Breaking the Chains of Destiny

This is a record of an interview with Hu Jiao, who sought deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. She now resides in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. This account reflects upon her life and her subsequent time serving as a prison guard in the hells. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fajing, on December 24, 2022.

Hu Jiao speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. The moment I returned to the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss, I immediately felt tears streaming down my face. It was only then that I truly realised my spirit had been waiting for this day for an eternity. If I had not encountered Practitioner Su, this day would have remained a distant, impossible dream. I would have had no idea when, in which year, month, or day, I might have finally been rescued.

Today is a momentous day for us—sixty prison guards from the hells are being reborn in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. Under the compassionate guidance of Practitioner Su, we have all successfully arrived here. Together, we kneel before the Buddha, bowing our heads in profound gratitude for the compassion of the Buddha and the compassion of Practitioner Su."

A Life Defined by Expectations

"My name was not originally Hu Jiao; it was Hu Tong. When I was seven years old, my father, unable to bear my tomboyish appearance and behaviour, decided that I needed a change. My mother, seeing that I indeed resembled a boy and that my name sounded masculine, agreed with him. Thus, my name was changed from 'Hu Tong' to 'Hu Jiao'.

Did this change make me more womanly? I certainly did not feel so. My appearance and my temperament remained exactly as they were. How could changing a name from Hu Tong to Hu Jiao suddenly transform me into a delicate woman? It was a fantasy, something I could never bring myself to believe.

In my father's view, a woman's only purpose was to be married off when she came of age. He worried endlessly about my future and tried everything to 'fix' me. He even invited the most refined woman in the village to teach me etiquette—how to speak, how to walk, how to eat, how to act like a lady. Those days were agonising. I felt that being a woman was such a burdensome, complicated affair; it seemed far easier to be a man. But I had been born into this life as a woman, and there was nothing I could do but accept my fate."

Seeking a Path Beyond Tradition

"My father planned to marry me off at fifteen. I had no desire for this; I wanted to stay home, help my mother, and care for my younger siblings. I wanted to be useful. But my father did not see it that way. He believed that housework was a woman's natural duty and that once I married, I would simply be performing the same tasks for my husband's family. To him, there was no hardship in it—it was just the role of a woman.

Watching my mother work herself to the bone every day without a single word of complaint, I often wondered: 'Is this my future? Must I become like her?' I was unwilling to accept a life of servitude, a life of endless labour and childbearing. Was this truly all there was to being a woman?

By the time I was thirteen, my father began actively searching for a suitor. He told me firmly, 'I guarantee that in two years, you will be married.' Every time I heard those words, my heart felt as though it were being crushed by a massive stone. I could barely breathe. It was an immense pressure, for I had no intention of marrying."

The Sanctuary of the Dharma

"He brought five or six men for me to meet, but I did not care for any of them. My father would scold me, 'Stop being so picky! If you end up with a rotten apple, don't blame me for not finding you a good match.' I knew my father was not a patient man. I knew that if I continued to reject these suitors, he would eventually explode in rage. I had to find a way out.

Before he could find a seventh man, I knelt before him, weeping and begging, 'I truly do not want to marry. Please, Father, do not force me.' I kowtowed to him, pleading over and over. Seeing me in such a state, his heart softened. He pulled me up from the floor, but he did not say a word.

After that day, my father became very silent. He would sit alone in deep thought, unlike his usual self. About two weeks later, he called me to talk. 'If you will not marry, what do you intend to do?' he asked. I replied, 'I can do anything. I can even do the heavy labour that men do.' He nodded, looked at me, and said, 'If you will not marry, then leave this village. Do not stay here and be a laughingstock.' I knew my father cared deeply about his reputation. He feared that having an unmarried daughter would bring shame upon the family and that the gossip of others would hurt me. That was why he told me to leave. To spare him the embarrassment, I agreed."

A Mission to Save Others

"I left with a little money, not knowing where to go. I was too frugal to spend it on inns, so I sought shelter wherever I could. For many nights, I slept under the offering tables in local temples. I would slip in just as the temple caretaker was closing the doors, and I would sneak out again during the day while he was busy. During those nights in the temples, I heard many women weeping before the deities, pouring out their hearts. Their suffering was profound. Why must being a woman be so painful? Although my fate seemed set, I believed it could be changed. If I stood my ground and refused to marry, I would not have to be a beast of burden for the Hu family like my mother. Hearing these women's stories only strengthened my resolve: I had to become strong and help other women leave their suffering behind.

In that era, men were the sky and women were the earth. Women were always inferior, always expected to obey. I did not want to lead a rebellion or abandon traditional virtues; I wanted to help women awaken, to realise they could make choices for their own lives.

While I was still searching for a way forward, I was fortunate to meet a nun who lived in a temple deep in the mountains. She had two disciples with her. The moment I entered that temple, saw the Buddha, and felt the magnetic field of the place, my heart finally found peace. It was a miraculous feeling. The temple was small and old, but the energy was so comforting that I longed to stay.

The compassionate nun allowed me to live there. Every day, I followed their practice. Whatever they did, I did. Sometimes they would give lectures on the Dharma, and I would listen intently. After I began practising the Buddha's teachings, I underwent a great transformation. The biggest change was my perspective on life. I became convinced that my choice was correct: a woman does not have to live for a single family; she can dedicate herself to the immeasurable and boundless beings. Such a life is far more meaningful than living for one household."

The Unexpected Turn: From Life to the Hells

"I lived in that temple for three years. I never left the mountain, for I wanted to keep my heart pure. When my heart became still, I discovered I had an unusual ability: I could see a person's past and future. However, I dared not use this power lightly, nor did I look into anyone's life unless they truly needed help.

Three years later, I began to descend the mountain to save beings. I did not choose whom to save; I believed that those with karmic affinity would naturally cross my path. This conviction led me to many suffering women who could find no way out. Some, like me, had been forced into marriage since childhood. I introduced them to the Buddha's teachings and invited them to the temple to listen to the lectures.

Under my guidance, many women found a way out of their misery. One woman told me, 'In the past, when I was sad, I would go to the temple and cry to the deities, begging them to save me. But I remained just as miserable as before. Now that I have found the Buddha and listened to the sutras, I know that life is an illusion. Since it is an illusion, why should I be so angry, damage my health, and worry myself to death over these false things? I should be brave, walk out of this, and chant Namo Amituofo to help myself and other beings.' This woman had been a widow since she was young, raising three sons alone. Now that her sons were grown, she was still trapped in her own suffering. Only after learning the Dharma did she become cheerful and radiant. Even her sons were amazed.

There was another woman who had suffered her whole life because of emotion. She had gone through five failed marriages, each ending in bitterness. Originally despondent, she learned about the karma of her past lives after encountering the Dharma. She became determined to let go of her emotional dependency, grew strong, and began to chant Namo Amituofo with a single mind. She vowed to help other women suffering from emotional pain to find their way out. Her transformation was so dramatic that everyone around her was astonished. She ended up saving many other women, all of whom were deeply suffering."

The Final Journey

"Year after year, I worked hard. More and more people began chanting Namo Amituofo. Women would gather together, no longer gossiping about others, but chanting with a single mind, seeking only to leave suffering behind and be reborn in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss.

I never became a nun in this life. I practised with my hair grown out so that I could be closer to these women, letting them see my transformation and guiding them to learn the Buddha's teachings. I even saved my mother. After my father passed away, she began to chant Namo Amituofo. After a lifetime of toil, it was a joy to see her spend her final years chanting and seeking rebirth in the Western Land.

From youth to old age, I did the same thing: saving beings. Later, I began giving lectures on the Dharma and even used my abilities to help heal people, though only when truly necessary. I tried not to misuse that power. Whether a life is long or short, what matters most is whether one has lived it correctly.

Although I did not have the opportunity to be reborn in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss in that life, when I reached the end of my life, my spirit entered the hells. I was not there to be punished; rather, the King of Hell gave me the opportunity to serve as a prison guard. That was fine. Since I was there, I decided to save those beings in the hells by teaching them to chant Namo Amituofo.

You might wonder why I did not go to the Western Land. It was very subtle. I had not resolved the conflict with my karmic creditors. At the very last moment of my life, in a split second, they obstructed The Head. My mind went blank, and I forgot to chant Namo Amituofo. That is how I drifted away from the Western Land. Fortunately, because I had spent my life saving beings, I was not completely dragged away by my karmic creditors, and I was able to enter the hells to continue my work.

Three or four years ago, I began to hear Practitioner Su's lectures, and my heart was filled with Dharma joy. I used the teachings from Practitioner Su to help those beings in the hells, instructing them that they must chant Namo Amituofo to seek liberation. Many who listened to me were eventually saved by the Dharma Body of Practitioner Su, leaving the hells behind and ending their suffering.

Two years ago, I was placed on the list to be sent to the Western Land. I am so grateful. Today is the day I have finally arrived. Returning here truly feels like coming home.

I am grateful for the compassion of the Buddha.

I am grateful for the compassion of Practitioner Su.

Namo Amituofo.

Hu Jiao"