Lin Shuli was a successful businesswoman who, after a terminal cancer diagnosis, dedicated her final years to propagating the . Following her passing, she served as a prison guard in the underworld before being guided to the of Ultimate Bliss by Practitioner Su. This interview was recorded on July 5, 2025, at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre.
Lin Shuli speaks:
"From the very day I was notified that I had been placed on the list for Practitioner Su to guide me to the Western Pure Land, I entered a state of being unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I began to reflect deeply upon my past, gaining a profound realisation of the suffering inherent in the cycle of reincarnation. Today, I have truly been liberated from the cycle of rebirth."
A State of Unprecedented Peace
"Under the guidance of Practitioner Su’s , sixty of us—all prison guards—have arrived here in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss today. It is truly difficult for me to describe my current state of mind. I feel a mixture of excitement, , being deeply moved, and immense gratitude, yet beneath it all, there is a profound sense of stability and stillness. Perhaps this is the nature of the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss—a place of such steady, secure, and tranquil existence. There are no dramatic highs or lows, no turbulent ups and downs. The heart remains forever in a state of calm, quietly chanting .
On behalf of all the prison guards present today, I wish to express my deepest gratitude to Namo Amituofo and to Practitioner Su."
The Woman Who Chose Career Over All
"I am Lin Shuli. In the human world, I was considered a successful woman, possessing my own business and achieving significant milestones. Almost everything I desired, I was able to obtain—all through my own hard work and effort.
I was not a traditional woman. After I married, I initially had no intention of having children. It was only when I unexpectedly became pregnant with my son that I decided to bring him into the world.
However, even after he was born, my career remained my primary focus. As soon as my confinement period was over, I immediately returned to my post, continuing to fight and struggle for the sake of my business.
If you were to ask me to choose between 'family' and 'career,' I would have chosen 'career' without a second thought. Many women might choose their family, but I would not. To me, my career was my security. My career represented the achievements of my life, and I was never going to give that up.
Because I was so fixated on my own professional pursuits, I often neglected my family. My husband was the one who took care of our son. I was frequently away from home and rarely had time to accompany my husband. Over time, cracks naturally appeared in our marriage, but I did not care.
I once told my husband quite heartlessly: 'If you want a divorce, I will not object. You can have the child, and I will move out.' At the moment I said those words, I did not mean anything malicious. I simply did not want my husband to suffer because of this marriage. I wanted him to find a new life, to find a woman willing to accompany him and build a happy, wonderful family together.
My husband loved me very much. When I said those words, he was in immense pain and distress, yet he chose not to divorce me. I knew he could not bear to let go, but his reluctance only made me feel more guilty. Even so, I still could not abandon my career; it was my entire life."
The Turning Point: A Diagnosis of Mortality
"In the tenth year of our marriage, when my son was eight, my life underwent a drastic change—I fell ill.
It was not an ordinary illness; it was late-stage stomach cancer. Because of my long-term habits of staying up late, living under constant pressure, and my stubborn, competitive nature, my stomach had always been prone to discomfort. Especially during busy work periods, stomach pain would strike, forcing me to stop what I was doing and take painkillers and stomach medicine just to continue.
I never saw a doctor for my stomach; I always bought medicine at the pharmacy myself. To me, that was the fastest and most effective solution.
That day, I collapsed in my office from the pain. It was my colleague who rushed me to the hospital, where the doctor finally declared that I had late-stage stomach cancer.
My husband turned his back to me and wept bitterly; he was devastated. I myself had never expected this. After struggling for all these years, what I had earned in the end was one word: death.
I had to die. I would eventually die, and I did not have much time left. If that was the case, what was my career worth? How could my career represent the achievements of a lifetime? I could take nothing with me, and yet I had lived such a short, premature life.
During the few weeks I spent resting in the hospital, I pondered repeatedly: what is life, really?
Looking at the patients in the hospital—from the young to the old, the poor to the wealthy—it seemed that no one was immune to illness. Regardless of your status, age, or race, you have a chance of falling ill the moment the demon of sickness finds you.
But what is the cause that attracts this demon, compelling it to demand your life? In worldly terms, of course, it is poor lifestyle habits, bad hobbies, poor diet and sleep schedules, and negative states of mind that lead to the development of disease—not to mention genetics.
In my own case, I had all of those factors. But later, I learned of another factor: 'personality.' I never knew that having a 'personality' could be a mistake, because who in the world doesn't have one? Everyone has their own character; to many, that is called 'uniqueness.' It is a display of having character and personal flair. But later, I realised that, very often, it is precisely this kind of personality that destroys oneself.
I heard from a fellow practitioner that 'personality leads to illness.' That was when I first realised that there was this additional cause for my sickness."
A New Path: The Gift of Dharma
"Later, this fellow practitioner and I became very good friends. I slowly learned from her many different perspectives on life, values, and the teachings of the Buddha for us in this world. I gradually realised that I had truly wronged my own life, wronged this hard-to-obtain human body.
Although my remaining time was short, I still wanted to use my own strength to do something meaningful for society. Of course, I also had to take care of my family, because I owed my child and my husband too much. I wanted to make amends to them, to let them feel a little warmth of family before I died.
Later, I brought my husband and child to learn the Buddha’s teachings together. To me, this was the best gift of life I could give them. I wanted to infuse their lives with the Dharma, to help them understand how to practise and chant Namo Amituofo, so they would not live as ignorantly as I had, wasting this life in vain.
Fortunately, my husband and child both had good roots. Not only did they not reject the Dharma, but they also took the initiative to serve at the temple, and when they had time, they would join fellow practitioners in listening to Dharma talks.
I spent my remaining days taking my husband and child to propagate the Dharma everywhere. We drove around, spreading the Buddha’s teachings to many places. In some places where people were friendly, we would stay longer to introduce the Dharma to them. To me, that period was so precious, so joyful; it was the most meaningful time of my life.
Not only that, but my child also gained a deeper understanding of life during that time. I took him to see the impermanence of the world, the shortness of life, and the preciousness of the Dharma and the greatness of the Buddha. If there were no Buddha, everyone would have to die. But as long as people believe in the Buddha, they will understand how to stop clinging to everything in this world, how to strive for their own souls, how to leave suffering behind, and how to seek liberation, so they no longer have to suffer.
My child is very wise and kind. After we went on several Dharma-propagation journeys together, he decided to leave the mundane world and become a monk. I was very happy for him when he made that decision, and so was my husband. During my lifetime, I saw my child become a monk. His Dharma appearance was incredibly dignified, which was because he had always possessed a kind and compassionate heart. Perhaps it was also because he had practised in the past, possessing such great and a dignified appearance."
From the Laptop to the Underworld
"I left the human world at the age of thirty-seven, but I did not immediately achieve rebirth in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. My spirit quickly entered the space of a laptop. I had always been accustomed to using the same brand of laptop. The one I entered was the same brand I had used when I was struggling for my career. Later, when I was propagating the Dharma, I bought another laptop of the same brand, with a similar casing—they looked almost identical.
The reason I entered the laptop space was, on one hand, because my had not yet completely severed the time I spent fighting for my career. On the other hand, I had spent much of my later life lying in a hospital bed, using a laptop to help sentient beings. Under my intense attachment, I ended up entering the space of the laptop.
Later, the laptop my spirit entered continued to be used by my husband. He used it to manage Dharma work, spreading the teachings to various small places. I contributed quite a bit to this, providing him with inspiration through various means and helping him find the resources he needed to make his path of propagating the Dharma smoother.
Less than five years later, two underworld officials called me out from the laptop space. They told me: 'It is time to go.' I followed them before King Yama. King Yama showed me the changes I had made in my final years, and my sincere intentions, which had truly helped many people emerge from their predicaments and embark on the path of learning the Buddha’s teachings.
King Yama assigned me to serve as a prison guard. I took on this role, but many times my heart was pained and distressed, because I saw them suffering so intensely. Their pain was extreme, agonizing, yet I could not help them.
Later, I accidentally heard Practitioner Su giving a Dharma talk; the Buddha’s teachings had reached the hells. I was so happy that I listened to the teachings earnestly. I excitedly began to share them with these hell-bound beings, hoping that they, too, would listen to the teachings, openly repent, chant the Buddha’s name, and seek help from Practitioner Su.
In the process, many beings were indeed saved from the hells. I was so happy—happier than they were themselves.
In the end, I also made a vow to seek rebirth in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. Today was the day, and Practitioner Su’s Dharma Body guided me and the other fifty-nine prison guards to rebirth in the West.
