The Arena of Vanity and the Path to Deliverance

This is a record of an interview with Lu Zhenren, a martial artist from the Southern Song Dynasty who sought Chao Du at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Dharma-Nature Land. This account reflects upon his life approximately eight hundred years ago. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa, on March 6, 2026.

Lu Zhenren speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am Lu Zhenren. I remember standing on the arena stage, dressed in my special martial arts attire, striking my opening pose. When I extended my right hand and spoke the word 'please' to my opponent, it was a gesture of the utmost sincerity—a way of showing respect while testing the skills of another.

Back then, in the region of Zhejiang, there were many formidable fighters who hoped to make a name for themselves through these public matches. We called it 'da lei'—the 'lei' referring to the arena stage. You must understand, these arenas were not the life-and-death deathmatches you see in modern dramas. While they were intense, a significant portion of these events was performative. The Southern Song government had very strict legal regulations in place: first, anyone who caused injury would face severe punishment; second, anyone who took a life would inevitably be hunted down by the authorities. Even if two fighters signed a 'death contract' behind closed doors, claiming that neither side would pursue legal action regardless of the outcome, it remained a criminal act under the laws of the Southern Song dynasty.

The Glamour of the Hangzhou Arena

The arenas were filled with truly talented individuals and masters of various arts. However, I must be honest: these matches were often spectacles. Hangzhou was the capital of the Southern Song, a city of immense commercial and economic prosperity. The population was vast, and the people—even the Emperor himself—had a profound interest in watching these martial arts performances. We, the professional fighters who made our living in the arena, shared a silent understanding. In such an environment, there was no need to resort to true violence or fight to the death. Instead, we aimed to display our exquisite martial skills within controlled limits. This allowed the audience to enjoy the show while we secured our fame and fortune.

I was one of the most prominent fighters in those arenas. At the time, sumo wrestling was a highly refined skill, and the crowds loved watching the masters clash. Beyond sumo, I was also a master of the spear. In modern terms, my 'repertoire' was quite broad, which gave me more opportunities to perform. While the environment and legal constraints limited us, we were certainly not just 'empty shells.' Many masters with deep family lineages and genuine, lethal skills participated in these matches. The prize money was generous, and the social climate did not view this as shameful; rather, it was a trend. We were proud to participate. Sometimes, the Emperor would even grace us with his presence, which was a massive boost to our prospects. It was a golden age for martial arts, a time when heroes from all corners gathered to create legends.

A Tragic Turn of Fate

If I am to be completely honest, the primary reason I became a professional fighter was for fame and profit. Later, I hoped that my lifelong dedication to martial arts would be recognised by the Emperor himself. Finally, the opportunity I had been waiting for arrived. A grand competition was announced, and the Emperor declared he would attend in person. Every master was pushing themselves to the limit, desperate for a chance to shine before the throne.

I seized that opportunity with everything I had. In the final match, I faced another master. I never expected that my opponent, blinded by the desire for the Emperor's favour, would strike with such ruthless, heavy force. I was caught off guard and suffered a devastating injury. In the end, he was promoted by the Emperor, while I was left broken on the ground. Because it was a match held before the throne, he faced no repercussions for his actions.

After that injury, my health deteriorated rapidly. Combined with the deep depression that consumed my heart, I passed away just three years later, at the age of forty-five. After death, I became a spirit, tethered to the vicinity of the arena. I drifted there, day after day, hoping to reclaim the glory I had lost, but the world had moved on. I could never return to those days of splendour.

Deliverance and the Light of Namo Amituofo

Eight hundred years passed in what felt like a blink of an eye. Then, I encountered a brilliant, golden light. Within that light, I was guided into the Western Dharma-Nature Land at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre. It was only after arriving there that I learned of Practitioner Su, a Buddha who has been actively performing Chao Du across the land of China. Countless suffering souls have been led by Practitioner Su into this Buddha-land. When I realised this, I was filled with immense gratitude.

Those eight hundred years of wandering as a spirit felt like they vanished in an instant. Here in the Western Dharma-Nature Land, I feel the energy of the Buddha-light shining upon me. Listening to the sound of the 'Namo Amituofo' Buddha-name echoing in my ears, I feel as though I have been transformed. I am so happy, and I chant along with the name of Namo Amituofo.

The Truth of Existence

It was only after listening to the Dharma talks that I understood the truth: once a person develops attachments, they become trapped in a specific space. I realised that the physical body is merely a temporary vessel, while the spirit is unborn and undying. In my past life, I never knew these truths. I never understood that one must take one hundred percent responsibility for the destination of their own spirit. I only grasped this after hearing Practitioner Su speak the Dharma here in the Land of Dharma Nature. For me, it feels like it came late, as I no longer have a body, but I have made a vow to be reborn in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. I am working hard to chant the Buddha's name, hoping that one day I can descend from the Western Pure Land to save other sentient beings who have karmic affinities.

Namo Amituofo is radiating brilliant light across the four hundred acres of the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre. I see so many spirits there, and when they behold the towering, majestic form of Namo Amituofo, they cannot help but kneel in gratitude and pay their respects. It is only because the Buddha is present in this world that we have a chance to be saved. The Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre is truly a ray of hope in this human world, and it is a place worthy of everyone coming to seek the Dharma. I have been incredibly fortunate to receive the benefits of the Dharma, and I hope that those who read this article can also receive such blessings.

Gratitude to Namo Amituofo. Gratitude to Practitioner Su.

Namo Amituofo.

Lu Zhenren"