around, asked, ‘I would like to know who you are.’ Thereupon, he said, ‘I am King Yama, also called Bodhisattva Jizō in your country.’ Then he stroked my neck with his right hand, saying, ‘You will never meet disaster, since I have marked you with a charm. Lose no time in going home,’ One finger of his hand was about ten yards around.”

This is the report of Hirotari no asomi. For the sake of his deceased wife, he copied, expounded, and recited the Hoke-kyō, held services, and accumulated many posthumous merits in order redeem her from her suffering. This is an extraordinary event. (Pages 233-235)

On Mt. Yoshino there was a mountain temple called Amabe-no-mine. In the reign of Empress Abe, a fully qualified monk lived an ardent life of self-discipline there. When he became too exhausted and weak to move around, he had a desire to eat fish and said to his disciple, “I would like to have fish. Will you go and get some for me to eat?” According to the master’s wish, the disciple went to the seacoast of Kii province, bought eight fresh gray mullet, and returned with them in a small chest.

On the way he happened to meet three familiar patrons of the temple who asked him, “What are you carrying in the chest?” The acolyte answered, “This is the Hoke-kyō.” However, the water from the fish dripped out of the chest, and it smelled. The laymen realized that it was not the scripture. Soon they came to the neighborhood of the market of Uchi in Yamato province. They rested beside the acolyte and pressed him, saying, “What you are carrying is not the scripture. It is fish.” He replied, “It is not fish. It is nothing but the scripture.” Then they forced him to open the chest. Having found it impossible to refuse, he opened it and discovered that the eight fish had turned into eight scrolls of the Hoke-kyō. At the sight the laymen were stricken with awe and wonder and left him.

One of them, however, was still suspicious, and, wanting to find out about the whole affair, followed him in secret. When the acolyte returned to the mountain temple, he reported to his master in detail what the laymen had done. Listening to him, the master felt wonder and joy in learning that heaven had protected him, and he ate the fish. Thereupon, the layman who had witnessed the whole series of events, prostrated himself on the ground and said to the dhyāna master, “Fish turn into the Hoke-kyō when a sage eats them. Because of our ignorant and wicked minds, we disturbed and accused him without knowing the law of causality. Will you please forgive our sin? From now on I acknowledge you as a great master and will serve you with reverence and offerings.” After that he became a great patron of the temple and made offerings to the master.

Indeed, we know that the master saved himself through his devotion to dharma. As to his food, even poison turns into honeydew; eating fish is no offense for him. For fish is turned into a scripture, and heaven in sympathy prepares a way for him. This is also a miraculous event. (Page 230-231)

This tale also apprears in Miraculous Tales of the Lotus Sutra from Ancient Japan

In the reign of Empress Abe who governed Ōyashima at Nara Palace, there was a monk, Dhyāna Master Eigō in the village of Kumano in Muro district, Kii province. He taught and guided the people by the sea. His contemporaries revered him as a bodhisattva, respecting his self-discipline. As he lived in a place south of the imperial capital, he was called the Bodhisattva of the South.

Once a dhyāna master came to the bodhisattva. He had with him a copy of the Hoke-kyō (written with very small characters in one scroll), a pewter pitcher, and a stool made of rope. He used to recite the Hoke-kyō constantly. After one year or so, he thought of leaving Dhyāna Master Eigō, and with a bow presented his stool as an offering, saying, “I am leaving you and going into the mountains to cross over to Ise province. Hearing this, the master gave him one bushel of ground dry glutinous rice and had two lay brothers accompany him to see him on his way. After having been escorted for a day, he gave them his Hoke-kyō, bowl, and ground dry rice, and sent them back, while he continued with only twenty yards of hemp rope and a pewter pitcher.

After two years had passed, the villagers of Kumano went up to a mountain by the upper stream of the Kumano to cut down trees to build a boat. They heard a voice reciting the Hoke-kyō, and it did not stop for days and months. Listening to the voice reciting the scripture, the boat builders felt faith and reverence arising, and, with their rationed food as an offering, they looked everywhere for the reciter. Although they could find no trace of him, the voice reciting the scripture went on as before.

After half a year, they returned to the mountain to draw out the boat. Again, they heard the voice continuously reciting the scripture. They reported this to Dhyāna Master Eigō, and, as he also wondered about it, he went to the mountain and heard it for himself. After a search he discovered a corpse hanging over a cliff, its feet tied with a hemp rope, that of a man who had jumped to his death. Beside the corpse there was a pewter pitcher. It was evident that the corpse was that of the monk who had left him. At the sight Eigō wailed in sorrow and went back.

After three more years, villagers came to him, saying, “The voice has never ceased to recite the scripture.” Eigō went back to collect the bones, and, when he looked at the skull, he found that the tongue was still alive and had not even begun to decay in the course of three years.

Indeed, we know that this event occurred because of the mysterious power of the Mahayana scripture, and the merits of the late monk who had recited it.

The note says: What a noble thing it was for the dhyāna master to reveal a miraculous sign of the Mahayana scripture in his flesh-and blood body by reciting the Hoke-kyō constantly! Though he flung himself from a cliff and was exposed to the elements, his tongue alone did not decay. Needless to say, he is sacred and not ordinary.

Also, on Kane-no-take in Yoshino there was a dhyāna master who went from peak to peak reciting the scripture. Once he heard a voice reciting the Hoke-kyō and Kongō hannya-kyō ahead of him. He stopped to listen to it, and, in searching in the bushes, he found a skull. Though it had been exposed to the elements for a long time, its tongue had not decayed but retained its life. The dhyāna master enshrined it in a purified place, saying to the skull, “By the law of causation I met you,” and made a shelter above it with grass, living beside it to recite the scripture and hold services six times a day. As he recited the Hoke-kyō the skull joined him, and its tongue vibrated. This is also a miraculous event. (Page 223-224)