The Breakdown and Reconciliation of Ouyang Jingwu and Wang Enyang, 1940–1942: An Analysis Based on Newly Discovered Correspondence

Abstract

Wang Enyang, together with Lv Cheng, was long regarded as one of Ouyang Jingwu’s closest disciples, often described as his “right- and left-hand man.” Scholarly consensus has generally assumed that their teacher–disciple relationship remained harmonious throughout Ouyang’s lifetime. However, newly published correspondence from Chen Mingshu’s Correspondence with Friends and Colleagues on Scholarly Matters reveals that after 1940 their relationship grew increasingly strained, culminating in a near-complete rupture. Although Wang, under the persuasion of Ouyang, Chen, and Lv, later expressed contrition and sought reconciliation, the rift was never fully repaired. Even at the time of Ouyang’s death, their once intimate bond had not been restored.

1. Instruction

Ouyang Jingwu 歐陽竟無 (1871–1943) stands as one of the most prominent figures in the modern Buddhist revival movement in China, making exceptional contributions to both Buddhist scholarship and education. In the realm of Buddhist education, the Zhina Neixueyuan 支那內學院 (China Inner College), which he founded, was a true gem in the history of Republican-era Buddhism (Aviv 2020). More than three hundred scholars studied at the Institute, among whom were several major intellectual figures of modern Chinese academic history, such as Lv Cheng 呂澂 (1896–1989), Xiong Shili 熊十力 (1885–1968), Wang Enyang 王恩洋 (1897–1964), Tang Yongtong 湯用彤 (1893–1964), and Meng Wentong 蒙文通 (1894–1968). Among Ouyang’s disciples, Lv Cheng and Wang Enyang were particularly instrumental to his endeavors, often referred to as his “right and left hands.”

While scholarship on Lv Cheng is abundant, studies on Wang Enyang have also increased in recent years, especially following the publication of the Collected Works of Mr. Wang Enyang 王恩洋先生論著集 in the early twenty-first century. Scholars such as Huang Xianian 黃夏年 have devoted special attention to the relationship between Ouyang Jingwu and Wang Enyang, shedding light on Wang’s role in Ouyang’s preaching and propagation of the Dharma (see Huang 2004a, 2004b). Jorgensen (2021) has examined the debates surrounding the Awakening of Faith in Mahāyāna, in which figures such as Wang Enyang and Ouyang Jingwu engaged with Taixu 太虛 (1890–1947) and others.

Given that Wang was a close disciple of Ouyang, receiving his guidance during key stages of his life and gradually emerging as an influential figure in the scholarly world, as well as playing a vital role in Ouyang’s Buddhist studies, textual editing, and printing projects, the prevailing view in the academic community has been that their teacher–disciple relationship remained consistently close throughout Ouyang’s lifetime. However, newly published materials in Chen Mingshu’s Correspondence with Friends and Colleagues on Scholarly Matters 陳銘樞友朋論學書劄 (hereafter CMS) reveal that after 1940, tensions between Ouyang and Wang became severe, reaching the point of an open rupture. Subsequently, under the counsel of Ouyang, Chen Mingshu 陳銘樞 (1889–1965), and Lv Cheng, Wang took the initiative to seek reconciliation and express remorse to his teacher. Yet, despite these efforts, the bond between master and disciple was never fully restored before Ouyang’s passing.

The CMS preserves twenty-six letters documenting shifts in the relationships among Ouyang Jingwu, Chen Mingshu, Mei Xieyun 梅擷芸 (1880–1947), Wang Enyang, and Lv Cheng between 1940 and 1944. Of particular value are several letters bearing marginal annotations by Ouyang and others, which offer rare glimpses into the authors’ unvarnished sentiments beyond the formal content of the correspondence. This article takes these twenty-six letters as its principal source base and adopts a methodological approach that integrates close philological examination with intellectual-historical analysis. It begins with a systematic collation and comparative reading of letters exchanged between Ouyang, Wang, and other relevant figures from 1940 to 1942, paying particular attention to marginal annotations and epistolary contexts in order to reconstruct, as far as possible, the interlocutors’ immediate positions and emotional dispositions. It then situates the disagreements revealed in these letters within the broader transformation of modern Buddhist thought and the internal dynamics of Ouyang Jingwu’s scholastic network, analyzing the interplay between doctrinal controversy, norms of teacher–disciple relations, and individual historical circumstances. Finally, by examining the mediating interventions of figures such as Chen and Lv, the study explores the historical functions of private correspondence in the transmission of modern Buddhist ideas and the negotiation of interpersonal relationships, thereby offering a reassessment and refinement of prevailing interpretations on the basis of close textual analysis.

2. From Debate to Estrangement: The Epistolary Dispute and Breakdown of Relations Between Ouyang Jingwu and Wang Enyang

In 1922, through the introduction of Liang Shuming 梁漱溟 (1893–1988), Wang Enyang traveled to Nanjing to visit Ouyang Jingwu. After engaging Ouyang in sustained doctrinal discussion, Wang was deeply impressed and chose to remain at the Zhina Neixueyuan to study Buddhism under his guidance. He stayed there until 1927, when he returned to his native Sichuan. These six years at the Institute marked the period in which Wang contributed most significantly to Ouyang’s endeavors. Although Wang occasionally voiced an intention to return home, Ouyang repeatedly urged him to “go quickly and return quickly” 速去速歸 so that they might “jointly promote the Great Dharma” 共宏大法 (Wang 2001, vol. 10, p. 501). This was also the most industrious and prolific period of Wang’s life: he was at his most diligent in study, most productive in writing, most heavily engaged in administrative responsibilities, and most profoundly influenced by Ouyang’s thought. During this time, he published twenty-three works in which Ouyang’s intellectual imprint is everywhere evident (see Huang 2004a, pp. 178–80).

From the perspective of Ouyang’s intellectual trajectory, however, these years predated a major shift in his philosophical outlook: the transition from the framework of Faxiang (Yogācāra in its “dharma-character” interpretation) to that of zhuanyi 轉依 (“transformation of the basis”) (see Cheng 1999, pp. 185–89). This transformation was largely completed around 1936. After leaving the Institute in 1927, Wang never again returned to take up a formal post there. His contact with the Institute—and with Ouyang personally—did not cease; indeed, after the outbreak of the Sino-Japanese War in 1937, when Ouyang and the Institute relocated to Jiangjin 江津 in Sichuan, their exchanges became even more frequent. Yet intellectually, Wang did not maintain alignment with Ouyang. As he established his own teaching network, he grew increasingly skeptical of Ouyang’s doctrinal shift. By 1940, Wang began to voice his reservations publicly.

In October 1940, at the invitation of Dingjiu 定九, the abbot of Huayan Monastery in Baxian 巴縣, Wang began a public lecture series on the “Chapter on Faculties and Dispositions” (Li zhongxing pin 力種姓品) of the Yogācārabhūmi-śāstra 瑜伽師地論. The lectures were printed and issued in installments as they were delivered. By late October, more than half of the chapter had been covered. Before the 27th of the month, Wang had completed his Commentary on the Chapter on Faculties and Dispositions in the Bodhisattvabhūmi Section of the Yogācārabhūmi-śāstra (Yujia shidi lun bendi fen pusa di li zhongxing pin shu 瑜伽師地論本地分菩薩地力種性品疏), although only half of the work had been printed. On that day, he wrote to Ouyang, then residing in Jiangjin, remarking in his letter that “there is something on my mind that I wish to present to you, but cannot” (獨區區之意有欲上陳而不能者) (see CMS, p. 7). The “something… but cannot” referred to a number of doctrinal points advanced in the course of his lectures that diverged from Ouyang’s own positions. It is likely that in writing this letter, Wang hoped to elicit a direct response from his master.

It was not until 14 December that Ouyang Jingwu responded, opening his letter with a critique of Wang’s observance of proper teacher–disciple etiquette. Taking particular exception to Wang’s earlier phrase, “there is something on my mind that I wish to present to you, but cannot,” Ouyang reminded Wang that his competence in the Yogācārabhūmi corpus—and, by extension, his authority to compose commentaries and disseminate its doctrines—derived solely from instruction received under Ouyang’s guidance. On that basis, Ouyang insisted that filial transmission (shoushou授受, the proper reception of Dharma from a teacher) precludes the latitude permitted in formal debate: “whereas in debate each party may freely present opposing positions, the disciple who receives instruction is obliged to abide by the teacher’s teaching without introducing heterodox or divergent views” 獨是授受與辯論不同，授受不能贊與一辭，辯論乃能兩呈其意，此所以有欲上陳不能也. To allow the disciple to argue with the master, Ouyang warned, would effectively reverse the pedagogical hierarchy: “should the student’s counter-positions proliferate, the authority of instruction would be inverted. What was intended as the master’s transmission of the Dharma to the disciple would thereby be effectively reversed” 若陳說蜂起，是則宛然在此布教，是則欲傳法於子，反為子傳法於予也. In other words, Ouyang’s critique was that, while scholarly discussion and independent thought were acceptable in formal debate, such challenges were inappropriate within the context of teacher-led instruction. The master’s concern was to preserve the proper transmission of the Dharma without it being inadvertently subverted by the disciple’s personal interpretations.

Ouyang next directs his critique to the substantive shortcomings in Wang’s freshly printed commentary. He identifies two fundamental hermeneutic errors that vitiate doctrinal clarity: (1) the reification of expedient teachings (Skt. upāya, Ch. Quan 權) as ultimate truth (paramārtha, Ch. shi 實), thereby mistaking provisional pedagogical devices for definitive soteriological statements 一不明權實之法而將權作實; and (2) the conflation of universal principles (zong 總) with their contextual specifications (bie 別), resulting either in a premature totalization that eclipses necessary particulars or in an atomistic focus that forfeits synthetic coherence 二不明總別之法而得總或不得別，得別或不得總. By equating expedient doctrine with ultimate meaning, Wang is charged with misconstruing the very plasticity that characterizes Buddhadharma. The dialectic of zong and bie—the general architectonic of Buddhist thought versus its discrete, situational applications—demands simultaneous penetration: absent the universal, the system disintegrates; absent the particular, praxis becomes impossible. Ouyang’s verdict is severe: Wang’s vision remains conceptually parochial, unable to marshal the full range of dharmic phenomena into a coherent hermeneutic field or to integrate fragmentary insights into a unified doctrinal structure. These strictures betray a palpable intellectual disappointment—Ouyang’s recognition that his erstwhile disciple has failed to assimilate the architectonic core of Mahāyāna thought.

Ouyang regarded Wang’s grasp of the Buddhist doctrinal landscape as parochial and judged that Wang had fundamentally misconstrued his own intellectual stance. In his letter, Ouyang sketched a concise genealogy of Buddhist thought—from the sectarian formations of early Buddhism, through the Mahāyāna polarity of “emptiness” (śūnyavāda) and “existence” (bhāvavāda), and onward to the elaborated syntheses of Tiantai 天台宗, Huayan 華嚴宗, and related systems. Each school, he argued, possessed a provisional utility in “remedying partiality and correcting excess” 補偏救弊, yet none could be taken as the solitary summit directly aligned with the paramārtha or “first principle.” Against this background, Ouyang reproved Wang for having misread his evaluation of Tiantai, Huayan, Chan, and related traditions—imagining that he had “surrendered” to these lineages 投降台、賢. In fact, as he noted in a marginal annotation at the head of the letter (“I have, in plain terms, censured them as unwholesome” 明明斥其非善), his position was not one of uncritical acceptance.1 Rather, he sought to integrate jiao 教 (doctrinal teaching) with zong 宗 (sectarian tradition) in order to realize “the Buddha’s realm with the Bodhisattva’s conduct” 佛境而菩萨行—that is, to take the Buddha’s enlightenment as the ultimate telos while following the Bodhisattva’s path as the operative mode of practice 以佛境為究竟所向，以菩薩行為實踐軌道. This point he reiterated in a headnote to a copied letter sent to Chen Mingshu and others:

請諸公順上下文而究其義，豈是投降台、賢？誣妄乃至是。當面說鬼，亂加人罪，並文亦不讀清，且故不清，斷取一句。請與第三函同看。

I ask you to read my words in sequence and in context—how could I possibly have ‘surrendered’ to Tiantai or Huayan? Such an accusation is outright calumny! He voices outright falsehoods in my presence, slaps on a label at will; he has not read the essay carefully, indeed refuses to read it properly, and then snatches a single sentence as his basis for judgment. Bring out the third letter and compare it side by side, and you will see the truth for yourself.

Ouyang judged that Wang remained confined to a narrow corner of Yogācāra study, displaying a constricted and parochial perspective. This impression was formed upon reading only the opening lines of Wang’s commentary. Ouyang considered Wang’s understanding of dharma and dharmalakṣaṇa overly limited—for instance, reducing them merely to “causal conditions” 因緣有 or “practical efficacy” 大用—and failing to apprehend the full scope of the ultimate truth, in which everything is dharma, the emptiness of dharma-nature and its manifestations as dharmalakṣaṇa coexist, and all phenomena converge into a unified dharmalakṣaṇa. Ouyang further feared that, given Wang’s narrow and rigid outlook, any attempt to promulgate his own “corner of the dharma” on a large scale would “disrupt the assembly” 破壞大會 and “fail to guide while provoking opposition” 不能引助而反引敵. Implicitly, Wang was judged not only incapable of advancing the proper Dharma but also liable to engender conflict and factionalism.

Ouyang Jingwu also criticized Wang Enyang’s scholarly demeanor, noting tendencies toward prideful self-regard (ren wo man, 人我慢) and a lack of proper reverence for the canonical texts. He recalled a prior discussion with Wang concerning the concept of the dharma-dhātu, during which Wang cited the Āgamas and the Dharmaguṇa Sūtra to argue that “the dharma-dhātu is a single dharma.” Ouyang regarded Wang’s manner as marked by a dismissive, flippant attitude—what he described as “seeming disdain mingled with mockery” (sì xiè bù xiè, xiào tài guān zhèng)—reflecting both intellectual arrogance and a cavalier approach to scriptural study.

Ouyang contended that Wang displayed notable deficiencies in scholarly conduct, including ego-conceit and a lack of proper reverence for the canonical texts. He recalled that during prior discussions on the concept of dharma-dhātu (法界), Wang cited the Āgama Sutras 阿含经 and the Dharmadrum Sutra 法鼓经 to support his claim that “the dharma-dhātu constitutes a singular dharma” 法界為一法. Ouyang regarded Wang’s manner as marked by a dismissive, flippant attitude—what he described as “seeming disdain mingled with mockery” 似屑不屑，笑態觀證—reflecting both intellectual arrogance and “a cavalier approach to scriptural study” 不屑讀經.2

On the sixth day of the first lunar month in 1941, Wang wrote in reply to Ouyang’s letter, stating in response to the criticisms, “Even to this day, I remain uncertain what to say in my reply” 迄至今無以為辭而答—a veiled refusal to engage directly with Ouyang’s reproaches. He explained that this silence arose from his perception that Ouyang’s letter conveyed “a pronounced sense of pedagogical authority” 師道尊嚴, which made him “hesitant to respond hastily” 不敢率爾. Although Wang explicitly disclaimed any intention of rebuttal at the outset, he proceeded to offer candid reflections, observing, “I have long felt that your exposition of the Dharma incorporates excessive subjective interpretations” 私心總覺吾師佛法太多子也. He further invoked Confucius’s dicta—“Do I possess knowledge? No, I lack it” 吾有知乎哉？無知也 and “I wish to remain silent” 吾欲無言—to emphasize that neither knowledge nor truth is monopolized by any single individual, and that genuine wisdom lies in humility and reticence. This constituted a measured response to Ouyang’s earlier assertions, such as “You ought to accept all that I teach without reservation and with profound conviction” 直言應深信受 and “Your own incompetence leads you to blame me for stifling your voice” 子不能，且反責予不許爾縱論也, which Wang perceived as domineering. Wang further justified his deviation from his teacher’s teachings in proposing alternative interpretations by invoking the Buddhist principle of “following the Dharma, not the person,” “how could I presume to slight my teacher” 依法不依人，豈敢慢師也？ underscoring that his dissent did not signify disrespect but rather reflected a principled commitment to the intellectual autonomy inherent in Buddhist discourse. His decision to “not concur hastily” 不敢苟同 reflected not arrogance, but sincere adherence to the integrity of the Dharma.

In response to Wang’s statement in his reply letter—“Master, given your advanced age and virtuous qualities, you can surely instruct through your superior insight and wisdom” 師耆年長德，誠能趨言知以為教,—Ouyang added in the margin, “This is an attempt to silence me” 禁我不准開口! He further interpreted Wang’s hope that Ouyang might “embody Prajñā wisdom and take it as his intrinsic nature” 體《般若》以為心 as a veiled injunction to “study the Prajñāpāramitā Sūtras!” This reflected Ouyang’s perception that Wang’s remarks subtly criticized his strict adherence to Yogācāra philosophy. When Wang mentioned, “if I have committed any transgressions” 苟其有罪, Ouyang noted in the margin, “Is repentance not part of the Dharma” 懺法非法歟?—implying that Wang’s words and actions constituted serious transgressions requiring thorough atonement.3

On 28 February, nearly two months later, Ouyang penned another reply, in which he once again criticized Wang for being “confined to a narrow perspective” 拘守一隅 and “blocking the channels of discourse” 杜絕言路. He argued that Wang’s excessive insistence on defining “dharma-laksana” (法相) solely through the lens of “phenomena arising from dependent origination” 因緣所生法 constituted a fundamental misunderstanding of the Dharma-laksana School. Ouyang wrote:

徒以因緣所生法談相，則是不遍一切之相，此不遍處不談，而談推，狡哉！故曰拘守一隅也。

If one discusses “laksana” (characteristics/manifestations) exclusively in terms of “phenomena arising from the confluence of causes and conditions,” this effectively restricts “laksana” to a subset of phenomena, failing to encompass all dharmas. By avoiding the proper discourse while diverting attention elsewhere, one engages in equivocation! Thus, such an approach merely confines oneself to a narrow corner.

He further emphasized that “dharma-laksana” is not merely a synonym for “phenomena arising from dependent origination,” but rather a structural description of all dharmas. Limiting “dharma-laksana” solely to “dependent origination”—while neglecting discussions of tathatā (suchness/真如) or tathāgatagarbha (Buddha-nature/如來藏)—would result in intellectual parochialism. In his reply, Ouyang even employed the term “cunningly narrow-minded!” 狡哉 to characterize Wang’s myopic views, adopting an exceptionally severe tone.

In his reply, Ouyang reiterated that the Faxiang School (Dharma-laksana School/法相宗) must “expand and generalize its scope” 推而廣之 and should not remain rigidly confined to the Yogācāra perspective. Drawing on the doctrinal development of Xuanzang and his disciples as a precedent, he observed that although Xuanzang’s early scholarship exhibited certain limitations, he subsequently inherited and advanced Mahāyāna Buddhism, ultimately establishing a comprehensive Yogācāra system. Drawing on this precedent, Ouyang argued: “Now that we possess Master Xuanzang’s translations and expositions, should we not unfold our discussion to encompass all dharmas and phenomena, rather than persist in clinging to a narrow corner?” 今經奘師後，不當推所論事事法法，不守一隅耶？ He further asserted: “The Mahāyāna Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra 密嚴經 and the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra 楞伽經 teach the gate of purity, the Tathāgatagarbha…Since these scriptures have long served as our authoritative texts, ought we not to interpret and propagate their teachings, instead of confining ourselves to a limited corner?” 《密嚴》《楞伽》屬淨分，曰如來藏……皆是所遵之經……不應推而廣之而唯守於一隅耶？ Ouyang clarified that Yogācāra does not exclude Tathāgatagarbha, and the two should not be construed as mutually exclusive or antagonistic. His intellectual project sought to construct a unified framework in which “Yogācāra constitutes the Buddha-realm, and the Buddha-realm is the Tathāgatagarbha” 唯識即佛境，佛境即如來藏, thereby offering a reinterpretation of traditional Yogācāra orthodoxy.4

Subsequently, Ouyang and Wang appear to have continued their correspondence, but in the collection of letters that Ouyang transcribed for Chen Mingshu and others, only one reply—very likely authored by Wang on 2 February 1942—was preserved. This letter contains Wang’s explicit criticisms and open expression of doctrinal disagreement with Ouyang, articulated in at times strikingly vehement terms. The letter opens with the assertion: “The entirety of the Master’s later teaching has been laid out above; and here, one can see with complete clarity the points where my thought diverges from yours” 吾師老來思想具見於此，其與洋思想不同處亦具見於此. It continues: “an examination of the Master’s scholarly development reveals repeated shifts over the course of his life” 考師之學，一生多變. Wang then proceeds to analyze, in detail, the shifts in Ouyang’s Buddhist teaching and thoughts, ultimately concluding that these transformations were, in his view, inconsistent, vacillating, and even contradictory. Thus, while Wang’s remarks are framed as descriptive, they are in fact implicitly critical, suggesting that Ouyang would “gain certain insights, only to abandon them shortly thereafter” 隨得隨捨, thereby revealing a lack of consistency or stable commitment.5

The most direct and severe criticism in the letter states: “I have come to realize profoundly that the Master have confused ‘principle’ (li, 理) with ‘phenomena’ (shi, 事), producing a state of disorder and obscurity; moreover, the Master even engaged in heated debate with others on this account. This, indeed, is a most serious fault” 洋深覺師之亂理於事者，曾大起辨論，得罪無窮. The charge of “mixing principle with phenomena” represents a highly serious reproach within the doctrinal context.

Finally, Wang expresses an explicit and irreversible rupture in the teacher–disciple relationship:

師謂洋為負固不服，又謂洋執一隅之說，又謂不能引助而反引敵，是已外洋而敵視之。洋之與師，終分不可合矣！

The Master reproaches me for obstinacy and refusal to yield, censures me for adhering stubbornly to a parochial view, and asserts that I not only fail to be of assistance but in fact open the gate to adversaries. By these words I am already regarded as an outsider, indeed as an enemy. Henceforth master and disciple must travel separate roads; no possibility of reconciliation remains.6

In this letter, Wang’s language no longer retains the tone of tempered academic debate; it reflects instead a decisive and public break in intellectual and personal allegiance. He regarded Ouyang’s late thought as self-contradictory, misleading to his disciples, and misguided in its targets of criticism, while presenting his own position as an alternative framework entirely incompatible with Ouyang’s.

For several decades, Wang Enyang had served as Ouyang Jingwu’s closest disciple, regarded by Ouyang as his indispensable “right and left arm.” Thus, when faced with Wang’s sharp criticisms, Ouyang—though deeply grieved and indignant—still attempted to rebuke him sternly in the hope of bringing him back. Yet the debates ultimately failed to alter Wang’s intellectual position; on the contrary, they precipitated the final rupture between master and disciple.

The later years of Ouyang’s life present a particularly poignant picture. In 1940, at the age of seventy, Ouyang lost his wife in June and his son—executed in Chongqing—a month later. With his closest kin thus gone, Ouyang found himself utterly alone. To suffer, at this very juncture, the irreparable break with the disciple he trusted most, only deepened the anguish of his final years.

Faced with this stalemate, Ouyang turned to his disciples for mediation. In a letter to Chen Mingshu on 23 March 1942, he observed that “only four men (Mei, Li, Lv, and Chen) can still speak with reason” 止有四人（梅、李、呂、陳），能說得出幾句道理話 (CMS, p. 5)—namely, Mei Guangxi 梅擷芸, Li Yizhuo 李翊灼 (1881–1952), Lv Cheng, and Chen himself. The discussion here centers on Chen.

3. Chen Mingshu’s Role as Mediator

Chen Mingshu, styled Zhenru 真如 and later self-styled Yiyuan 一緣, was a prominent military and political figure who early in life joined Sun Yat-sen 孫中山 (1866–1925) in the democratic revolution. He later served successively as Chairman of the Guangdong Provincial Government and, for a brief period, Acting President of the Executive Yuan of the Nationalist Government. Parallel to his political career, Chen maintained a sustained engagement with Buddhism. Initially he studied under Gui Bohua 桂伯華 (1861–1915); after Gui’s death, he became a close disciple of Ouyang, spending an entire year in the Research Department of the Jinling Buddhist Canon Printing House. In the autumn of 1922, already a regimental commander, Chen returned to Nanjing to attend Ouyang’s lectures on A Critical Examination of Yogācāra (Weishi jueze tan 唯識抉擇談), remaining there for more than two months. Following his rise in the military and political arena—leading campaigns across China—Chen held a series of high offices. After the “Mukden Incident” of 1931, when Chiang Kai-shek 蔣介石 (1887–1975) briefly stepped down and the National Government was reorganized under Lin Sen 林森 (1868–1943), Chen was appointed Vice President of the Executive Yuan and Minister of Communications, at one point even acting as Premier. During the war against Japan, however, his opposition to Chiang effectively forced him into political retirement. Residing in Sichuan, he renewed close ties with Ouyang, and in 1939 the two jointly published a critique of Xiong Shili.

These long-standing intellectual and personal bonds made Chen not only one of Ouyang’s most trusted disciples but also the most authoritative among them by virtue of his political stature. It was thus to Chen that Ouyang turned for mediation when confronted with Wang Enyang’s accusations and the subsequent rupture in master–disciple relations.

It was most likely in the aftermath of Wang Enyang’s letter of irrevocable rupture, dated 2 February 1942, that Ouyang wrote to Chen. Along with this letter, Ouyang enclosed three pieces of their prior correspondence, carefully selected from the exchanges he had maintained with Wang during the preceding two years. In his letter to Chen, Ouyang set out what he regarded as Wang’s principal failings, which he summarized under five points:

一不知契實相之地位是初地，而自儕初地，則龍樹、無著亦不過初地。我輩龍樹、無著弟子，而曉曉置言歟？

First, Wang erroneously equates genuine realization of ultimate reality—the attainment traditionally assigned to the first-ground bodhisattva stage (prathamā bhūmi, 初地菩薩)—with his own present level of understanding, thereby implicitly situating even Nāgārjuna 龍樹 and Asaṅga 無著 at this initial stage. If this is the case, those of us who consider ourselves their disciples have no justification for ostentatiously displaying our own attainments.

二心粗，略知唯識道理而不能用，不能以唯識之一法界中皆是無邊有情充塞，遂看成一法界是空無物。此皆大毛病，毒中於此。

Second, Wang’s understanding of Yogācāra remains rudimentary. Although he has a superficial familiarity with Yogācāra doctrines, he fails to apply them effectively. He does not recognize that the “single Dharma-realm” (yifajie, 一法界) described in Yogācāra is pervaded by innumerable, living sentient beings, instead treating it as an empty void. These constitute foundational errors, rooted in a deeply ingrained misunderstanding.

三自視是初地，出語即是，不肯鑽研，故凡事皆以此態處之。乃至有人談“一法界”，談《法華》《涅槃》，莫不皆然。是以一聞一法界語，《法華》《涅槃》語，即謂之為台、賢來也。夫佛說教，明明有《法華》《涅槃》，而可不理哉？即必理會，而可不談“一法界”哉？所貴在以唯識“一法界”談，自是口魔得實也，而彼不知也。

Third, believing himself to have reached the first-ground stage, Wang proclaims his own statements as definitive and refuses further inquiry. Consequently, any mention of the “single Dharma-realm” or of the Lotus sūtra and Nirvāṇa sūtra is immediately taken as capitulation to Tiantai or Huayan. Yet the Buddhist canon explicitly includes these sūtras; they cannot be ignored. The imperative is to interpret the “single Dharma-realm” strictly within Yogācāra parameters, thereby refuting heterodoxy and establishing orthodoxy—yet Wang fails to grasp this.

四不肯認錯，如彼解法相之偏，以《百法明門》之真如法，破其但以因緣所生法賅法相之誤。彼則避開不理，而單說人，投降台、賢，非不畏聖人之言而何？我們教下全恃聖言量，所謂道理阿含，辨立之要，而棄不理，佛亦無如之何矣。

Fourth, Wang will not acknowledge error. When he advanced a one-sided definition of dharma-lakṣaṇa, I invoked the Śata-dharmāvatāra-mukha-śāstra’s 百法明門論 exposition of tathatā, demonstrating that restricting dharma-lakṣaṇa to “dharmas produced by causes and conditions” is untenable. He evaded the point, insisting that I had “surrendered to Tiantai and Huayan,” thereby openly disregarding the authority of the sages. Our lineage grounds itself exclusively in the sages’ own words: “the principles of Buddhism are recorded in the Āgamas; doctrinal argument and sectarian establishment must take these as their root.” Wang ignores even this; even the Buddha’s guidance could not correct him.

五潰厥防閑，無復忌憚。輕於分析，止知做人法師。

Fifth, without restraint, he treats the Dharma arbitrarily, seeking merely to distinguish himself as a “human-and-heavenly Dharma-master.”

Concluding the letter, Ouyang places Wang in the same problematic category as Taixu, yet draws a sharp distinction: “When Taixu speaks in this manner, it is not surprising, and we need not pay him any heed; but if even Enyang now falls into the same error, then I must urge you all to bring him back without fail!” 太虛如是說，無怪，不睬他。恩洋亦然，則諸君須救之也! In effect, what he was calling for was that Chen Mingshu and others intervene to mediate and restore harmony.7

Upon receiving Ouyang’s letter, Chen promptly composed a lengthy reply of nearly five thousand characters to Wang Enyang. He began by noting in direct terms that Wang’s words and conduct had left Ouyang “utterly heartbroken” 傷心已極, such that “I myself could no longer remain silent” 使弟不能默爾. Chen then stressed that the revival of Buddhism since the late Qing had been due above all to the contributions of Yang Renshan 楊仁山 (1837–1911) and Ouyang, and that among Ouyang’s disciples, Wang and Lv Cheng had rendered the most significant service—hence Ouyang regarded them as his indispensable “right and left arms” 師倚之如左右臂. It was therefore unanticipated that “you, elder brother, would commit an act so grievous as to make the Master suffer” 兄更有使師難堪之舉也.

In particular, Chen criticized the tone of Wang’s correspondence with Ouyang as gravely inappropriate:

兄書避開題目不談，而其中詞意，使我目眩手顫，幾乎不能終讀。除上下款不失師弟稱呼外，全文簡直不知何人向何人教訓之詞。蓋一種傲慢負氣而冷諷之情，咄咄逼人，任何旁觀者均為動憤。

The substantive issues raised in your letter I will, for the moment, set aside. But the tone and manner pervading your words left me so disoriented and agitated that I could scarcely finish reading. With the exception of the conventional address at the opening and closing—“Master” and “disciple”—the body of the text gives no indication who is admonishing whom. Line after line is marked by arrogance, petulance, and sarcastic disparagement, pressing relentlessly upon its recipient. Any impartial observer, upon reading, would be indignant.

Chen went on to remark: “Your third letter was even more egregious: your attitude toward the Master has shifted from complaint to resentment, from arrogance to deceit. You have even willfully distorted the Master’s words, and proceeded further to spread slander and calumny” 更變本加厲，由怨懟進而為忿恨，由傲慢進而為誑罔。且故意歪曲師言，以進其誣訐.8 It is important to note that Chen’s criticism here does not merely concern the rhetorical devices employed in Wang’s letters but points to what he regarded as Wang’s underlying disposition. Evidence for this may be found in another letter, likely written around the same time to Lv Cheng, in which Chen observed:

化中諸函，其一種浮俗武斷，狂妄謗毀，連文字亦無一些學人氣息，令人心頭作十日惡。十餘年來，以佛子自命，為人講師，竟如是耶！

The several letters that Huazhong 化中—Wang Enyang’s courtesy name—addressed to the Master abound in bombastic assertions, rash judgments, and vitriolic denigrations. They bear not the slightest trace of scholarly refinement, and upon reading them one is left with a deep sense of distress for ten days or more. For over a decade he has styled himself a disciple of the Dharma and has traveled widely to lecture on the teachings, yet he could bring himself to write such words!9

In his reply, Chen further underscores that, despite Wang Enyang’s discourtesy and arrogance, Ouyang Jingwu’s response remained one of patient instruction and gentle admonition:

然反觀師復書，仍諄諄發揮前義，全以法為重，對兄之無禮不置一詞。

If one examines the Master’s reply once more, one finds that he reiterates his original position with the same measured and gentle instruction, concerned solely with the integrity of the Dharma. For your discourtesy, he offers not a single word of censure.

After censuring Wang Enyang for his lack of respect toward his teacher, Chen Mingshu turned to a critique of Wang’s manifold errors in Buddhist learning. His criticisms focus primarily on the following four points:

(1) The Concept of Dharma-lakṣaṇa. Chen argued that dharma-lakṣaṇa is not confined solely to conditioned dharmas (saṃskṛta-dharmas, 有為法); rather, unconditioned dharmas (asaṃskṛta-dharmas, 無為法), which stand in opposition to conditioned ones, equally fall within the purview of Dharma-lakṣaṇa. He criticized Wang for failing to make this distinction clear, for deliberately evading the issue, and even for responding with the dismissive remark that “there is no way to explain this to the Master,” while further ridiculing the Master as one whose knowledge of Buddhism consisted of “excessive subjective interpretations.”

(2) The issue of the Bodhisattva’s reception of sentient beings. Chen sharply criticized Wang for interpreting “the bodhisattva embraces sentient beings as an integrated whole” 菩薩攝受有情為一體 the “existence of a concrete act of embracing” 實有攝受, while rejecting the fundamental teaching that “sentient beings are intrinsically one” 有情本來為一體. Chen remarked: “If one speaks of real sentient beings and real Bodhisattvas, are they identical or distinct? … Only by understanding it in this way can one avoid the empty and fruitless sophistries of ‘simultaneously one and different’ or ‘neither one nor different’” 若有實有情實菩薩，請問為一為異？……必如是，方離一異俱不俱等戲論之過也. He denounced Wang with striking severity: “Brother, your afflictions are profoundly entrenched” 兄魔障深矣, even asserting that “what you cherish in your mind are in fact countless demons” 憧憬於心目者，實無數之魔鬼, deploying sharp language to convey his deep concern over the trajectory of Wang’s Buddhist scholarship.

(3) Other Schools and Canonical Texts. Chen argued that Wang’s interpretations of the “fragmented and generalized doctrines of the Tiantai and Huayan schools, as well as the Awakening of Faith 大乘起信論 and Lankavatara Sūtra 楞嚴經,” were profoundly unreasonable. He noted that Wang simultaneously accused Ouyang of “upholding principle while neglecting practice” and criticized the Tiantai and Huayan schools for “upholding practice while neglecting principle,” wielding “the sword of principle” in his left hand and “the dagger of practice” in his right—a self-contradictory internal maneuver. Chen remarked:

兄今圖左手操理之利劍，以攻賢、台之執事；右手握事之剛刀，以斫師之執理。

Brother, you now grasp the sword of principle in your left hand to strike at the Tiantai and Huayan schools for their emphasis on practice, while wielding the dagger of practice in your right to attack the Master for his emphasis on principle.

Chen contended that such critique exposed Wang’s inability to construct a coherent philosophical system, reducing his arguments to emotionally charged attacks lacking theoretical substance. He further criticized Wang’s dismissive stance as excessively one-sided, emphasizing that it failed to recognize the indispensable contributions of these schools and texts to the historical development of Buddhist thought.

(4) Meditative Practice and Insight. In his letter severing ties with Ouyang, Wang claimed, “During my secluded retreat at Wulongtan 五龍潭, I attained immediate intuitive realization of ultimate reality across the highest doctrines of Yogācāra, Prajñāpāramitā, and even Chan Buddhism; my mind became utterly luminous, perceiving all things with perfect clarity” 游烏龍潭，契實相於瑜伽、般若，若禪宗勝義，洞然了澈. Chen argued that this constituted a self-proclaimed enlightenment, accusing Wang of “publicly assuming the guise of a great bodhisattva or sage, thereby placing himself above his own revered mentor of over a decade who had nurtured him in the Dharma” 公然以大菩薩、聖人的面孔，臨諸自己十餘年來沐教浴法之親教師矣.

Finally, Chen urged Wang to “repent wholeheartedly, purge all arrogance and frivolity, and immediately return to the Master to offer sincere contrition” 翻然悔過，一掃自己之驕矜與浮氣，立即返投師前痛懺.10

Chen’s letter produced an immediate effect. On 26 February, Wang replied to Chen, acknowledging that Chen’s correspondence had been “fierce as a Vajra’s glare, with righteous indignation vividly displayed, laying bare his sincerity in its entirety” 金剛怒目，義形於色，肝膽肺腸，全盤捧出. He further expressed his intention to “engage in self-reflection before my revered master” 向恩師自省, emphasizing that “Enyang has remained, from beginning to end, a disciple of Ouyang” 恩洋自始至終，為歐陽竟無之弟子. Concurrently, Wang also wrote to Ouyang, stating that Chen’s letter had left him “with a palpitating heart, stirring profound remorse” 五內怦怦，發起無上慚愧, and that upon “re-reading my master’s previous teachings, I feel even more deeply the depth of his compassion for me, as well as the severity of my own discourtesy” 復讀前教，益感師愛我之深，並弟子無禮之甚. He concluded with the hope that “the Master might ultimately not resent or abandon me” 夫子終不怒我舍我也.11

Wang’s letter to Ouyang was subsequently regarded by the latter as a “letter of repentance” 悔過書.12 On 27 February, Wang also wrote to Chen, expressing contrition: “Reflecting on my actions at home last year, I am filled with such profound shame that I can scarcely bear it” 去歲在家行事，至今思之，內愧幾無以自容, and “I must rid myself of my attachments; if they remain, how can I truly cultivate the conduct of a bodhisattva” 要去其執我，我所執不去，難夫修大士行矣?13 Enclosed with this correspondence was his Letter to My Revered Teacher 上親教師函 addressed to Ouyang, in which he offered a deep and earnest confession of his prior disrespectful behavior.14

In early March, Chen forwarded his recent correspondence with Wang to Ouyang, simultaneously attempting to mediate the strained relations between Ouyang and Wang by imploring, “I earnestly beseech my Master to exercise supreme compassion and take pity on his ignorance” 萬乞我師發無上之慈悲，哀憫其愚昧.15 On the 23rd, Ouyang Jingwu replied, enclosing letters exchanged between Mei Xieyun, Li Yizhuo, and others with Wang for Chen’s perusal. In his response, Ouyang lamented:

我法願弘而光大。才萌嫩芽，而即有怪妄如王恩洋者，故出過而譭謗誣衊之。止有四人（梅、李、呂、陳），能說得出幾句道理話。應護教而說，非為漸。漸何足云？

I hope for the flourishing of the Dharma. Just as the grand enterprise of Buddhist propagation begins to show signs of vitality, aberrant figures like Wang Enyang emerge—deliberately acting in defiance, slandering and defaming eminent Dharma masters. At present, only the four of you (Mei, Li, Lv, and Chen) are capable of articulating reasoned discourse. Yet your words are spoken to uphold the Dharma, not for the sake of Ouyang Jian [himself]. As for my own person, it is utterly insignificant.16

On 18 April, Chen replied to Wang, encouraging him to “redouble your efforts and remain diligent. You must write frequently to the Master to convey your regards. The lineage of Shenliu [i.e., Yang Renshan] and Yihuang [i.e., Ouyang Jingwu] will inevitably flourish because of your endeavors” 勤加督策。大師前更頻函候，深柳（即杨仁山）、宜黃（即欧阳竟无）一脈，得兄光大無疑.17 On the 31st, Wang responded, reporting on his ongoing communications with Ouyang and noting that “I have already conveyed my regards to the Master multiple times; please do not worry” 大師處音問往復已數度，幸無念. Under the guidance and pressure of Chen and the others, Wang demonstrated genuine sincerity. Reflecting this, on 21 April Mei Xieyun wrote to Chen, observing: “Not only has Brother Huazhong restored harmonious relations with the venerable Master within the lineage, but his doctrinal views have also come into alignment—truly a matter of great satisfaction” 不但化中兄以後對於歐陽老居士師弟之間感情融洽如初，即學說亦歸於一致矣，殊可喜也.18

During this period, Wang Enyang did, in fact, repeatedly express his remorse to Ouyang Jingwu. In his letter to Chen Mingshu dated April 17th, Ouyang remarked:

恩洋來《悔過書》抄份寄弟，並與梅、李一閱。過如能改，是無過矣。子之益之，乃收效如是，我不如子。我止能啟過，子則能令人悔過也。雖然學之知見實難，我意欲恩洋知見不宥，不知能償願否?

Enyang has sent his “Letter of Repentance,” a copy of which I have transcribed for you, and I have also asked Mei and Li to review it. As long as one is willing to reform, past transgressions cease to define them. Your ability to guide him toward such profound self-correction far surpasses my own: I can merely identify errors, whereas you inspire genuine repentance. Nevertheless, rectifying doctrinal misconceptions remains an arduous task; my sole aspiration is for Enyang to transcend dogmatic fixations and abandon narrow-minded adherence to partial truths—though whether this hope may be realized remains uncertain.19

Nevertheless, Ouyang’s correspondence reveals lingering doubts regarding whether Wang could achieve genuine repentance or whether the master-disciple relationship might be fully restored. These uncertainties intersected with Ouyang’s complex relationship with Xiong Shili. Yet, Ouyang had made concerted efforts to set aside personal grievances, as evidenced by his continued practice of sending newly published works to Wang. In his subsequent reply, Chen analyzed Wang’s situation for Ouyang, noting that Wang fundamentally differed from Xiong, whom he described as “resisting even the slightest constructive criticism” 不易進規一言半語 and for whom “admonishment would be futile” 規之亦無益, owing to an “innate disposition irreconcilably distant from Buddhahood” 蓋彼離佛種性太遠故也. By contrast, Chen asserted, “Huazhong is not so; his innate disposition is closer to Buddhahood” 化中則不然，其種性本近, and he has “always prioritized spiritual practice” 素講實踐. He attributed Wang’s recent transgressions against his master to “insufficient doctrinal comprehension, reluctance to engage in rigorous study, and premature engagement in public teaching, which together culminated in this grave error toward his teacher” 徒以知解未到，不求深入，見世不多，而出世過早，致有此次對師之大謬耳. Chen further counseled:

茲既翻然悔悟，將進而省檢其出內院以來之講說，及放棄其心中之挾恃，叩心刻骨，回頭再做深造工夫。樞又料其必不辜慈望者，望師寬懷，拭目以俟可也。

Now that he has demonstrated sincere remorse, he intends to thoroughly reflect on all his teachings since departing from the Inner College, relinquish all entrenched prejudices, and commit himself to renewed, diligent study. I am confident that he will not disappoint the Master’s compassionate expectations. I therefore entreat the Master to ease his concerns and await the positive outcomes with patience.20

4. Wang Enyang and the Ouyang Jingwu Lineage Following Repentance: Reconciliation and Discipleship Reaffirmed

It may be argued that Chen Mingshu and his associates endeavored to create buffer zones—political, academic, and affective—to mitigate the ideological tensions between master and disciple, thereby preventing the rupture of their institutional and spiritual alliance. Empirically, their mediation succeeded in partially restoring the master-disciple relationship: Wang continued to identify publicly as Ouyang’s disciple. In the winter of 1942, Wang engaged in prolonged nocturnal discussions with Ouyang at the Inner College. Following Ouyang’s death in February of the subsequent year, Wang participated fully in the funeral rites, serving on the seven-member mourning committee organized by the Inner College. On 10 March, he composed In Commemoration of My Revered Teacher 追念親教大師, lauding Ouyang’s scholarly and spiritual legacy. In this eulogy, Wang reflected on their relationship since October 1940:

三年以來，師不但欲小子玉成，更期觀行得助，復以違緣，不成其願。洋之愚戇，罪已深矣。師猶諒其誠愨，終不捨棄，數數教誨開其愚頑。

Over the past three years, the Master endeavored not only to refine me—a stubborn stone—into a vessel of wisdom but also to nurture my spiritual practice. Yet, due to adverse circumstances and obstacles, his aspirations were never fully realized. Despite my obtuseness and waywardness, accumulating grave transgressions, the Master, recognizing my sincerity, never abandoned me. Time and again, he imparted teachings to dispel my ignorance.

Wang further vowed adherence to the Dharma:

可不戰戰兢兢謹守矩鑊，宏法利生以報師恩于萬一？

How could I dare but tread with utmost caution, rigorously observing the precepts, and dedicate myself to propagating the teachings for the benefit of all sentient beings—thus repaying, even partially, the Master’s boundless compassion?

(See Wang 2001, vol. 10, pp. 634–35)

Interpersonal ties between teacher and disciple could, at least on the surface, be mended within a relatively short span of time, but intellectual transformation did not proceed with equal rapidity. In particular, Wang’s persistent reservations about many of Ouyang’s positions were rooted in a system of thought that drew upon his own understanding of Buddhism, as well as Confucianism, Western philosophy, and the sciences. This intellectual framework, coherent in Wang’s own estimation, could not easily be overturned by the polemics of Ouyang, Chen, or others. Indeed, in the “letters of repentance” he addressed to Ouyang and Chen, Wang confined his contrition to acknowledging the impropriety of his personal conduct toward his teacher. On the substantive doctrinal critiques leveled against him, however, he maintained silence. Such silence, in fact, was consistent with what he had already written to Ouyang in his earliest letters: that he had “uncertain what to say in my reply”—a gesture that betrayed not acceptance but rather his continuing resistance.

On 24 June 1942, four months after Wang’s letters of repentance, Chen wrote to Ouyang in evident frustration: “Huazhong remains utterly tiresome; he still clings to his own positions. As you have previously observed, although in his long letters to me he professed repentance and acknowledged fault before you, he was only convinced emotionally, not rationally” 化中太無聊，仍執其說，誠如師言，彼前復弟子長函，雖表示懺悔，並向師認罪，然僅情服耳，非理服也.21 In a letter to Lv Cheng on 4 May 1943, Chen recalled the episode once again, stating, “I now recall that Huazhong repeatedly wrote letters attacking me last year” 弟複記起化中去年屢函反擊我, and “As he remained unenlightened in the end, I terminated the debate” 當時以彼終不悟，乃結束論端. He further hoped that Lv could write an essay or deliver a speech to “enlighten the deluded” 開悟迷者, with the “deluded” referring to Wang.22

In February 1944, on the occasion of the first anniversary of Ouyang’s passing, his disciples and followers gathered at the Inner College, with the sole exception of Wang. Prior to this commemoration, the 1 February issue of Hai Chao Yin 海潮音 (Vol. 25, no. 2) published Wang’s review, “Reflections on Reading Buddhism in India” 讀《印度之佛教》書感, of Yin Shun’s work Buddhism in India 印度之佛教. In this essay, Wang expressed strong appreciation for many of Yin Shun’s arguments while subjecting notions such as the “Tathāgatagarbha Dharma-kāya Consciousness Nature” to rigorous critique. He argued that such views amounted to a form of “Absolute Idealism” 真常唯心論, which, in his judgment, “clearly contravened the Buddha’s seals of impermanence (anitya) and non-self (anātman), thereby positioning itself as the orthodox heir to the tradition” 顯違我佛諸行無常、諸法無我之印，而入主法座，纂承正統 (See Wang 2001, vol. 2, pp. 325–37). Although the review did not explicitly identify the proponent of these ideas, it was widely recognized in contemporary intellectual circles that Wang’s critique was directed at Ouyang Jingwu. Moreover, the critique struck at the very foundations of Ouyang’s philosophical system.

Other disciples were deeply aggrieved by Wang Enyang’s absence from the anniversary commemoration and by his decision, on that very occasion, to publish critical remarks concerning their master’s teachings. On 15 February, Lv Cheng addressed a letter to Wang, remarking: “At the first anniversary of our late master, all fellow disciples gathered together—only you were absent. A single fallen leaf presages autumn—how disheartening this is!” 先師周年會祭，同門俱至，獨缺吾兄。一葉知秋，令人於唈！ Turning then to Wang’s review, Lv confessed that he read it “with profound sorrow” 益覺痛心, for in his judgment Wang’s arguments amounted to “an uncritical acceptance of the unfounded claims of a younger scholar” 輕信後生無稽之談. More gravely, Wang had treated Ouyang’s late-life positions—specifically, the doctrine of the Tathāgatagarbha as the source of both wholesome and unwholesome causes, and the idea that “the mind-nature is originally pure, though temporarily obscured by adventitious defilements” 心性本淨，客塵所染—as if they were the spurious doctrines of heterodox outsiders illegitimately usurping orthodoxy.23 Yet these very points constituted the central tenets of Ouyang’s philosophical system and were foundational to his reinterpretation of the entirety of Buddhist thought. On 26 February, Lv also wrote to Chen, remarking: “I received Huazhong’s recent work yesterday. As anticipated, it represents a fundamental repudiation of the Inner College’s foundations. I have already dispatched a letter to question him on this matter” 昨得化中近作，閱之果不出所料，對於院學根本推翻，已去一函質問.24

5. Conclusions

This paper draws upon newly discovered letters to shed fresh light on the evolution of the relationship between Ouyang Jingwu and his prominent disciple Wang Enyang after 1940. After the rupture of their relationship, both Ouyang and disciples such as Chen Mingshu and Lv Cheng either issued stern rebukes or offered gentle exhortations to Wang, hoping that he would engage in profound self-reflection and reintegrate into their master’s school. These efforts were driven, on the one hand, by the bonds of affection within the master–disciple lineage, and on the other, by the circumstances surrounding the development of Ouyang’s school in the Buddhist educational sphere at that time.

Although Ouyang and Taixu were both recognized as towering figures in Buddhist studies during the Republic of China, their influence differed markedly. Ouyang emphasized Buddhist scholarship and doctrinal studies, seeking to elevate Buddhism’s academic standing and social impact through scholarly and doctrinal approaches. Consequently, while his school produced many renowned scholars, its social reach remained limited, far surpassed by Taixu, who advanced the concept of “Humanistic Buddhism” and promoted the socialization and modernization of the tradition.25 Moreover, Ouyang’s school engaged in major debates with scholars such as Xiong Shili and Taixu26, often finding itself isolated within academic circles. Therefore, when confronted with internal fractures in the master–disciple lineage, preserving unity within the school became a primary concern for Ouyang and disciples like Lv and Chen as they sought to mend the relationship.

In early March 1942, at the outset of reconciliation efforts, Chen wrote to Ouyang, pleading, “I earnestly beseech my Master to exercise supreme compassion and take pity on his ignorance,” and urging that Wang’s letters of severance and other correspondence not be made public, so as to “avoid making it difficult for him to face others” 暫時不宣於外發表各文，免使伊難見人.27 In February 1944, Lv disclosed his intentions in a letter to Chen: “The school is in decline, which is deeply disheartening to contemplate. Let us exhort one another with renewed effort” 師門寥落，思之堪悲，願吾儕努力交勉耳.28 In December of the same year, Chen wrote to Lv, expressing the hope that Lv might “have a sincere conversation with Huazhong, which would be a great boon for our cause. I eagerly await good news” 與化中兄懇切一談，固吾道之幸也。靜待好音，不勝懸盼.29

Finally, it must be candidly acknowledged that, as one external review expert pointed out, this paper primarily draws on the letters preserved by Chen, which undoubtedly criticize Wang from Ouyang’s standpoint. As for Wang’s thoughts, especially those after Ouyang’s passing, we currently lack high-quality materials for analysis. This, to a certain extent, hinders a more comprehensive and balanced presentation of the teacher-student relationship between the two. It is hoped that more suitable materials can be found in the future to remedy this deficiency.