This is a record of an interview with Li Miaoru, a spirit from the Tang Dynasty who sought Spiritual Deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Buddhist Centre in Australia. She now resides in the Western Land of Nature. This account reflects upon her life approximately 1,300 years ago. Recorded by the chief writer, Fa Ning, on February 25, 2026.
Li Miaoru speaks:
". I am Li Miaoru. I was born into a prominent family of high-ranking officials. When I reached the age of marriage, I was sent far from home. My father was a trusted minister under the Emperor, and to ensure the stability of the border regions, he arranged for me to marry into a family of military generals. As a devoted and loyal minister, my father could not defy the Emperor's decree. Thus, before I had even turned fifteen, I was married off to a young general stationed on the remote northwestern plateau, a man named Wu Haofang."
A Tang Dynasty Upbringing
"I lived during the early Tang Dynasty, during the reign of Emperor Taizong, a time when our nation reached its zenith. I was the second daughter in the family. My elder brother had already followed in our father's footsteps to serve in the imperial court, while my younger siblings were diligently pursuing their own studies. I was the unremarkable daughter of the household. Although I was raised with the Four Books and Five Classics, and trained in the arts of the zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting, I never harboured ambitions for the political life of the court. I did not concern myself with the grand affairs of state, and this was not merely because I was a woman.
"My father was a remarkably enlightened man. While his expectations for his sons and daughters differed slightly, he never made us feel inferior to our brothers. He hired two private tutors to teach us, and even allowed the household servants to participate in the lessons. Such equality was truly rare in those days."
The Path of the Dharma
"As I grew older, I developed a deep interest in the Buddha’s teachings. Apart from my grandmother, no one else in the house truly understood the Dharma. This interest made my temperament calm and steady, quite different from the worldly aspirations of my sisters. I found the lessons from our tutors rather uninspiring by comparison. This continued until I was nearly fifteen, when the time came for me to be sent to the northwest. My elder sister had already married into a government family, so I naturally became the one to be wed. I felt a profound sense of peace; I had no expectations and no resistance. Perhaps it was the steady, tranquil character I had cultivated through my early study of the Dharma that allowed me to accept my fate so gracefully.
"On the day of my wedding, I wore Han-style robes adorned with the jewellery and headpieces of the frontier, which made me look quite striking. By then, I no longer possessed the vibrant beauty of my sisters; instead, I had grown into a woman with a gentle, compassionate, and introspective appearance. I left my home quietly. Both my parents and I knew that this departure was likely a final farewell, as the distance was too great for us to ever meet again."
Service and on the Frontier
"When I arrived at the border, the relationship between the Western Regions and the imperial court was stable, and the Silk Road was flourishing. My husband and I lived with mutual respect, though we did not share a deep romantic bond. I was not content to simply be a wife who lived without purpose. The Dharma had given me a calm heart, but it also taught me that one must serve all beings. I knew that working diligently for the people was a manifestation of the Buddha’s spirit—it was an act of compassion and generosity.
"Because of my husband’s status, I had many opportunities to help others. I dedicated myself to improving the lives of the elderly, the weak, and the women and children in the region. Education was not as highly valued in the frontier as it was in the Central Plains; people were far more interested in martial arts. I knew that if the nation were to remain unified and stable, the education of children was paramount. I believed that traditional moral education should be accessible to them from a young age. I submitted proposals to establish more schools where children could learn the Four Books and Five Classics, and I suggested inviting teachers from the Central Plains to serve in our region. This would not only improve local education but also strengthen our cultural ties with the heartland.
"The plan was a success. People rarely knew my name, but they knew that 'Lady Wu' was a kind person who cared for their welfare. I felt that the spirit of the Dharma must be applied to daily life. I nurtured my own compassion, understanding the hardships of the people and the limitations of the frontier. I became, in a sense, a 'living ' to them. When people had troubles, they would come to our home to beat the drums and share their thoughts and requests, and I did my best to serve their needs."
The Statue and the Passage of Time
"I lived a peaceful life until I was sixty-two. I had no children, but I had no regrets; this was the life I had chosen and I was content. My husband, though a military man, was a man of great kindness and tolerance, and he supported my efforts in every way. He was a general respected by all. Since the border was secure, he believed that the livelihood of the people was the most important task of all.
"At the age of sixty-two, I fell ill. My body grew weak, and before long, I passed away. The local people erected a statue of me—a lay practitioner in white robes with a gentle expression. It was inscribed with my title, not my name. After I died, I lingered in the spirit realm, waiting. When the statue was completed, I naturally drifted into it and sat there for a very, very long time. While inside the statue, I knew I should chant the Buddha’s name. Although I did not maintain a constant practice, I chanted intermittently over the centuries, never forgetting that I was a lay practitioner of the Buddha’s teachings.
"As time passed, people gradually forgot me, and I was content in my solitude. Long after, when the new China was established, our region fell under the jurisdiction of Qinghai Province. My statue, having weathered the ages, was dismantled. It was so worn by time that it no longer resembled a human form. My spirit emerged, and I wandered until I attached myself to a small town near Qinghai Lake. I had no particular destination. Although I knew how to chant, I had never made a vow to seek rebirth in the Western Pure Land. When I was alive, I chanted only to calm my mind; I did not understand that to follow the Buddha, one must make a vow. Because my heart had not truly committed, I remained trapped in that space for centuries."
The Golden Light of Deliverance
"Although we lived in a sparsely populated area, there were many spirits there. I could see layers upon layers of beings in the spirit realm. Most were not in the same space as I, but they were all quietly guarding the land. Not long ago, we were suddenly shaken. A golden light shone over the entire Qinghai Lake. The lake became vibrant, and many beings followed the light and departed with incredible speed. I knew this was the Buddha-light. I followed the others toward the light and arrived here, in the Western Land of Dharma Nature.
"This place is not entirely unfamiliar to me. I recognize the lotus flowers, and the holy name 'Namo Amituofo' is one I have known for ages. Yet, the magnificence and dignity of this place are beyond anything I could have imagined. I know I have arrived in the Buddha’s world. My heart is filled with gratitude and . I have also come to know Practitioner Su from Australia. It is through his great efforts in Spiritual Deliverance that he brings Namo Amituofo’s countless manifestations to every corner of the spirit realm to save us. So many beings have been rescued. Many of us had been trapped for centuries, even millennia, and suddenly we were brought into a world of light. Everyone is incredibly excited, knowing we have been saved by the Buddha and brought to a brilliant Buddha-land. Some are even moved to tears, realizing they have finally found the right path."
A Debt of Gratitude
"Namo Amituofo stands tall and majestic, radiating golden light upon us. We rest here in peace. I have learned that Practitioner Su has been travelling back and forth across China to perform these great deliverances. I have seen how his twelve rays of Buddha-light have swept across our region—the deserts, high mountains, lakes, grasslands, and snowfields. The number of beings the Buddha has taken is immeasurable. There are animals, plants, and countless spirits. Even the demon crowds, who were suppressed in the deserts, deep mountains, and high plateaus, have finally been given a chance to leave. This shows how powerful the Buddha-light is; its strength is limitless because it is sustained by compassion. We, the people of China, are deeply grateful to Namo Amituofo and Practitioner Su for everything they have done for us. The Buddha’s compassion is something we can learn to emulate. We continue to chant the name of Namo Amituofo, hoping that one day we may enter the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss and truly walk toward a more perfect life.
"Namo Amituofo."
Li Miaoru
IN THIS COLLECTION
More from Twelve Rays Deliverance to China (Chinese Historical Figures)
