The Blacksmith’s Eternal Armour

This is a record of an interview with Gu Wenliang, who sought Chao Du at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Land of Dharma Nature. This account reflects upon his life approximately 1,350 years ago. Recorded by the chief writer, Fa Ning, on March 7, 2026.

Gu Wenliang speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am Gu Wenliang. I was born during the reign of Emperor Taizong of the Tang Dynasty in the city of Chang'an. My family was incredibly poor; we lived in a home where the walls were bare and our resources were scarce. My father was a humble blacksmith, and as an only child, the three of us relied entirely on one another to survive. The Emperor at that time was a man of immense ambition. He had a great need for high-quality ironware, and he issued a decree to summon the most talented blacksmiths in the land to serve the state. For a blacksmith in those days, this was an opportunity of a lifetime. Countless craftsmen from across the empire gathered their tools and their unique techniques and were travelling to Chang'an.

The Emperor’s Decree and the Search for Sharpness

The Emperor issued a specific challenge: we were to forge a weapon, and the one who created the sharpest blade would be granted an official position and a generous reward. However, there was a catch—the weapon had to be something that could be mass-produced for the common soldier. Under these conditions, everyone scrambled to forge a weapon that represented the pinnacle of their life's work and skills. My father, however, took a different approach. He focused on durability. He forged a weapon that could be used more times than any other, one that would not break or dull easily under the rigours of combat.

The other blacksmiths focused entirely on sharpness. Because the Emperor had explicitly stated that the sharpest weapon would win, the blacksmith who achieved that goal was indeed granted the official position, along with vast amounts of gold and silk. Yet, it was fascinating to see that the Emperor remained deeply intrigued by my father’s durable, long-lasting weapon. He summoned my father to the palace and asked, 'I called for the sharpest weapon to be selected, so why have you chosen to forge the most durable one instead?'

A Lesson in Compassion and Statecraft

My father knelt before the Emperor and spoke with great courage: 'Your Majesty, under your wise rule, the Tang Dynasty is at the peak of its prosperity. Weapons are instruments of misfortune. If we need weapons now, I believe they must be for the purpose of defending our homes and our country, not for expanding our borders. For defence, durability is paramount so that our soldiers can protect the nation for as long as possible. For expansion, one needs the greatest lethality, which requires maximum sharpness. I believe the Great Tang does not lack sharp weapons, but it does lack weapons that can endure the trials of time. That is why I chose this path.'

My father had long realised that the Emperor’s search for the sharpest weapon was a precursor to launching foreign wars. He could not bear the thought of the hard-won peace being shattered by conflict, nor could he stand the thought of how many lives would be sacrificed on the battlefield. Even though he had no desire for official rank or wealth, he chose to use his craft to offer counsel to the Emperor. He hoped that his words might cause the Emperor to reconsider, perhaps saving countless lives in the process. While the Emperor did not abandon his plans for war, he did become more cautious. He even ordered that my father’s durable weapons be issued to the army, giving our soldiers a better chance of survival in the heat of battle.

From Weapons to Protection

Watching my father’s actions stirred something deep within me. From that day forward, I changed my own path as a blacksmith. I stopped focusing on weapons and turned my attention to armour. In the Tang Dynasty, a blacksmith was essentially a blacksmith for life; even if you gained an official title, you were merely an administrator of the forge, never a governor of a province. Despite being unable to escape my fate as a craftsman, I was determined to use my skills to serve the country in a way that aligned with my conscience.

I devised a method to create superior armour, ensuring that our soldiers would have a much higher chance of surviving both offensive campaigns and defensive sieges. I developed a new technique that significantly increased the durability and defensive capabilities of the armour. I was filled with joy, knowing that these pieces were not meant to harm others, but to protect the lives of those who wore them. I dedicated my entire life to this pursuit. I was content as a blacksmith, and I am eternally grateful for my father’s example, which showed me the correct path to walk.

Thirteen Centuries of Silence

After I passed away, my spirit became trapped within the space of a suit of armour—the very latest and finest model I had ever created. I remained inside that armour, my spirit never leaving it, for one thousand three hundred and fifty years. It was a long, cold, and silent existence, drifting through the currents of time while bound to the metal I had once laboured over so lovingly.

Then, quite recently, the space I inhabited was suddenly flooded with brilliant golden light. The space was opened, and that golden light enveloped my spirit. I felt a warmth I had not known for centuries. I followed that light and arrived at the Western Land of Dharma Nature at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre. It was only after listening to the Dharma there that I understood: it was Practitioner Su, who, under the guidance of Namo Amituofo and the Twelve Lights, travelled to China to open up five thousand years of history, allowing me to be saved.

Joining the Salvation Team

Watching Practitioner Su perform the Chao Du at the temple was a truly magnificent sight. I had never imagined that a human being could accomplish such a feat, nor did I know that such a method existed to help beings in the spirit realm. Now, I too wish to join the salvation team of Namo Amituofo to help save beings. Having listened to the sutras and heard the Dharma, I finally understand that while the human body will die, the spirit does not perish. Helping the soul is the most important task of all. Practitioner Su’s work in China is truly a rescue of the spirits lost throughout five thousand years of history.

Every day, I sit upon my lotus seat, listening to the Dharma and chanting 'Namo Amituofo.' I feel such immense joy, and I hope to have the opportunity to do even more for all beings. I am deeply grateful to Namo Amituofo and to Practitioner Su for this deliverance.

Namo Amituofo."