The Awakening of Hu Mengcang

This is a record of an interview with Hu Mengcang, who lived approximately 1,100 years ago. He sought deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia and now resides in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa, on November 21, 2019.

Hu Mengcang speaks:

"Mengcang, quickly blow out the candle! We must save that little bit of wax for tomorrow." My sister spoke these words and immediately lay down on the bed. I replied, "I understand." I was just one stitch away from finishing the shoe I was mending, so I hurried my hands, terrified of wasting the last of our candle. Once the flame was extinguished, I slowly made my way to the bedside and curled up under the covers, preparing for sleep. In that biting cold, our tattered, thin quilt provided almost no warmth. I kept rubbing my feet together, trying to generate enough friction to feel even a sliver of heat so that I might finally drift off into a dream.

A Life of Biting Cold

At dawn, I dressed in my thin, worn clothes and headed up the mountain alone to gather firewood. The wind was piercing, cutting through me like a knife. I ran forward with my bare feet, and soon, the physical exertion brought a wave of warmth that chased away the chill that had settled deep into my bones. After a great deal of effort, I finally managed to chop several bundles of wood. I hoisted them onto my back, ready to return home so my sister could cook our meal. Along the way, I felt a parching thirst. The leaves of the plants by the roadside were still coated in the morning dew. I plucked a few leaves, sucked the moisture from their surfaces, and then crushed them to extract the remaining juice into my mouth. The bitter, sweet, and astringent taste of the grass instantly stimulated my saliva, and I no longer felt that unbearable, dry agony.

When I returned home, my sister looked at my feet in shock and cried out, "How did your feet get covered in so much blood?" I looked down and saw that, indeed, my feet were stained crimson. I had no idea what sharp object I had stepped on along the way. My feet were so frozen that I had lost all sensation; they were as numb as if they had no nerves at all. I grabbed a piece of cloth, dampened it with a little water, and wiped away the blood. The wounds were already sealed by clotted blood, so they had stopped bleeding. I had become accustomed to such things; when you walk barefoot on the earth, it is inevitable that you will be injured, and I did not think much of it.

The Tragedy of a Father's Fall

My sister used the very last of our firewood to boil two bowls of thin porridge for our morning meal. There were hardly any grains of rice in the water; it was impossible to call it a meal that would stop the hunger, but it served to warm our stomachs. As I sat at the table, I gazed out the window at the large tree that had watched us grow up. There were several notches carved into its trunk—marks our father had scraped with a stone. One side was for me, and the other was for my sister. Each notch represented our height for that year. I counted them, but the marks stopped at the previous year and never continued, because that was the year our father left us forever.

Our home was originally a family of three: Father, my sister, and me. From the time I was small, Father took care of us. Although his legs were crippled and he had difficulty moving, he would still lean on his crutches and go to the vegetable patch to tend the crops. The plot of land was not large; it was a small, low-lying area beside a ditch. It did not belong to us, but a kind neighbour, Uncle Wang, had graciously allowed us to use it to sustain our lives. Though it was only a small garden, it was enough to keep the three of us alive. Every day, after Father harvested the vegetables, my sister would push our wooden cart to the market to sell them. I would follow closely by her side, learning everything Father and my sister did. Our daily income was just enough to keep us fed; there was never any extra money for luxuries. Such a life did not allow for any delusions or cravings, so we had no desires at all. In that simple, ordinary life, we cherished the time we spent together even more.

However, a torrential rainstorm the year before last stole our father's life. The rain poured down in sheets, and water began to drip incessantly inside our home. As the storm intensified, the leaking grew worse. A sudden, violent gust of wind tore a large hole in our roof. Father had no choice but to climb up to cover it with the last piece of wood and a sandbag we had. My sister and I watched him climb up, swaying unsteadily, and we were breakin' a sweat with fear. In an instant, there was a loud "thud!" Father fell from the roof, his head striking a stone directly, and he collapsed, unable to rise. My sister and I screamed in terror. She braved the storm to beg a doctor to come and save him, but no one was willing to risk their life in such weather. By the time we finally found a kind doctor, Father had already passed away, leaving us forever. I gripped my sister's hand, and I could feel her trembling. In that moment, we were truly lost. Father lay on the bed, and we wept bitterly, calling out, "Father! Father!" but he could never speak to us again.

Loyalty Amidst Desperation

The year Father passed away was a time of immense suffering. Losing him was like losing the light in our lives; before us lay a vast, impenetrable darkness, and we had no idea how to go on. My sister and I were left to rely on each other. We could not get used to many things, because without Father, our home felt like a play that had lost its lead actor—it could no longer perform its brilliant scenes.

I do not know why, but in our village, it was said that we were cursed with a lack of men. Every household had more women than men, and many of the men would die in accidents when they reached their prime. This was a mystery that baffled the villagers, and no matter how many rituals they performed, they could never resolve the conflict of this strange phenomenon. When the villagers learned of Father's death, many families without heirs came to our home, offering large sums of money to buy me as their son. Most of these were wealthy, noble people in the village. My sister saw that I was still young and that our home was destitute, with no money to raise me. She said to me, "Mengcang, as long as you nod your head, you can go from being a child of a poor person to the son of a wealthy family. This is an opportunity not everyone gets. Why are you still hesitating? Following your sister only means suffering. Think about your own life!" Although she said this, I could see the reluctance in her eyes, and they were even brimming with tears. After Father left, my sister and I relied on each other, living an even more impoverished life, sometimes relying on the charity of neighbours just to have something to eat. I could not abandon my sister at such a time to enjoy the life of a wealthy family alone. So, I told my sister, "No matter how hard life gets, I will always be a descendant of the Hu family." When my sister saw the determination in my eyes, she seemed to let out a sigh of relief, nodded, and said nothing more. From then on, no matter how much money the wealthy families brought to our door, my sister would never sell me, because I would always be a descendant of the Hu family.

The Rise of a Young Merchant

My sister was four years older than me. The year Father died, I was seven, and she was eleven. In this village where men were valued over women, many women worked barefoot, especially those from poor families. To the villagers, they had no value at all; they were born only to work and were not allowed to enjoy anything. Men, on the other hand, were pampered, sitting idle while women served them. Under these circumstances, the village's productivity was quite limited, as women had to work and care for children, leaving them no time for much else. But Father had not taught me that way. He always told me, "Only those who can work have blessings." Therefore, I tried to do everything I was capable of doing.

At seven, I began to learn how to be an independent boy. I started to explore how to do everything Father used to do, because there was no longer a father to look after us. I had to go out and find work. No matter how little it paid, it could at least supplement our household and lighten my sister's burden. I took on several jobs, working day and night without rest. The money I earned was enough to sustain us, and even left us with some silver each month. Even so, I continued to work, never stopping, as if no amount of money could satisfy my desires. My life was consumed by these efforts.

My luck was extraordinary. When I was fourteen, I met a noble person who helped and promoted me. He was a merchant who taught me many business skills and even gave me a hand, helping me start my own trade. Although this work carried higher risks, it allowed me to accumulate great wealth rapidly. I used the money I earned to buy my sister beautiful clothes, shoes, and ornaments. Then, I renovated our home, and eventually, I even bought a brand-new house for my sister to live in. Wealth poured in, and it felt like I was dreaming. I could not believe that I would ever become rich! Everything had come so suddenly that even my sister could not adapt to all these changes.

The entire village was gossiping about my success. They all envied me for meeting such a great noble person, and they found it inconceivable that I could go from a pauper to a millionaire! More and more people began to flatter me. Some said that for someone so young to achieve such things, I would surely have extraordinary accomplishments in the future. Others said that I was the glory of the Hu family and that it was due to our ancestral virtue. They recalled how, when those wealthy families had offered so much money to buy me as their son, I had refused to leave the Hu family. They claimed our ancestors must have been protecting us from the shadows, knowing all along that I would one day bring honour to our lineage! Everywhere I went, everyone praised me, and I seemed to accept their compliments, gradually feeling that I truly was an incredible little adult."

"My ambition grew ever larger. I invested in more and more businesses, desperate to accumulate greater wealth. I used every cent I earned to satisfy my insatiable desires, yet those desires were never truly fulfilled. Whenever I was alone, I felt a gnawing emptiness that I tried to mask by spending even more money. I was never short of women around me; my wealth allowed me to buy whoever I wanted, and I could easily replace them day after day. I had completely transformed into someone else—a person so different that even my sister could barely recognise me as her brother. She could no longer bear to watch my descent. One day, she roared at me, 'Meng Cang! Do you even know what you are doing with your life? If I had known you would turn into this, I would have preferred we stayed in poverty rather than seeing you become this monster. Even Father would not be able to bear the sight of you!' I did not understand what she was talking about. My mind was entirely consumed by the pursuit of profit and the indulgence of my spending. I wondered, what could I have possibly done wrong? My sister had never spoken to me with such intensity before, and for a moment, I was truly stunned. Before she left, she told me she was moving back to our old, dilapidated shack. She turned and walked away without a single glance back. I watched her retreating figure, my heart filled with confusion. I still did not know where I had gone wrong."

A Moment of Clarity by the River

"One day, I rode a common horse to the riverbank, left it there, and walked along the embankment alone. In that moment, I felt as if I were a stranger to myself. It had been so long since I had experienced such stillness. I found an empty patch of ground and lay down. A gentle breeze brushed against my face, and I listened quietly to the sounds of nature. I had felt this kind of ease and comfort once before, back when Father was still alive. I was suddenly pulled back into childhood memories. It felt as if I had become a completely different person in just a few short years, yet I had not noticed it at all. If my sister had not shouted at me that day, I would likely still be lost in the mire of greed and desire. Just then, a young boy playing with a ball ran past, pulling his mother along. 'When I grow up, I will definitely earn a lot of money for you, Mother! Then you won't have to worry about money anymore!' the boy said. His mother laughed and replied, 'Good, good, you are the best! Then I can live a happy life every day!' A tear rolled down my cheek. I had once said those exact words to my father and sister—that when I grew up, I would earn a fortune to give them a life free from worry. Now, I had earned so much money that I could never spend it all, but Father was gone; he had passed away without ever enjoying a single day of it. And my sister, though she lived in the luxury I provided, had lost the radiant smile she once possessed. No one was happy because of my wealth. What was the point of all this money I had earned?"

The Mirror of the Dharma

"'Life is not lived for oneself,' a man said. I looked around and saw a master standing by the riverbank. I quickly stood up and walked toward him, asking, 'Master, were you speaking to me just now?' The master turned and looked at me with such compassion that I was completely stunned. Why did this master's face look exactly like my own? I wanted to look closer, but he vanished from my sight. A fallen leaf landed on my face, and it jolted me awake. 'So, it was just a dream!' I sat up, reflecting on everything I had just experienced. My heart suddenly opened up, and I shouted, 'So that is it! So that is it! So that is it!' I ran and jumped, eager to find my sister. I had found it—I had finally found it!"

Returning to the True Self

"I returned to the old, dilapidated house, which was filled with memories of the three of us. My sister was carrying a basin of washwater out to pour it away. I shouted, 'Sister! Sister!' She did not look back and immediately tried to walk inside, so I hurried to catch up with her. She asked, 'I just scolded you, and now you act as if nothing happened? I truly do not recognise you as my brother anymore!' Regardless of what she said, I looked at her with a beaming smile. She asked in confusion, 'What are you smiling about?' I told her excitedly, 'I found it! I finally found it!' She was still puzzled: 'Found what?' I replied, 'I found myself!' I told her everything that had happened that day, explaining the whole story, and then said to her, 'It was the true self within my heart that awakened me. All these days, I have been lost in desire, deceived by this physical body! Whatever this body wanted, I satisfied; if it wanted more money, I worked to earn it. If it wanted pleasure, I spent money to indulge it. I satisfied every whim, yet I never realised that this body is never satisfied! Instead, I grew cold toward my heart. The true self within was still waiting—waiting for the day I would find myself again.' My sister asked, 'What do you mean by finding yourself?' I told her, 'Do you remember when Father took us to a temple when we were children? When I entered and saw that radiant Buddha, I felt as if He were speaking to me. I was too young to understand what it meant, but now, as I recall it, I finally understand: it is the phrase "not living for oneself." Only when one truly stops living for oneself can one find true happiness.' My sister understood what I meant. She smiled, moved to tears, and said, 'You have finally returned!'"

The Path of Namo Amituofo

"I sat before the Buddha, and the master pointed to a large tree outside the door, asking, 'The wind does not cease; when will the tree be still?' I looked at the tree and replied to the master, 'When the heart does not move, everything is in purity.' The master nodded with a smile. For ten years, the master taught me only to chant the holy name of 'Namo Amituofo.' In a complicated life, one only needs to return to the original simplicity. This Buddha-name cleansed all the filth from my being. I chanted until my heart was empty, until I forgot the self, until every sound entered the Buddha, until everything existed in a formless, natural state. In that moment, I truly found myself. Returning to the most authentic self is the empty state of no-self; it is natural and unforced. It is living in the world as if one were not there, while the heart has long since settled in the Western Pure Land, no longer lingering in this world."

The Wisdom of Liberation

"To let go of everything is to let go of all suffering; to put it down is to set aside a heavy burden. The world is entirely illusory. To view it as real within the illusion is to suffer in one's own heart, not because of others. Since we have come to the human world, we must learn to see the truth within the illusion. That truth is the purity and meditative concentration of the heart. It is the true liberation from all dust, chanting the Buddha's name, and attaining rebirth in the Western Pure Land with ease."

The Compassion of Practitioner Su

"Those who awaken and act are the true victors, the free ones, the liberated ones. Practitioner Su truly acts in this world. Having heard the Dharma and awakened in middle age, he carries out the work of saving the world, sacrificing himself for others, seeing only the suffering of beings. His Dharma Body was not attained out of thin air; it is the result of a heart that has truly awakened and acts accordingly. No matter where he is, his heart and actions are always within the Buddha. Every morning, when the Buddha-name begins to resonate, his Dharma Body flies freely into the cosmic starry sky. Immeasurable and boundless sentient beings are all waiting for Practitioner Su to save them. With his compassionate heart, Practitioner Su sees only the suffering of beings everywhere. If he delivers them for one day, immeasurable beings are saved. Therefore, he never wastes a single day; every moment is spent among the beings, and there is not a single instant that is not dedicated to Chao Du."

A Vow to Save the World

"In the face of the current chaos in the world, Practitioner Su is even more proactive in his salvation. It is as if he faces a massive fire, yet he moves forward bravely without fear. The more the world suffers, the greater the vow Practitioner Su makes. No matter how difficult it is to save beings, as long as he has a breath left in the human world, Practitioner Su is willing to sacrifice his own physical comfort to help beings attain liberation and leave suffering behind as soon as possible."

"I am deeply grateful for Practitioner Su's compassionate salvation of the world."

"Namo Amituofo."

"This interview was recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa Jing, a disciple of the Buddha."

"The Venerable Father: The late Hu Jinchang (In the spiritual space, his soul has been invited to the Western Land of Dharma Nature at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre)."