This is a record of an interview with Du Wencong, who sought deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang 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, on March 30, 2025.
Du Wencong speaks:
". I am deeply grateful for this opportunity to be reborn in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss today. I will cherish this chance dearly, and I will practise with great diligence, hoping that one day I will have the capacity to help all sentient beings.
I am filled with gratitude to Namo Amituofo and to Practitioner Su. On behalf of all the prison guards, I bow in thanks for the Buddha's grace and the grace of Practitioner Su. Namo Amituofo."
A Life Built on Deception
"In my past, I was a man of fine appearance—clever, sharp, and seemingly destined for greatness. When I was young, this was indeed the case. Relying on a silver tongue, a polished exterior, and a natural quick-wittedness, I found that both my social connections and my financial luck were quite good.
I did not have much formal education, but I was an expert at flattery. I knew how to offer a compliment to those above me and how to manipulate those below me. Whether it was doing business or networking, I had a system for everything. People would call me 'smooth' or 'well-connected,' and I would smile and nod, while thinking to myself, 'Isn't this just what you call talent?'
I calculated everything I did, even my emotions and relationships. I understood clearly that in this world, there is no such thing as truly unconditional Goodness; there are only debts of emotion waiting to be collected. I feared 'emotion' more than anything, so I never let anyone get a hold on me, and I never offered anyone my true heart."
The Betrayal of Kin
"However, there was an exception. When I was young and poor, I relied on my cousin-uncle to get ahead. He was an honest man who never married. He spent his whole life working on ships, saving every penny to leave behind some property and savings for his retirement. He trusted me, treated me like one of his juniors, and helped me through several business crises. I called him 'Uncle' to his face, but in my heart, I treated him like an ATM.
Later, he suffered a stroke. His speech became slurred, and his flickered in and out. I accompanied him to sign an agreement, smiling as I said, 'Uncle, I will look after these property deeds for you. We will deal with them once you get better.' His eyes looked at me with such complexity, as if he wanted to say something but could not find the words.
Three days later, he passed away.
I did not hold a funeral. I simply had him cremated, telling everyone that he was a man of simple tastes who did not wish for a grand display. The truth was that I was afraid someone would ask questions and uncover the origin of those deeds. I sold one of the properties, used the money to renovate my house, and put the title in my own name—all perfectly 'legal' on paper.
That day, I brewed a cup of fine tea and sat in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the reflection of my new sign on the glass. I truly felt that my life was a success."
The Eyes in the Dark
"But from that day on, I began to have dreams.
In my dreams, there were eyes staring at me in the darkness. They were red, round, and would pop out from corners, from outside the window, or from behind the back of my chair.
Once, I woke up in a panic to find myself sitting at my desk, my hand gripping a pen tightly, the paper covered in drawings of fox eyes.
I began to fear the dark, the curtains, and the gaze of others. My workers said I had changed—I was prone to outbursts, impatient, and spoke with a sharp tongue. My friends drifted away one by one, saying my 'energy field' was wrong and that I had become 'filled with dark, ghostly energy.'
Until one late night, when I looked into the mirror, I saw a face. It was not my own face. The corners of the eyes were sharp and long, the nose was upturned, and the corners of the mouth were slightly curled—just like the smile I used to manipulate the world, only colder and emptier. It was the face of a fox.
I was so terrified that I shattered the mirror, but no matter which mirror I looked into, the fox was there."
A Fox's Existence
"Eventually, I truly became a fox.
It was not the kind of transformation from a myth; I was a real, physical fox with oily, shiny fur and nimble limbs, yet I still possessed the thoughts of a human. I wandered on the outskirts of the city, hiding in places where humans could not reach. During the day, I huddled in abandoned houses; at night, I scavenged through trash for food. A few times, I tried to approach people, but as soon as they saw me, they would scream and throw stones, as if I were something unclean.
I wanted to tell them that I used to be a human, but I could only emit low, guttural sounds. I wanted to beg for help, but no one could understand me.
What hurt me the most was not the loneliness, but the unwillingness in my heart. I once had a house, a car, and a career—how did I become like this overnight? But whenever I thought of these things, my heart would ache as if pierced by needles, as if a voice were saying to me, 'You do not deserve it.'
I slowly began to remember. The people I had cheated, the lies I had told, the kindness I had trampled upon, the sincerity I had disregarded—it all surfaced like a film playing in reverse."
The Sound of the Buddha-Name
"One night, dragging my injured leg, I collapsed in front of a dilapidated little temple. I was hungry, cold, and in pain; I no longer wanted to struggle. At that moment, the image of my uncle's eyes before he died flashed through my mind. Those eyes held no curses, only silence—a silence so heavy it pierced my very soul.
Just then, a low and steady Buddha-name reached my ears: 'Namo Amituofo... Namo Amituofo...'
The sound seemed to come from within the temple, and yet it also seemed to come from within my own heart.
I looked up and saw an old monk holding prayer beads, sitting before the altar. He was blind, yet he seemed to know I was there. He did not ask who I was, nor did he drive me away. He simply said, 'If a fox can chant the Buddha's name, it too can be saved.'
My heart shook, and tears suddenly began to flow. At that moment, I felt he was not speaking to me, but to the very depths of my soul.
From that day on, I stayed in the broken temple. The monk did not speak; he only chanted the Buddha's name. I did not speak either; I only listened. At first, I just listened. Later, I followed along. Finally, I placed the Buddha-name into my heart.
I had never studied the sutras, nor did I understand the . But I knew that a single Buddha-name was like a thin thread, pulling me up, inch by inch, out of the darkness."
A New Life and Final Liberation
"A year later, the old monk passed away. He left very peacefully, as if he were merely sleeping. I knelt beside him, not moving for the entire night, my mouth continuously chanting that familiar Buddha-name.
The next day, as the sky broke into dawn, a white light shone down. I saw the fur on my feet slowly fall away, and my skin became clean. A soft whisper reached my ears: 'Wencong, you may go now.'
I closed my eyes and whispered, 'Thank you for the Buddha's grace.'
When I woke up again, I was in of an infant. This time, I was born into a humble family. My parents were simple farmers; we were not wealthy, but our home was filled with warmth and a heart of reverence for Heaven. I was physically weak from childhood, but my heart was at peace. Whenever I heard the Buddha-name, I would become quiet, sometimes even shedding tears for no reason.
Neighbors said I was a child born with a deep Buddhist affinity. I did not know what 'Buddhist affinity' meant, but I knew that in this life, I did not want to cheat, I did not want to be greedy, and I did not want to hurt anyone ever again.
I was still named Du Wencong, but this time, I truly wanted to be an upright, clean, and honest person. I worked hard, and when I grew up, I was eager to help others, assisting many children in the village to learn and grow. I lived a simple and pure life.
When I finally left the human world, I did not look at how much I had accomplished; my heart was simply at peace. When my spirit stood before the King of Hell, my heart remained at peace. The King of Hell assigned me to a service role, and my heart was still at peace.
After serving in the Yama Palace for several years, I was fortunate enough to hear Practitioner Su give Dharma talks. My heart was filled with Dharma-, and I knew this was the great path of liberation. I began to practise with total devotion. Today, I am so happy to have received this opportunity for rebirth. I will cherish it, and I hope to continue my practice diligently so that in the future, I can help even more sentient beings.
I am so grateful for this chance to 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 thanks for the Buddha's grace and the grace of Practitioner Su. Namo Amituofo.
