The Ferryman's Journey to the Western Pure Land

This interview was recorded on December 14, 2024, by the chief writer, Shi Fajing. The subject, Chen Fangzhou, was a ferryman who spent his entire life observing the profound suffering of the villagers he transported. After his death, he served as a prison guard in the hells before finally finding his way to the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss under the compassionate guidance of Practitioner Su. He now resides in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss, where he continues his practice.

Chen Fangzhou speaks:

"The cycle of reincarnation is truly endless and filled with deep, pervasive suffering; it has never once ceased for the beings trapped within it. Yet now, I have finally broken free from that turbulent path. Under the protective guidance of Practitioner Su, I have successfully entered the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. At this very moment, I, along with fifty-nine other prison guards, am kneeling before the Buddha in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss, offering my most sincere and humble prostrations. My heart is filled with boundless, overflowing gratitude—gratitude to Namo Amituofo and gratitude to Practitioner Su for their infinite compassion."

A Life Upon the Water

"My father was a humble ferryman. His life’s work was to carry villagers from one shore to the other, helping them reach the destination they sought. The distance was not great, but without my father’s boat, they would have had no way to cross the river. It was on that very boat that my parents met, and when I was born, they named me Fangzhou, meaning 'Square Boat'.

Sadly, my mother passed away from illness shortly after my birth. From the age of one, my father raised me alone. To support us, he continued his work as a ferryman, carrying me on his back every single day. By the time I could walk, I had my own small spot on the boat. The passengers, whether sitting or standing, would often tease me because they found me adorable. There was not a single regular passenger who did not know me.

From a young age, my ambition was to become a ferryman just like my father. I thought he was magnificent. Though the boat was small and somewhat dilapidated, I saw how everyone relied on it to reach the city across the river to conduct business, buy supplies, or work. To the villagers, my father’s role was vital. However, many people told me that this job had no future. They said it was just drifting back and forth, earning little money and achieving nothing. They were right, of course. On the surface, it seemed like a life confined to that small space. But I saw something else entirely."

The Burden of Insight

"Since childhood, I seemed to possess an ability that others lacked—a kind of precognition. I never told anyone, as no one in our villages had ever heard of such things. I only let my father know, but he didn't seem to take it seriously; perhaps he just dismissed it as the ramblings of a child. I remember when I was six years old, I was sitting on my father’s boat as he carried a group of passengers. In the middle of the great lake, I suddenly felt a violent tremor in my heart, followed by a sharp, piercing pain in my chest. It was unbearable. I wanted to call out to my father, but he was busy navigating. I tried to calm my heart, and as I did, I realised the pain was not a physical ailment, but a vision of something about to happen in the future. It filled my heart with immense sorrow.

At six, I was still a child, yet I understood much. Having lost my mother and spending every day on the boat, I saw all kinds of people—different families, different lives. I remember clearly that both the rich and the poor rode our boat. I would speak to a struggling man named Uncle A-Fei, and the next person to board would be the wealthy young master Lin Dongfu. They were roughly the same age, yet their backgrounds were worlds apart. Despite this, I saw the same emptiness in their eyes and the same bitterness in their hearts. Neither poverty nor wealth made them truly happy.

I did not seek to feel the emotions of others, but whenever someone came near, even if they sat at the furthest end of the boat, I could immediately sense their state. I knew their hearts clearly. Perhaps Heaven intended for me to have this ability so that I might learn to let go of attachments. I did not cling to the loss of my mother, nor to the things the world pursues. I realised that if this body were used only to chase fame, status, or wealth, it would never bring satisfaction. Even if one obtained them, one would quickly grow weary and indifferent, leading only to greater suffering. Every passenger was my teacher. They taught me through their lives. By simply sitting there, watching them and listening to them, I received a lesson every day—lessons that allowed me to reflect on my own life. I asked myself: 'Is their life what I want? If not, what is it that I truly seek?' I was a helpful child, and the passengers loved me. I was like a little prince on that boat, receiving everyone’s affection. But my heart ached, for I could clearly see the suffering of every single person I met. I pondered how to help them, but no matter how hard I thought, I could not find the answer. Perhaps I was suffering too, without even knowing it."

The Encounter with the Dharma

"When I was fifteen, my father fell ill, and I took over his work. Many of the villagers I had known since childhood were now old or sick, and some had already passed away. One day, I carried an old practitioner—a monk. He was incredibly kind, and from the moment I saw him, I felt he was different from anyone I had met in fifteen years. As the boat sailed, I kept wondering what made him so unique. While I was lost in thought, the boat nearly had an accident. I snapped back to reality, and the old monk said to me, 'Little Bodhisattva, single-mindedness is very important.' I was stunned that he knew what I was thinking. Then he asked, 'Can you not sense the hearts of others?'

I suddenly realised: 'Yes! I can sense everyone’s heart. But I cannot sense yours. That is the difference!' I was shocked. How could there be a heart I could not read? I hadn't even realised I was failing to sense him, yet he had read my mind. After that day, I became deeply interested in his practice. Whenever I had time, I went to the temple to listen to his Dharma talks. It was then I learned that human suffering stems from attachment. Life does not have to be bitter, but few escape it because they cannot let go. Attachment to the body, in particular, is the greatest suffering. After learning the Buddha’s teachings, I began to share them on the boat. I hoped to help others learn the Dharma and leave suffering behind. It was a perfect opportunity, as I had a new group of people to speak to every day. When I was forty-six, the disaster I had foreseen finally arrived. The rains were relentless, and the river flooded. The villagers refused to leave their homes until the water reached their necks. I ferried them across, boatload after boatload, but the current was too fast, and many were swept away. I urged them to chant Namo Amituofo, but in the face of death, they lost their reason, screaming and crying, forgetting the Buddha in their panic. In that disaster, I lost my own life. Although I tried to chant, my practice was not strong enough, and I felt deeply ashamed."

Deliverance from the Hells

"After my spirit left my body, I entered the boat, becoming its primary spirit. I hoped to lead all who boarded toward the light and hope. After nearly ten years, the boat was destroyed, and my spirit was taken to the hells to face King Yama. I was not punished, but instead appointed as a prison guard. Even in hell, I wanted to share the Dharma, but I felt ashamed because I had not practised well enough during my life to attain liberation. Later, the sound of Practitioner Su’s Dharma talks reached the hells. When I heard them, I was moved to tears. I truly saw that Practitioner Su is Namo Amituofo. I kept telling all the beings in hell, 'The Buddha is here! The Buddha is here! Everyone, chant Namo Amituofo!' I shared the teachings, hoping everyone would listen, recognise the Buddha, repent, and seek deliverance. Many were saved by Practitioner Su, and eventually, I too was placed on the list to be guided to the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss.

Today, I and the other fifty-nine prison guards have truly arrived in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. We bow before the Buddha incessantly, offering our gratitude to Namo Amituofo and Practitioner Su."

Chen Fangzhou, bowing in reverence.

Namo Amituofo.