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有一年九月份，在崔家窩堡東北角離我家四里地的地方，有一片大草甸子，裡面的柴草長得很高，很好。我每天拿著鐮刀去割柴。當時正趕上火暴（炎熱）的天氣，熱得了不得。我第一天割的柴草在烈日下一曬，第二天就乾了。就這樣，我天天割柴；割一大氣就往回挑。我一天往家挑八趟，每趟都挑十多捆柴草。那時候吃高粱米、小米飯，上園子搞幾根黃瓜蘸大醬。雖然吃的不怎麼著，可那時的氣力不知道哪裡來的。一天挑八趟柴草，還得天天割柴，天天起早貪晚打柴一點都不覺得累。
一天日頭壓山，雀懵眼（黃昏）以後。我挑著最後一趟柴草從河溝北往南走，河、溝是一根大佗（木樑）檔著的獨木橋。我挑著柴正走在獨木橋中間的時候，就聽見後面來了一幫人，走路的聲音、說話的聲音，吵吵鬧鬧地就往我身後來了。我挑著一擔沉重的柴草正走在獨木橋中間，放也放不下，也不敢回頭看。如果在這當當上回頭，就會連人帶挑子一起掉進河溝裡。那河溝裡的水能有四尺多深，裡面魚蝦很多。
我挑著柴過了獨木橋之後，我才放下柴挑子回頭一看，啥也沒有。嗯？奇怪了！剛才在身後的一幫人說話、吵吵鬧鬧的聲音我聽得很真切的，怎麼一個人影都不見了呢？我一看沒有甚麼人，又挑起柴挑子往回走。這一挑柴火越挑越沉，渾身這汗像披雨似的，把汗衫都濕透了。
從那以後，我天天還是去北甸子。扛著扁擔去，割一些柴草，中午回家往家挑一挑，晚上回家往回挑一挑柴草。幾天以後，回家的時候用繩子捆好一挑柴草，往起挑，怎麼也挑不動，就是渾身軟，一點氣力也沒有。從那以後，每天扛著扁擔去北甸子割柴，河溝北面的割完了我就在溝南割。天天割柴還可以，可就是渾身軟。天天扛著扁擔去，又空扛著扁擔回家。又過了幾天，割柴也割不了了。東南窩堡我岳父有馬車，他幫我拉回一大馬車柴火。
八月十六（陰曆）這一天吃完中飯做了一個夢，夢見天天在北甸子挑柴來回走的那個獨木橋上打仗。那頭一幫人，這頭就我一個。我掄起扁擔和那一幫人打。哪天他們也們沒打過我。上來一個，我就把他們打進水裡面去了；我把他們都打進水裡去了，我就扛著扁擔回家了。
這一天，又是和這一幫人在獨木橋打仗。我把他們都打進泥哈塘裡去了。河溝裡面沒有多少水了。掉進泥哈塘的人頭朝下，腳朝上倒栽蔥，一個個都出不來了。打完了，我拎著扁擔下了獨木橋，轉身剛要走，就瞅（看見）我母親從南邊來了。她手裡拿著像吹鼓起來的豬吹膀（膀胱）不是吹膀，是紅布條、綠布條漫（貼、粘）的胡椒眼（四方塊）。
「媽媽，你幹甚麼來了？」
「我給你撈魂來了！」
忽然間醒來，身體也強健了，像增長了九牛二虎的力氣。從那以後，這驚嚇失魂的病也好了。
野甸獨木鎖金龍，菩薩顯聖撈魂靈。
無人無我無煩惱，心如明鏡空不空。
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In September of one year, the hay was growing tall and lush in the big grass pasture at the northeastern corner of the Cui Family Fortress, about four
li from my house. Everyday, I would take my sickle to gather hay. At that time, there was a heat wave and it was unbearably hot. The hay I gathered each day would be dried by the following day under the rays of the fierce sun. In this manner, I gathered hay every day. Once I had a big heap, I would take it home by carrying it with a pole on my shoulder. Each day I would make eight trips, carrying over ten bales of hay on each trip. At that time, I ate meals of sorghum rice and millet, with a few cucumbers picked from the garden dipped in bean paste. I did not eat well, and I don't know where my strength came from.
Every day I made eight trips carrying the hay, which first had to be cut. I rose early and worked until late, but did not feel fatigued at all.
One day as the sun descended behind the mountains, I carried my final load of hay and walked southwards from the north side of a creek. Over the creek was a single plank bridge made of a long beam. As I crossed the bridge with my bales of hay, I heard sounds of footsteps and chattering from a group of people behind me.
They bickered and fussed as they approached me from behind. With the heavy load of hay on my shoulders, I could neither put down the hay nor turn my head to look while crossing the bridge. If I had turned my head, I would have fallen, hay bales and all, into the creek, which was about four feet deep and teeming with fish and shrimp.
After crossing the bridge, I was finally able to set down the hay and turn my head to look. There was nothing there at all. Huh? How strange! Just a moment ago, there had been a group of people talking behind me. The noise of their commotion was still ringing vividly in my ear. How could it be that not a single soul was behind me? When I saw that there was no one, I picked up my load of hay to continue my return trip. That load of hay grew heavier and heavier, and sweat began to pour out of my body like rain, drenching my shirt.
After that time, I continued to go to the northern pasture every day. Hauling my carrying pole there, I would cut some hay and start heading for home at noontime. In the evening, I would make another trip. After a few days, once when I was about to head home, I tied one bale of hay with a rope and tried to pick it up with my carrying pole, but no matter how hard I tried, I could not lift it. My whole body went weak, and I had not an ounce of strength within me. From then on, every day I would haul my carrying pole to the northern pasture to cut hay, and when the north side of the creek was done, I would go cut hay on the south side. I was still able to cut hay each day, but the only problem was that I felt weak all over. Every day I would go with the carrying pole on my shoulders, only to return with the pole and nothing else. After a few more days, I couldn't even cut hay anymore. My father-in-law owned a horse carriage at the Southeastern Fortress, so he helped me to haul a large carriage-load of hay back home.
On the 16th of the eighth lunar month, I had a dream after lunch. I dreamed that I was fighting every day on that single plank bridge that I walked across on my return trip from the northern pasture. That group of people was on the other end, while I was on this end. I picked up my carrying pole and starting fighting with them. None of them could defeat me. As each one approached me, I would whack him into the water; after I knocked them all into the creek, I set the pole upon my shoulder and went home.
One day (in my dream) I was fighting with these people again on the single plank bridge, and I knocked them into the muddy creek. The creek did not have too much water, and these people fell into the muddy creek head first, with their feet pointing skyward, like planted scallions. None of them were able to get out of the water. After the fight, I grabbed the carrying pole and got off the bridge. Just as I was about to turn and go, I saw my mother walking up from the south. She held in her hand what appeared to be some inflated pig bladders. No, they were not inflated bladders, but square blocks pasted over with strips of red cloth and green cloth.
"Mother, what are you doing here?"
"I came to capture your soul for you."
Suddenly, I awoke and my body was healthy again. I felt like I had the strength of nine bulls and two tigers. Since then, my ailment from being scared out of my wits was cured.
In the wild pasture, a single plank held the dragon of gold.
The Bodhisattva performs a miracle to capture the soul.
Devoid of others, devoid of self, free from afflictions—
The mind like a bright mirror is empty, yet non-empty.
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