The Burden of a Literary Legacy

This is a record of an interview with Cao Xueqin, the renowned author of Dream of the Red Chamber, who sought deliverance 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 two hundred years ago. Recorded by the chief writer, Fa Ning, on March 8, 2026.

Cao Xueqin speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am Cao Xueqin. I imagine that most people have heard of my book, Dream of the Red Chamber, have they not? Looking back now at the novel I wrote and witnessing the immense influence it has exerted upon future generations, I cannot help but feel a subtle, lingering ache in my heart. It is not a legacy I am proud of.

I was born into a family of immense wealth during the Kangxi era, the most prosperous period of the Qing Dynasty. It was a golden age that so many dreamed of, a time that many still yearn for today. My life, however, is not as the world imagines it. While people know the book, they do not truly know the man. If you have heard of the story, or perhaps watched the films or television adaptations, you know it chronicles the rise and fall of several great families—a tapestry of complex human relationships, love, hatred, and the tangled web of worldly affairs. But let me tell you: the words described in that book were not the words of the true Cao Xueqin. They were written by a man caught in a state of extreme emotional complexity, a man whose hand was guided by the spirits of other beings. It was not a story I truly wished to tell.

A Life of Opulence and Sudden Ruin

I was born into a family that served as the trusted confidants of the Kangxi Emperor for generations. We were incredibly wealthy, living a life where we wanted for nothing. In such an illustrious environment, I grew up like any other privileged child—I had everything I desired. I was raised amidst the arts: the zither, chess, calligraphy, painting, poetry, and literature. I was nurtured into a romantic, sensitive soul. At that time, I knew nothing of the suffering of the world. I lived entirely within my own bubble, enjoying the material and emotional abundance provided by my family.

However, my mind was always exceptionally delicate. From the perspective of Buddhist practice, one might say I thought too much; I was a person who easily created his own afflictions. My compassion manifested as a soft heart, and whenever I saw those suffering, I would naturally feel a sense of pity and a desire to help. Yet, because my character was somewhat fragile and I had been raised in an environment shielded from the harsh realities of life, this sensitivity became a source of great suffering for me later on.

The Fall of a Dynasty

Everything changed when the Kangxi Emperor passed away. A few years into the reign of the new Yongzheng Emperor, my family was accused of embezzling public funds during our service to the late emperor. We were unable to repay such a massive debt. In an instant, the Yongzheng Emperor ordered our home to be raided and our assets confiscated. Everything was gone. The servants scattered, and my family was left with nothing. We moved to a small place in Beijing, and the days of luxury were replaced by a life of poverty, relying on the charity of others just to survive.

The contrast between our former glory and our sudden ruin was devastating. I could not find a way to reconcile my heart with this reality. My delicate mind made me a deeply melancholic youth. At barely ten years old, having experienced the pinnacle of prosperity only to lose it all, I watched my family weep and suffer. Without the guidance of proper education, I gradually lost my way in life. I had been a boy full of hope for the future, but suddenly, that hope vanished. I did not realise then that the hope of a human life should not be built upon personal glory, material enjoyment, or the display of one's talents. I began to live, step by step, inside a world of my own creation.

Controlled by Forces Beyond My Own

I have said that because of this deep-seated melancholy and the complexity of my heart, I was controlled by other beings from a very young age—I believe I was only about ten years old at the time. Even while my family was still living in luxury, I was already no longer the master of my own mind. I could not live a simple, carefree, and natural childhood. I was destined to be different, and my path was shaped by the collective karma of my family and the pull of my own karmic retribution.

Today, I have been saved by the compassion of Namo Amituofo and Practitioner Su. I have been reborn, sitting upon a lotus in the Western Land of Dharma Nature, looking back at the dust of the human world. When I see how much effort later generations put into researching my personality or trying to understand why I wrote Dream of the Red Chamber, I can only respond with a laugh. Ha! It is truly amusing. I can only say that the imagination of later generations is remarkably rich and colourful. In truth, I lived my entire life in sorrow. I was poor, I had few entertainments, and I spent my time drinking a little wine with friends and telling stories. I was poor in pocket but proud in spirit, though that pride served no real purpose. In the end, I left behind this book, and the world went mad for it. I sit here now, and I truly do not know what to say. Does this book have any real value? Can it guide people toward a life of peace and stability? It seems not.

This is not to look down upon my own work, but now that I am clear-headed, I look at the intricate details I once penned and I understand: it was my own delicate, complex mind that attracted the beings who controlled my brush. They shared the same attributes as the sorrow I carried within me."

"However, I sincerely counsel future generations: the book Dream of the Red Chamber was merely a novel I wrote while lost in confusion, unable to govern my own mind. Whether readers find it moving or mundane is, in truth, of little importance. Here in the Western Land of Dharma Nature, I have witnessed the talents displayed by writers, artists, and gifted individuals from across the globe. If their work truly inspires the world, then one must observe it with great care and discernment. If a person’s words or writings can lead society and the world toward positive development, transforming the human heart from evil to Goodness, and from defilement to purity, then perhaps such a book or novel is worthy of praise. But if a novel only leaves readers feeling unsatisfied, trapped in a whirlpool of complex, unspoken emotions, or weeping alongside the protagonists while living within a vortex of sentimentality, then it is not worthy of any praise at all—in fact, it creates immense karmic debt. I, Cao Xueqin, was a man of no true talent or ability, and by writing Dream of the Red Chamber, I created immeasurable and boundless sins. So many people, having read this book, have lived within it involuntarily, unable to extricate themselves, planting their entire Body-Mind-Spirit into its pages. I have even heard that in later generations, people have established a field of study called 'Redology' just to research this book.

The Illusion of Sentiment and the Clarity of the Dharma

What frustrates me, Cao Xueqin, is that Dream of the Red Chamber only leads people into deeper, more complex states of mind and emotional entanglement. It fosters a deeper attachment to an illusory world and fuels cravings that one cannot stop. Are people truly yearning for the lives of the characters in Dream of the Red Chamber, or are they using the tragedies of these characters to view their own lives? No matter the mindset with which one reads this book, one cannot obtain anything related to kindness or compassion from it. Everything the Buddha’s teachings say about Goodness and virtue—which I have learned while listening to the sutras and hearing the Dharma here in the Western Land of Dharma Nature—is truly filled with Dharma joy. Every word spoken by Practitioner Su is a golden rule, and the Dharma words of Namo Amituofo constantly orbit my ears. The Dharma taught here is pure and virtuous, guiding everyone toward the path of Goodness. It is simply a matter of chanting 'Namo Amituofo' to the very end; everyone can attain Buddhahood. Such a world is equal, free, pure, and follows conditions—how wonderful it is! Why would people still yearn for a world as turbid and complex as that of Dream of the Red Chamber? Regardless of what I, Cao Xueqin, intended to express at the time, this book has brought too much defilement to future generations and fostered unhealthy character traits, even if it contains both good and evil, and various characters and stories woven together.

A Final Plea to the World

Regarding such a story, I, Cao Xueqin, now solemnly tell the world: let us stop reading Dream of the Red Chamber. If you wish for my karmic sins to be lightened, perhaps you can convey this message to the world. I know the sins I created out of ignorance are heavy, but now that I have arrived in the Western Land of Dharma Nature, I cannot make amends for what I did in the past. I can only sincerely wish for everyone to walk the path of practicing the Buddha’s teachings. The fact that Namo Amituofo truly abides at Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre is a reality; please, I urge you to believe in the Buddha and believe that you, too, can practice diligently and attain Buddhahood.

From Hell to the Pure Land

My own tragic life ended in my forties. Because of the many burdens I kept hidden in my heart, I lived in melancholy and passed away before fifty, descending directly to report to the King of Hell. Because of the verbal karma I created and the influence I had on future generations, I spent perhaps one or two hundred years suffering retribution in hell, lost and confused. I knew I was wrong, and I did experience moments of repenting, but at that time, my mind was not as clear or bright as it is now.

Returning to the human world in spirit, I see that Dream of the Red Chamber can be found in every bookstore and is played on many television dramas. Seeing the magnitude of the influence I caused, I no longer have a shred of arrogance or the defiant spirit I once held. I am left only with profound shame and regret, yet it is all to no avail. Now, I have finally escaped from the painful space created by this book, thanks to the great spirit of salvation of Namo Amituofo and Practitioner Su. They have allowed me and so many other suffering spirits from China to enter this true Buddha-land—the Western Land of Dharma Nature—by way of the Twelve Lights of Amitabha Buddha. My heart is filled with nothing but gratitude; there is no possibility of receiving such a second chance at salvation. My once tragic life, and the retribution that followed its end, now seem like nothing as I sit upon a lotus in the Western Land of Dharma Nature. Looking back at those hundreds of years of life, it was truly illusory, not real at all—I was merely living under the control of others.

The Path of True Awakening

The Cao Xueqin of today is thoroughly awakened. I only wish to follow Namo Amituofo and Practitioner Su, to practice and chant Buddha’s name honestly and earnestly, to rectify the human heart, and to tell the world of the importance of chanting and practicing the Buddha’s teachings. And—I apologize for repeating this so often—please do not read Dream of the Red Chamber again. These are the words of my true heart, and I hope they serve as a mirror for you all. My life is the best example of the laws of karma and cause and effect. You should understand that although I was a man of talent, I was not free, nor did I live a truly happy life; I was entirely a child being manipulated by others.

I, Cao Xueqin, now sincerely counsel all writers, artists, actors, singers, and those engaged in artistic creation in this world: your actions, your words, and even every word you write with your brush can have a profound impact on contemporary society and future generations. You can guide the social atmosphere, or you can lead society toward moral decline. My example should serve as a mirror for the talented people of the world. My suffering in hell was a case of 'heavy sin, light retribution,' and the karma I created is likely something I cannot repay in this lifetime. This is something I deeply regret and cannot rectify. Only by following the Buddha and chanting 'Namo Amituofo' with a single, focused heart can I perhaps help diminish some of these sins.

The Buddha is now smiling and nodding at me with such compassion; I know the Buddha is affirming my change of heart and my current actions. My true inner reflection is meant to explain to the world that the laws of karma and cause and effect are precise and unfailing. Only by truly practicing the Buddha’s teachings and realizing one's true nature to attain Buddhahood can one walk a path of life that is ultimate and perfect. The vast number of young students in China must listen to my words: keep to your duties and be a good person. If you can come to know the Buddha’s teachings, that would be the most wonderful thing of all. I sincerely wish that each of you can perfectly accomplish the Buddha-way.

Namo Amituofo.

Cao Xueqin"