In the depths of the long, dark night, I finally beheld the clouds of dawn. After wandering through the cycle of rebirth for countless lifetimes, I have at last seen the face of . If you were to ask me what year it is today, I would have long since forgotten. Before my eyes lies the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss, appearing as dreamlike and illusory, yet I know with absolute certainty that Namo Amituofo stands before me. This is no illusion; it is the ultimate reality.
I see golden lotuses blooming with golden light, red lotuses radiating a brilliant crimson glow, and others shimmering in azure and white. The brilliance is beyond description, dazzling and magnificent. This is truly the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. I, along with fifty-nine other prison guards, kneel in gratitude before the Buddha. We bow to express our deepest thanks for His infinite , which has allowed us, the wandering children, to return home at last. We also offer our profound gratitude to Practitioner Su for the grace of his rescue, for guiding us to sever the suffering of life and death, and for leading us to our eternal home in the West. Our gratitude is truly beyond words.
A Childhood of Wisdom and Virtue
My name is Gu Huanzhong, and I was born during the chaotic years of the late Yuan Dynasty. By all appearances, I should have been raised in a wealthy and harmonious family, surrounded by my father, mother, and grandparents. We lived together in peace, sharing a life of happiness and contentment.
When I was four years old, my father began to teach me how to write. I would sit in his study, my small desk placed right beside his large one. As he wrote, I would follow his lead. I was an inquisitive child who loved to learn. Even at the tender age of four, I understood more than my peers because I actively sought knowledge about everything that piqued my curiosity. My father, recognising my intelligence, would often say to me, "Life is marked by impermanence. No one can know what will happen from one moment to the next. Therefore, I must cherish the time we have together as father and son and ensure you are well-taught. This is the greatest responsibility of my life." My father was widely recognised as a man of virtue. He never contended with others, and he was even willing to step aside from official positions. There was nothing in this world that could stir his heart or tempt his desires.
The Secret of My Birth
As a child who acted like a little adult, I once asked my father a difficult question: "Father, why did you marry Mother?" I asked this because I rarely saw any intimacy between them. They treated each other with the utmost respect, like guests, and they always went about their own affairs as if they were not a married couple at all. When I asked this, my father remained silent. I could see he had no intention of answering, so I did not press him further. However, my curiosity remained, and months later, I asked him again. Finally, he decided to speak.
"I think it is time I told you," he said. "I could not hide this from you forever. It is true that I am not a man who desires marriage. I have never felt any romantic inclination toward women. Sometimes, I even wonder if I am cold-blooded, as if there is no emotion within this body. Even toward my own parents, I merely fulfil my duty as a son; I have never felt any excessive emotional attachment. As for your mother, there is no affection between us, and we have never shared the intimacy of a true husband and wife."
I was stunned by his honesty and asked nervously, "Then... how was I born?"
My father explained: "Over four years ago, I found a young woman weeping by a cliff, preparing to jump. I pulled her back just in time to save her life. At that moment, she was hysterical and even angry that I had stopped her. I tried to understand what had happened and discovered that she was pregnant, not by a man she loved, but by a bandit in the mountains. She could not accept that she was no longer pure, nor could she bear the reality of her pregnancy. She felt that ending her life was the only way out. I told her: 'I understand your situation. Such an event would make anyone want to leave this world to escape the pain. But this is merely an act of avoidance; it does not solve the problem. If you leave, you will only inflict greater suffering upon your parents and those who love you. Furthermore, the child in your womb will be innocently deprived of the chance to be born.'"
He continued, "She wept even harder as I spoke. I sat quietly beside her until her heart calmed down, and then I asked, 'Have you considered another way? Could you give birth to this child and live a peaceful life?' She replied, 'No man would want a woman like me, especially one who is pregnant.' When I heard this, I knew what I had to do. I told her, 'I can help you.' She looked up in shock and asked how. I replied, 'I am willing to marry you in name only, but we will never share a life as husband and wife.' She asked if I was certain, and I told her that I had no desire for women and that marrying her was simply to save her and the unborn child. I told her that having a wife in name was of no consequence to me, as long as you were both safe. She was deeply moved, and we were married within two weeks. Your grandparents were shocked, but they respected my decision because they knew my intent was to save lives."
The Lesson of True Worth
After hearing this, I was completely speechless. My father then looked at me and said, "I have considered for a long time whether to tell you this. But I decided it was necessary, for I have a vital lesson to teach you. Listen carefully: A person's birth does not define them, but their misguided thoughts can ruin their entire life. My greatest responsibility is to educate you correctly. Today, I tell you this so you understand that it does not matter if your biological father was a bandit. Even if your father were the Emperor, it would mean nothing to me. What matters is not the false status, fame, or position of this world. Regardless of where you are born or whose child you are, the essence is the same. The most important thing is to teach this body to be kind and sincere. You must learn to be compassionate and honest toward everyone. Your universal love will make your life valuable, regardless of your origins. This is what you must learn."
My father did not just tell me this once. Every day, he took me into the streets to witness the realities of the world. Through his guidance, I saw many things:
I saw wealthy merchants trampling upon the poor.
I saw women at the roadside haggling over the price of a single vegetable.
I saw an elderly grandmother, ninety years of age, still setting up a stall to sell vegetables to support her blind child.
I saw a family mourning the sudden death of a relative.
I saw a mother dog using her very life to protect her seven newborn puppies.
Each scene was a profound lesson, helping me understand that the meaning of life is not found in one's background, career success, or family status, but in what one can contribute to the world with one's life. My father knew that impermanence could arrive at any moment, so he strove to make me a useful member of society. Yet, whether by fate or some premonition, he left me when I was only six years old. That year was the greatest turning point of my life, for it was then that I lost my entire family.
My father’s performance in his official duties had long stirred intense jealousy among other officials. They had been plotting to frame him for quite some time, and in the year I turned six, they finally executed their plan. One week before my entire family was killed, I happened to pass by an inn near our home. I glanced inside and was shocked to see our old family steward, Wang. I wondered to myself, "Why is Old Wang here?" Curious, I hid by the doorway and watched. I saw him in deep conversation with a stranger, and after they finished speaking, the stranger handed him a bag of money that appeared to be quite substantial. Their entire interaction was shrouded in secrecy. When I returned home, I told my father about it. He taught me, "No matter what you see, you must first learn one thing: do not assume the worst of others. Old Wang has been with us for many years; he is a good man and would not do anything harmful." I listened to my father and stopped dwelling on the matter, soon forgetting it entirely. Little did I know that one week later, tragedy would strike our home.
The Day Everything Changed
That day, I had gone out to play alone. I originally intended to stay out until the afternoon, but suddenly remembering that I had not finished my writing practice, I turned back halfway. When I returned home, I was frozen in horror by the sight before me. My grandfather and grandmother lay in the living room. I rushed to the bedroom and found my mother’s body. I then ran to the study, where I found my father slumped in his chair with a knife wound in his chest. I hurried to his side; he was still breathing. At that moment, I saw a figure dash past the window. I had not been mistaken—it was Old Wang. My father suddenly spoke, and I leaned in close, trembling, to hear him. I asked, "Father! Father! Please tell me what happened? Why is this happening? I just saw Old Wang run past; did he do this? Why would he do such a thing? I must go and seek revenge!" With his final strength, my father said, "I am holding onto this last breath to tell you the most important thing: no matter what others do to us, you must learn to repay resentment with virtue. The money in the house has likely been stolen, but I have hidden some savings in the backyard of our ancestral home. That will be enough to support you for a lifetime. I do not know the full truth of what has happened, but no matter what, remember my words: repay resentment with virtue." After saying this, blood flowed from his lips, and he passed away before my eyes. I knelt on the ground, weeping uncontrollably. Just then, Old Wang reappeared before me. He asked, "Young Master, what has happened?" He feigned ignorance, showing his usual concern for me. I was speechless; I could not bring myself to speak to him, for he was the murderer of my entire family. Old Wang then asked, "Young Master, do you want to report this to the authorities?" I knew he was the killer, and since he was standing right in front of me, there was no need to go far to report the crime. I remembered my father’s words clearly, yet I did not know what I should do.
The Burden of Forgiveness
In the week following my family’s death, I let Old Wang help with the funeral arrangements. I felt like a soul adrift, unable to process the sudden catastrophe that had claimed all my loved ones in a single morning. Although my family was gone, I did not dismiss Old Wang; I allowed him to continue working in the house. A month later, I walked into the backyard and saw him with his back to me, tending to the garden. I approached him and asked, "Why did you do it?" He was startled by my question and turned around, asking, "Young Master, to which matter are you referring?" I replied, "I know you understand; there is no need to pretend in front of me." He was shocked that I knew. Suddenly, his demeanor changed, and he let out a wild laugh, saying, "This was meant to happen. I endured for so long before finally doing it; it was actually being kind to them." I asked, "Why?" He explained, "If the Gu family had not harmed my grandfather all those years ago, I would not have been reduced to being a steward for others. I chose to come here as a servant specifically to wait for the day of revenge! Now I have succeeded, and I am so happy! I am happy every day!" I could see no happiness in him; he was merely deceiving himself. I walked up to him and said, "My father knew you were the one who killed our family, yet he told me to repay resentment with virtue. You can see how vast his mind-capacity was; even in the face of death, he did not hold a grudge against you. How could you bear to kill my entire family?" Old Wang knelt and wept bitterly, pouring out the story of his own family’s plight. Because of money, his three daughters had been forced into brothels. Driven to the brink of madness by these circumstances and incited by officials who held grudges against my father, he had committed this insane act. At that moment, he seemed to wake up; he covered his face and sobbed, kowtowing on the ground until his forehead was covered in blood. I told him, "Do not do this. Even if you kowtow until your head breaks, their lives will not return." He said, "I will turn myself in." I replied, "I will not interfere with what you do, but before I leave this home, I am willing to help you restore peace to your family." I told him, "This is the only thing I can do for you; please accept it. I hope you can let go of the resentment in your heart and let this all end here." In the end, I took a large sum of money to help him pay off all his family’s debts and redeem his three daughters, allowing them to return to their normal lives. Later, I heard that Old Wang had turned himself in to the magistrate. When I was summoned to testify, I told them, "I will not pursue this matter." Although I did not pursue it, he still had to face the legal consequences for murder. He was imprisoned and died of a severe illness less than a month later.
Reflections on the Cycle of
My life experiences made me mature early; at six years old, I already understood many things like a small adult. This maturity was not meant to make me arrogant or complacent, but to help me see the world more clearly and thoroughly. I never married or had children, but I was not lonely, for I spent my life practicing what my father taught me: "Be a kind, sincere, and loving person." I followed his teachings, using my abilities to help others throughout my life, until I left the human world at the age of seventy-two. After I passed away, I was taken by two officials to see the King of Hell. I never expected that when I became a jailer, the first criminal I would see would be Old Wang, still suffering in the hells for the crime of killing my family. I felt deep regret and helplessness. Every action one takes in this world cannot escape the laws of karma and cause and effect. Having served time in prison in the human world, he still had to endure punishment in the hells—it is not worth it, truly not worth it! Old Wang and I did not say much to each other, but four years ago, when I met Practitioner Su and began to learn the , I saw Old Wang again. I told him, "Chant the Buddha's name! Chant Namo Amituofo and seek to leave the suffering of birth and death." After that, I never saw him again. I was eventually placed on the list of jailers to be sent to the Western Land, and today, four years later, I have been guided by Practitioner Su to the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. Life is truly an illusion; everything is false. People of the world, you must wake up!
Gratitude to the compassion of the Buddha.
Gratitude to the compassionate guidance of Practitioner Su.
Namo Amituofo.
This message was recorded by the Buddha's disciple, Shi Fajing.
The jailer’s father, Gu Yunhai, is currently in the Twenty-third Heaven and has been guided by Practitioner Su to the Western Land of Dharma Nature.
