This is a record of an interview with Ruan Yicheng, a spirit who sought deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. This account reflects upon his life and his subsequent service as a guard in the underworld. Recorded by the chief writer, Venerable HaiZe, on March 18, 2020.
Venerable HaiZe: I respectfully invite Ruan Yicheng, the representative of the sixty prison guards being sent to the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss today, to accept this interview.
Ruan Yicheng speaks:
"Ruan Yicheng and the sixty other prison guards have already been led by Practitioner Su into the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. We are deeply grateful for Practitioner Su's life-saving grace. We, the sixty prison guards, bow in gratitude to the Buddha.
I am Ruan Yicheng. From a young age, my mother and I relied solely on each other. My father passed away in an accident shortly after I was born, leaving us separated by the veil of life and death forever. The last words I remember my parents sharing were my father saying to my mother before he left, 'Take good care of our son; I will be back soon.' Who could have known that he would never return? My mother had to raise me on her own, and I became the only strength that kept her going.
The Art of the Needle and the Heart
My mother was a skilled embroiderer. Her work—whether landscapes, elegant ladies, fish, shrimp, or horses—was so lifelike that it drew praise from everyone. From small pieces to large, intricate tapestries, her work was highly sought after by our neighbours and the people in town as gifts or for their own homes. As a child, I learned the art of threading needles from her, becoming fast and precise. By focusing my eyes on the needle and thread, I could make them move as one, bringing all sorts of patterns to life under my mother's guidance. Growing up in such an environment, I naturally joined her in her embroidery work.
My small hands would hold the fabric, stitching here and there, which I found quite fascinating. Seeing that I was picking it up so well, my mother came over to teach me a few techniques. What seemed like a simple up-and-down motion actually involved complex turns, hooking, cornering, knotting, and various lengths of stitches. Some of these delicate movements were difficult for my small, chubby hands, but others I mastered with ease. My mother eventually let me experiment freely, not minding that I was a boy. I did not know then that there was a distinction between men and women, or that the work of our hands might differ. Regardless, between my running and playing, embroidery became my greatest interest. To my surprise, when my work was displayed alongside my mother's, people noticed it and even asked for the price. Without much fuss, my mother sold my first piece.
It was a small green frog. I had spent a long time sitting by the pond, watching the frog—observing its colours, its round, rotating eyes, and the way its four legs jumped forward with such power. The movement was so fast that I had to watch it several times before I dared to place my needle! It made me realise that life is full of details we usually overlook. Only when I stopped to truly look did I realise that completing a single piece of work was no simple task. That was my first embroidery at the age of seven. With my mother's encouragement, I continued to complete more pieces, and without realising it, I developed a more refined heart and sharper observation skills than other children my age. Gradually, many people came to know the little boy who could embroider.
The Weight of
As I grew older, I could work on pieces together with my mother. She would conceive the composition, colours, size, and proportions, but I could offer suggestions. If she accepted one, I would be overjoyed for days, as I knew how high her standards were. My work tended to lean towards the masculine, while my mother's and my wife's work remained soft and delicate. I believe that heaven creates everyone for a purpose; by placing me in such a rare position, I broke the stereotype that embroidery was merely a way for women to pass the time. Any task performed with sincerity and dedication is worthy of respect.
When I was thirty, my fifty-year-old mother's eyesight began to degenerate rapidly due to years of intense focus. Even the best medicinal care was ineffective, and she lost the sight in one eye, with only a faint glimmer remaining in the other. For an embroiderer, this was equivalent to being forced to put down the needle. We were helpless, and my mother became deeply depressed as her creative life came to a halt. Two years later, she lost the sight in her other eye entirely, living the rest of her life in darkness. We were left wondering: what had we done wrong? My mother was honest and never told a lie; why would she face such a fate in her later years? In our confusion, we followed the advice of a Venerable and began donating our earnings to help the poor.
With my mother's consent, I donated a portion of our family's wealth to provide regular relief funds, hoping to improve the lives of the impoverished. We dedicated this merit to my mother's eyes, and to our surprise, the sight in one eye gradually began to improve. From then on, we understood the principle that doing good brings good rewards. My wife and I committed ourselves to this practice for the rest of our lives—partly to ensure no one else in our family would lose their sight, and partly to care for those who were helpless. Some of these people were in poor health and had not bathed in a long time; when we cleaned them, the sincere 'thank you' from an elderly person gave us immense comfort. Helping others is the root of happiness—a timeless truth. Doing good silently is even more joyful than letting everyone know.
A Vision of the Buddha
At the age of fifty-three, my own eyesight remained sharp, showing no signs of age-related degeneration, and I passed away without illness. I believe this was the result of my mother's transformation and our acts of charity. When I was brought before the Fourth Yama King, he showed me a large piece of embroidery with only the character for 'Buddha' on it, which was radiating golden light. That was a piece I had spent half a month working on, day and night, without sleep, to thank my teacher for teaching us the value of generosity. I had given it to him out of gratitude for my mother's recovery, never expecting to see it here.
Yama King explained that it was because of that sincere, selfless heart of gratitude, combined with my daily acts of charity, that the Buddha-light from the character had protected my vision. Had I not done so, my own would have led me to the same fate as my mother—blindness. In a past life, my mother and I were brothers who, in our greed for the family inheritance, had caused our elders to go blind through chronic poisoning so that we could alter their wills. In this life, we were destined to suffer the same blindness and die in despair, but our timely acts of charity and the blessing of the Buddha-light had transformed that karmic retribution. I am grateful for everything I encountered, as it all served as a condition for my growth and transformation towards Goodness. Because of the good I had done, my sins were offset, and my next destination was to be a spirit in the underworld.
Lessons from the Digging-Eyes Hell
With the help of Yama King, I obtained the position of a prison guard. In the Digging-Eyes Hell, whenever a prisoner's sentence was nearing its end, I would always counsel them to cultivate a 'good eye' and avoid having a 'bad eye.' I would tell them that having a bad heart leads to suffering while alive, and after death, one must suffer the retribution of the Digging-Eyes Hell—it is truly miserable! This is exactly what Practitioner Su taught everyone at the assembly today: one must not look at things with a 'bad eye,' for if you look at things with a bad eye, you yourself will become distorted and deformed. It is true—if you look at everything with a good eye, keep your heart good, and ensure your thoughts and intentions are kind and virtuous, things will take a turn for the better, and you will receive good rewards. This is my sincere advice to everyone, and it is my own personal experience.
I am grateful to Yama King for including me on the list of prison guards to be delivered to the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss by Practitioner Su. I waited four and a half years, and today, I have finally arrived. Here at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre, I have once again seen that gentle, kind, and powerful Buddha-light. We are now in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss, a land of brightness, where the Buddha-light shines upon us. I truly have a deep karmic affinity with the Buddha-light! What a precious connection this is.
I am grateful to , grateful to Practitioner Su, and grateful to all the virtuous ones and the fourfold assembly of disciples.
Ruan Yicheng and the sixty prison guards bow three times in gratitude for the Buddha's grace."
The interview message was recorded by the Buddhist disciple, Venerable HaiZe.
