The Ant and the Scholar: A Journey to Awakening

This is a record of an interview with Venerable Lu Yiqing, who sought Chao Du at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. This account reflects upon his childhood and his path to the Dharma. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa, on February 26, 2026.

Venerable Lu Yiqing speaks:

"The entire class opened their books in preparation for the lesson, but I remained motionless, my mind still fixated on that earlier thought. The teacher walked slowly toward me and tapped on my desk. Only then did I realise he was standing right in front of me, and I scrambled to open my book to prepare for the lesson.

When I returned home, my father asked me, 'What were you thinking about during class?' I hesitated for a long time before finally asking him, 'Father, why must Yiqing study?' My father only replied, 'Do you not wish to be like your father?' The teacher in that classroom was none other than my father. Ever since I could remember, he had been teaching. He had taught so many students, and they all performed brilliantly in society; they were all talented scholars and men of great reputation. I watched these students return to express their gratitude for my father's guidance. They were all grown adults now, some even married with children of their own. They reminisced about their school days, sighing at how quickly time had passed. Many of them had become officials, and most belonged to the upper-middle class of society. Because they were well-read and highly educated, they naturally commanded everyone's respect. My father was surrounded by this group of students—they were his proudest works, and he smiled so happily, as if admiring his own perfect masterpieces. I watched them from the side, observing how each of them took such pride in their achievements, reciting poetry to one another or discussing the lives of the social elite. They were very satisfied with their current status; they were the high-intellectuals of society whom everyone envied.

The Burden of Expectations

Playing beside me was the neighbour's child, Shunhe. He was the same age as me—seven years old. Our connection was truly remarkable; not only did we live next door, but we also looked so much alike that if you didn't observe us closely, you would think we were the same person. We were often mistaken for twins, though in truth, we had no blood relation at all. Our parents also found it strange—why did these two children look so similar? Perhaps it was simply fate! Although we were the same age and looked identical, our family backgrounds were worlds apart. Because his family was poor, Shunhe had never received a formal education. He always envied me for having a father who was a teacher and for being able to study at school every day, while he could only follow his father to work in the fields, baking under the sun and covered in dirt. Whenever Shunhe said this, I would lower my head in shame, for I did not like studying at all, and I felt ashamed of my own lack of contentment. As we played, we watched my father's students, and Shunhe wore an expression of deep envy. He whispered to me, 'I wish I could be like them. Look at how learned and knowledgeable they are—how truly admirable.'

I looked at them and shook my head. 'I don't want to be like them at all. That kind of life is so boring. Look at them now; in a little while, they will just be a group of white-haired old men.' Although I listened to my father and went to school every day, I never took my studies seriously. After learning a few characters in class, I would start looking around restlessly. One day, an ant suddenly appeared on my desk. I was delighted—finally, a new playmate in the classroom! I watched every move the ant made. It crawled and crawled until it reached my book, where it stopped, motionless, right on top of the text. I couldn't help but curiously ask the ant, 'Why are you here?' To my shock, the ant actually answered my question! I let out a loud scream in terror. Everyone turned to look at me, and the teacher asked, 'What is going on?' I hurriedly stood up to apologise to everyone, then secretly resumed my conversation with the ant. The ant told me, 'I saw that you were not paying attention in class. You are the least diligent student here.' I was astonished—this ant actually knew I wasn't paying attention! It was absolutely fascinating. I asked the ant, 'Who are you? Aren't you just an ant? How can you talk?' The ant replied, 'I was once a human, but after I died, I became an ant. My spirit is inside this ant's body.' I screamed again in fright, and everyone looked at me once more. This time, the teacher was angry and immediately ordered me to stand outside as punishment. I asked the teacher, 'May I take my book with me?' The teacher replied, 'Of course.' I carefully closed the book, keeping my finger in the seam, terrified that I might crush the ant, and ran outside, feeling strangely excited. Once outside, I immediately opened the book, and thankfully, the ant was still there.

A Conversation with a Tiny Scholar

The ant began to scurry around the book in a panic. I asked, 'What is wrong? I wouldn't hurt you.' The ant said anxiously, 'You don't want to study, but I do! This is an opportunity I have longed for. It took so much effort to climb onto this desk today, and I never expected you to bring me out here.' I found it amusing. 'You, an ant, want to study?' The ant told me, 'I was a top student. In my life, I was incredibly learned, having read so many books. No one loved studying as much as I did. One year, to prepare for the imperial examinations, I studied day and night, forgetting to eat and sleep. One day, my body could no longer bear the strain, and I collapsed on my desk, unconscious. My vision blurred, and as I looked at the characters in the book, they became distorted and started running around like ants. As I watched them, I took my last breath. I never imagined that after I died, I would become an ant.' I felt it was all so inconceivable—I never imagined such things existed in this world. I told the ant, 'Your story is truly amazing. From now on, I will give you my seat. My father's lessons are quite brilliant, so you should study well!'

I went home that day feeling so happy, for I had made the biggest decision of my life. As soon as I arrived, I ran to Shunhe's house. I took him to a secluded spot and told him, 'From tomorrow on, you go to school in my place!' Shunhe was both shocked and delighted. 'Is that really okay?' The next day, I pretended to be ill, wearing a hat and heavy clothing, and kept my head down as I prepared to 'go to school.' The person who went was actually Shunhe. I had already instructed him, 'Make sure you aren't discovered. Just keep your head down in class and pretend to be diligent. My father is so absorbed in his teaching that he won't notice.' Instead of going to class, I ran into the streets. I saw all kinds of people and all kinds of lives. Some young children were already working alongside their parents. My heart felt heavy. 'Why is everyone working? My father is working, Shunhe's parents are working, and these people and children here are all working. Is this what it means to be human—just to work?' I walked dejectedly to the riverbank and sat there, tossing stones into the water. Suddenly, I heard a cry: 'Stop throwing us into the river!' I looked at the small stones in my hand—they were the ones speaking! I asked the stones, 'Did you all work every day when you were alive?' The stones replied, 'Yes! I was a farmer. When I was ploughing the fields, the thing I hated most was finding stones in the soil. I had to dig them out one by one before I could plant the seeds. Who would have thought that after I died, I would become a stone?' I sighed and shook my head. 'A lifetime of work, only to become a stone after death. A lifetime of study, only to become an ant. Where is the value in any of this?'

The Path to the Western Pure Land

Every day, I went to the streets to play. Since no one was there to play with me, I played by myself. One day, I met a special child. He was about my age, very handsome, and could greet everyone with kindness. His mother also looked approachable, with a constant smile on her face. Their lives seemed very happy. What was even more special was that they were not rushing about working like everyone else; they walked through the streets at a leisurely pace. I curiously walked over and asked the child, 'Where are you going?' The child said to me, 'Namo Amituofo.' I asked in surprise, 'Namo Amituofo?' His mother quickly introduced herself: 'My son is preparing to become a monk this year. Learning the Buddha's teachings is his life's ambition. He hopes to use the Dharma to help everyone. Look at everyone on this street—they may look like they are just going about their daily work, but in reality, their hearts are suffering greatly. If we can help everyone understand the Buddha's teachings, they would not have to suffer so much.' I was overjoyed. I had finally met someone who shared my thoughts; finally, someone understood my heart. I asked the lady, 'By chanting this "Namo Amituofo," can we stop them from having to work?' The lady replied, 'It is not like that. Once they learn the Buddha's teachings, they will realise that this life is illusory. As long as one can get by, there is no need to be attached to earning more money. One can use that extra time to chant Namo Amituofo, at the very least to secure an opportunity for rebirth in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss.' The young boy, seeing my confused expression, invited me to join him the next day on the grassy field to the south to listen to a sutra lecture."

Namo Amituofo.

The following day, I arrived early at the grassy field to the south, waiting in anticipation. A monk appeared before us, and gradually, a growing crowd gathered—all of them there to listen to the teachings. I finally spotted the young boy. He sat beside me and whispered, 'The monk you see before us is today’s lecturer. He is about to expound the Dharma for us.' I looked at the monk. Every move he made was so steady and dignified. I, who had always been one to wear a cheeky grin, could not help but straighten my back and become serious. Watching this solemn lecturer, a thought crossed my mind: 'We are both lecturers, but my father’s temperament is vastly different from this monk’s.' The monk began to explain the Buddha’s teachings to everyone. He did not introduce dry, rigid scriptures; instead, he used the ecology of nature or the small details of daily life to explain the Dharma. He hoped that everyone could understand the Buddha’s teachings through their own lives and apply them to their daily routines. I felt such immense joy listening to this lecture. No one had ever been able to reveal the truth of life to me before. It turned out that life is truly an illusion, and that there is indeed a spiritual nature within all things. If one does not seize the opportunity in this lifetime, who knows where one will end up in the next?

A Shift in Path

My interest in the Buddha’s teachings grew deeper and deeper. I even began to take the initiative to go to the temple to listen to lectures, cherishing every opportunity to sit attentively and learn. My understanding of the Dharma grew, and under its nurturing influence, my heart became increasingly compassionate. I began to realise the importance of chanting the name 'Namo Amituofo,' which can save all spirits within the myriad things and help sentient beings achieve rebirth in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. However, less than a week later, my neighbours suddenly arrived at our home with baskets of vegetables and fruits they had grown themselves. They had come to thank my father: 'Thank you, Teacher Lu, for allowing Shunhe to go to school. He is so happy every single day now!' Shunhe and I, standing nearby, were trembling with fear. The secret of our school-swapping arrangement had been exposed. I confessed to my father: 'Yiqing does not want to study; Yiqing wants to learn the Buddha’s teachings.'

The Awakening of a Family

I introduced the Buddha’s teachings to my parents, helping them understand that the Dharma truly has the power to save people. To help them appreciate the preciousness of the Dharma even more, I even took them out to the streets to observe. We looked at all kinds of people, all suffering in the human world. The most pitiful ones were those who did not yet understand that life is suffering. If only they could know the Buddha’s teachings, I believed their lives would become vastly different. My parents had never really observed the people on the streets before. Once I explained it to them, they could see that everyone before us wore the mark of suffering on their faces. Their lives lacked purpose; they were either working incessantly or wasting their lives in idleness. Beyond taking my parents to witness the various states of human life, I took them along whenever there was an opportunity to hear a lecture. Their understanding of the Dharma grew steadily. A year passed, and my parents finally agreed to let me stop my formal schooling and go to the temple to study the Buddha’s teachings. My parents also began to learn, and my father, in particular, cleverly applied the Dharma to his educational methods to guide all his students.

A Lifetime of Contribution

After three years of study, Shunhe finally found his true goal in life. Instead of continuing his academic path, he chose to join me in learning the Buddha’s teachings. We lived in the temple for a long time, eventually becoming known as the 'twin monks' of the monastery. This life was certainly not lived in vain. We travelled everywhere to teach the Dharma and deliver sentient beings, and many were saved as a result. When I brought the Dharma to a medical clinic in the city, I unexpectedly encountered some of my father’s former students. The people who had once been so vibrant and successful now looked haggard, aged, and obese. My father, having learned the Buddha’s teachings, looked much younger and more radiant than they did. I introduced the Dharma to these people, telling them to seize the remainder of their lives to chant the Buddha’s name and seek rebirth in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss.

After Shunhe and I began our practice, we realised that we had been fellow disciples in the Buddha’s gate in a past life. Our karmic affinity brought us together again in this life, allowing us to be brothers in the Dharma once more and contribute together to the Buddha’s teachings. At the end of our lives, we both achieved rebirth in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss.

Universal Deliverance

Practitioner Su’s great work of Chao Du throughout the universe has spread far and wide, and I have been following along to assist in this deliverance. Every day, when the time comes, Practitioner Su, the Bodhisattvas of the universe, and the Venerables gather in a grand, magnificent procession and surge into the cosmos. In an instant, the large group would vanish, leaving only me behind. It turned out that with a wave of Practitioner Su’s hand, I was sent to my own specific space-time to perform Chao Du for the spirits of the universe with whom I shared a karmic connection. I go to different planets every day. Sometimes I visit more than one space-time, because throughout immeasurable eons, I have travelled across the universe. When Practitioner Su waves his hand, I am sent to several realms; all of these realms have a connection to me, and the number of spirits who have received deliverance is immeasurable and boundless. I am grateful to Practitioner Su for allowing me to contribute my humble efforts to help deliver sentient beings. I am learning from Practitioner Su that one must make progress and breakthroughs every single day to help more beings within the same amount of time. I will continue to learn from Practitioner Su. Gratitude to the compassion of the Buddha, and gratitude to the compassion of Practitioner Su.

Interviewed by the chief writer, Shi Fajing, on September 11, 2018, with the Venerable.

Namo Amituofo.