Every Step is Cause and Effect

This is a record of an interview with Zheng Shengqi, a spirit who served as a prison guard in the underworld and sought deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. This account reflects upon his past lives and his eventual transformation. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa-Xi, on May 11, 2025.

Zheng Shengqi speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I know that I must be grateful, and I must also know how to strive in my learning and break through in my practice.

I am deeply grateful to Namo Amituofo and to Practitioner Su. On behalf of all the prison guards, I bow in gratitude for the Buddha's grace and the grace of Practitioner Su. Namo Amituofo."

A Life Built on Blood and Sweat

"In a past life, I was a self-made man. I started with absolutely nothing and eventually built a shop in the marketplace, gaining such prestige in my hometown that even the county magistrate would nod and offer me tea when we met. Every step I took as I climbed out of the mud was stained with blood, sweat, and the shadows of many people.

I often told myself: 'I have never relied on anyone; I fought for everything myself.' I said that to others hundreds of times, and to myself thousands of times. I thought that if I said it often enough, it would become the truth—the very foundation of my existence.

When I was a child, my family was poor; we were always hungry and cold. My father passed away early, and my mother was in poor health. I remember one winter, I was so hungry that I stole a sweet potato from a neighbour. I was caught, and my mother had to kneel in the snow to apologise for me. From that day on, I swore to myself that I would never let anyone look down on me again. That sweet potato tasted bitter, but as I swallowed it, my heart became harder than stone. I told myself: 'No matter how cold it gets, I will endure. No matter how much it hurts, I will never let anyone see me cry.'

The Art of Using People as Stepping Stones

"I relied on my wit, my silver tongue, and my sharp instincts to get ahead. Some said I understood human nature; others said I had 'methods.' In my heart, I knew the truth: I treated every person like a 'stone' to be stepped upon, though I made sure they did not feel the pain. I made them believe that they were the ones who willingly bent down to give me a boost.

I helped people, but only those who were useful to me. My words were sweet, but they were always filled with hidden probes. I was tolerant of others, but I always remembered exactly how they had treated me. I valued loyalty, but only when that loyalty helped me go further.

I was not a 'bad' person; I simply understood too well how this world operated. I thought this was maturity, this was reality.

I mastered the art of endurance, of reading people, and of negotiation. Later, I learned the lethal power of silence and the control that comes with a smile.

I married, had children, and built three large mansions. Neighbours asked me to mediate their disputes, and young people came to ask for the secrets of my business success. I would smile and say, 'Integrity.' In that smile, there was sincerity, but there was far more experience and defensive caution.

But in my heart, I knew I never gambled on integrity; I only believed in 'control.' I liked having everything within my arrangements, and I liked having everyone listen to me, because that was the only way I felt safe."

The Transformation into Stone

"Then, when I was fifty-six, I was struck by a sudden, violent illness. There was no time to arrange my affairs. I only remember that night: my head grew heavy, my vision went black, and when I opened my eyes again, the world had completely changed.

I found myself lying in a grey, misty space. There was no one else around. I could not move, I could not make a sound; I only felt my body slowly hardening and turning cold, until finally, I transformed into a stone step.

Yes, a stone step. I do not know how much time passed before I realised that I was part of an endless slope, and countless people were stepping on me as they walked upward.

I was not the only step; there were many other 'people' beside me. We had all once thought we were the ones who had climbed to the top by our own strength.

Every person who stepped on me was like someone I had stepped on in the past. Some faces I recognised; others, I had forgotten their names. But every step they took fell like a hammer into my consciousness. Some had eyes full of resentment, some were cold, and some said nothing at all—they just walked over me quietly.

I wanted to speak, but I could only remain silent. I wanted to turn over, but I was immobile. I wanted to close my eyes, but I no longer had eyelids. I even began to wonder if this was a deeper kind of prison: my consciousness remained, but I was powerless to change anything. I could only endure.

As the days went by, I began to crack. It was not the stone that was cracking; it was my heart.

I began to ask myself: Was I ever truly happy? Were those smiles of mine just a form of defence? Did I really never rely on anyone? Were the things I claimed to have 'fought for' actually the result of others' forbearance?

I once said, 'In this world, only the strong survive.' But looking at myself now, was I a strong person? I wanted to cry for the first time, but I did not even have an outlet for tears."

The Sound of Deliverance

"Just then, a figure walked onto me, but he did not rush to step over. He stopped, pressed his palms together, and whispered: 'Namo Amituofo.'

That sound seemed to pass through a thousand years of sand, falling softly into the depths of my heart. It was not a shock; it was a softness, a peace I had never known before, wrapping around me. In that instant, I felt the grey dust on my body begin to loosen. For the first time, I felt that I was not being trampled, but that someone had stopped and truly 'seen' me.

I saw light on the person's forehead; he was a practitioner. He walked while chanting the Buddha's name, his steps steady, his lips moving gently, but there was not a hint of reproach. He was not there to judge me; he was simply letting me hear the sound I had long forgotten. That Buddha-name seemed to be chanted just for me.

I did not know who he was; perhaps he was just someone passing by. But I knew he had brought me a long-lost warmth. After that, more and more sounds of chanting reached me—men and women, old and young. Some I recognised. Some voices were gentle, some firm, and some carried the sound of weeping. I was no longer in such pain.

I finally understood: these sounds were for me, and for everyone like me who thought they relied only on themselves, yet had hurt so many others. They did not scold me, they did not judge me; they simply chanted Namo Amituofo. I began to chant along. Although I was still a stone step, my heart began to stir. I chanted: 'Namo Amituofo.' With every sentence, it was as if one of my past mistakes was being gently untied. It was not about erasing the sin; it was about finally being willing to admit the mistake.

I wept and knelt—not to turn over, but to express my gratitude. I had stepped on so many people to climb upward. Now, I wish to use the vows of my remaining life to chant for the hearts I once trampled, to return a little light to them—Namo Amituofo."

A New Beginning

"As the grey dust fell away, I regained my freedom. When my soul arrived at the place of rebirth, I knew I was about to enter a new womb, and I constantly reminded myself to wash my heart and change my ways completely.

In this new life, I chose to change my heart. From birth, I did not like to talk; I always watched people quietly. When I discovered that someone needed help, I would assist them silently and then leave just as quietly. In this life, I only wanted to be an ordinary person, living without contention. I had no grand dreams; I only wanted to do good deeds in silence. When life ended, I departed peacefully.

When my soul walked the path of rebirth again, there was no turbulence in my heart; I faced everything with equanimity. I am grateful to the King of Hell for giving me this opportunity to serve in the underworld. I have worked hard to learn from it, witnessing the many states of life and death, and my heart is filled with a thousand emotions.

I am grateful to have heard Practitioner Su give Dharma talks here. This gave me a profound realisation, helping me understand the impermanence of life and death, and for the first time, the wish for liberation arose in my heart.

I will continue to practice diligently, and I vow to help more sentient beings so that we may all attain the Buddha's path together. I am so grateful that today I can be reborn in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. On behalf of all the prison guards and all sentient beings with karmic affinity, I bow in gratitude for the Buddha's grace and the grace of Practitioner Su. Namo Amituofo.

Zheng Shengqi, with palms joined."