There was a small temple called the Jōhōji Temple to the south of the Hōshōji Temple. The administrative priest of the Jōhōji Temple had a sacerdotal appearance, but his mind and actions were as vulgar as those of a spoilt layman. He violated the precepts by committing sins, such as killing, stealing, promiscuous behavior, and drinking liquor, which were caused by ignorance, anger, and greediness. He spoke false words as he liked, engaged in vulgar entertainments, and wasted his time daily in playing backgammon and go. He used the temple belongings for personal purposes without regret, and was oblivious to the greed, desire, and delusions that degraded him. The way he indulged himself in evil deeds was like a sea absorbing streams and like a fire consuming faggot.

His ten colleagues once recommended that he visit the Kiyomizu Temple, and they accompanied him there. On their way home, they all visited the Rokuwara-mitsuji Temple, and happened to listen to the lecture on the Hokekyō. They returned rejoicing. This was the single good deed done by the administrator in all his life. He did nothing else good. Finally, he became old, his life was exhausted, and he passed away.

Due to his bad deeds, the administrator was naturally reborn as a great poisonous snake whose spirit possessed his widow, and which tearfully grieved over its suffering snake status saying, “Since I indulged myself in evil and since I did very little good, I have suffered the consequences of my bad karma, and am reborn to endure the greatest sufferings. My body is as hot as the burning fire which burns all the trees and grasses that touch my body. Countless poisonous insects live in my body, devour my flesh when hungry, and suck my fluids when thirsty. Thus, my torments and sufferings are indescribable. But on account of a single good deed done in my past, I am relieved from torture for a short while.

While still the administrator, I happened to listen to the lecture on the Hokekyō at the Rokuwara-mitsuji Temple. The merit of the sūtra had permeated me, and every day, at the Hour of the Sheep [one to three o’clock in the afternoon], a cool breeze blew from the direction of the Rokuwara-mitsuji Temple, and fanned my body, which was immediately relieved from the heat and insect bites. During this short time, my heart and body were filled with joy, but at the same time, I showed regret for my lack of merit by hitting my head with my tail while shedding bloody tears.

The merit from hearing one lecture has benefitted me over many years. How would it be if one practised the Buddhist Way all his life? Wouldn’t it be possible for one to take even a lotus seat some day? Now I wish you to copy the Hokekyō, and release me from my suffering.”

All those who listened to this, said, “We should abandon everything, and listen to the Hokekyō recitations.” The widow and her children felt pitiful, copied the sūtra, and offered services. Later they were notified that the administrator was finally delivered from his suffering. (Page 56-57)

During the reign of Empress Abe, Priest Kōon lived in the temple Amabenomine for a long time. By day and by night, he recited the Hokekyō diligently and fervently.

In old age, he became seriously ill. He was so exhausted that he had difficulty in rising and in reclining for any purpose. His disciple mourned to Kōon, “Master, you are so fatigued because of your grave illness. Unless you have some treatment, you won’t be able to recover and may die. Practicing the Way by maintaining one’s health is what Buddha has been preaching. You should buy fish and eat them as your medicine.”

Listening to the disciple’s recommendation, Kōon permitted his disciple to get some fish. The disciple sent a boy to the seaside of Kii Province for fish. The boy bought eight large nayoshi fish, put them in a box, and set out on his return, carrying the box on his back.

On the way, the boy met three laymen acquaintances who asked what he was carrying on his back. The boy, without thinking, said that it was the Hokekyō. Seeing the fluids from the fish oozing from the box, and smelling the fishy odor, the laymen stopped the boy in the street to correct the boy’s untrue words. In front of the passers-by, the laymen said to the boy, “You are carrying fish on your back. Why did you say that it was the Hokekyō?” The bystanders said that the box should be opened for inspection. The boy prayed mentally, “My master has maintained the Hokekyō for years. May the fish turn into the Hokekyō and save him from shame!” The people opened the box and behold! They saw eight rolls of the Hokekyō lying in the box. Viewing this, the people were awestruck and left the boy.

One of the laymen was still suspicious and followed the boy to the temple, and secretly told Kōon the details. On listening, Kōon thought this most extraordinary and did not eat the fish.

The joyful layman threw his body on the ground and paid homage to Kōon saying, “Oh how noble, how noble! The real fish turned into the rolls of the sūtra due to the power of the sūtra and your virtue, Holy Man Kōon! On the contrary, being ignorant and disbelieving the truth of cause and effect, I have annoyed your boy with suspicions. My sin is very grave. Please, Great Master, forgive me. I will have faith in you now and hereafter.” The layman became a patron of Kōon and venerated him thereafter.

One should know that if one cures one’s illness and takes care of oneself for the sake of the Law, poison will become medicine just as the fish became the sūtra. This story appears in the Ryōiki. (Page 39-40)

Among the disciples of Jōchō, the head priest of Kōryūji Temple, was a priest whose name is unknown. His mind was that of a secular man even though his appearance was that of a priest. Holding a bow and arrows in his hand and hiding a dagger in his bosom, he shot birds and animals and ate fish whenever he saw them. He was certainly not qualified to hold the priestly beads in his hand, nor to wear a priestly robe over his shoulders. He was truly a shameful priest who violated the precepts.

However, he venerated the chapter of Juryō of the Hokekyō and recited it without missing a single day. Later he followed the advice of Genshin, the head priest of the Hōshōji Temple, and stayed where they kept the vehicles by the temple gate.

Finally, he contracted a serious illness and was certain to die. Having observed his bad deeds during his life and his grave illness in his last moments, the head priest felt pity toward this shameful priest and decided to grant him the precepts.

As soon as the bad priest received the precepts, he rose from his bed, felt easy in his sickness, and gained the correct faith. He washed his hands and mouth, joined his palms, and recited the chapter of Juryō single-mindedly.

As he recited the last two verses of the chapter saying that one could enter the path to enlightenment and instantly become a Buddha, he completed the chapter and passed away with a serene mind. (Page 98)