The Healer Who Became the Medicine

This is a record of an interview with Xiao Wanchang, who sought Chao Du at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. This account reflects upon his life as a healer and his subsequent service as a prison guard in the underworld. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fajing, on March 30, 2024.

Xiao Wanchang speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am Xiao Wanchang. We, the prison guards, are filled with boundless gratitude to Practitioner Su for compassionately guiding us to the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. During this time, I have clearly seen that without the Dharma Body of Practitioner Su to deliver sentient beings, these immeasurable and boundless beings would have had no chance to escape; they would have been trapped in suffering forever. We were the same. If Practitioner Su had not brought us to the Western Land, after our service as prison guards ended, we would have inevitably fallen back into the cycle of samsara. Our hearts are overflowing with gratitude. Namo Amituofo.

I have been a person who carried a look of deep sorrow since I was a child. Many people would see me and ask with concern, 'Little one, you are so young, why do you look so unhappy? What are you worrying about?' No matter who asked me, I would only shake my head without expression, because I truly did not know how to answer them. It was as if a heavy, invisible shroud of melancholy had been draped over my shoulders from the moment I entered this world, leaving me unable to find the joy that other children so naturally possessed."

A Childhood Defined by Sorrow

"In truth, I did not want to be this way. It was the environment in which I grew up that made me so sorrowful and left my heart in such a state of constant, gnawing unrest. My father ran a gambling den, but he eventually lost a great deal of money. Before I was even born, he fled to escape his debts, and I never once laid eyes on him. My mother was left completely destitute, and to pay for the costs of my birth, she had to borrow money from others, starting my life in a state of debt and hardship.

After I was born, in order to raise me, my mother had to borrow money constantly while carrying me on her back to find work every single day. The jobs she took were incredibly gruelling, demanding every ounce of her strength. She would be drenched in sweat, working outdoors regardless of whether it was the scorching heat of summer or the freezing rain of winter. When the weather turned cold, she would take our only quilt, wrap me tightly inside it so I would not freeze, and continue her work. I saw every bit of her hardship from a very young age. Even though I was small, I could clearly see that my mother was suffering immensely, and this sight etched itself into my very soul.

I could not bear to see her running about, exhausted, leaving early and returning late. So, from the age of seven, my only ambition was to grow up quickly so I could go out and earn money for her, sparing her from such back-breaking labour. My mind was constantly racing, thinking about what kind of work I could do in the future and how I could earn a fortune. I also spent my time wondering what I could do at home to help her and reduce her burden before I was old enough to work. When I saw my mother fall ill, I would be filled with worry and want to take her to a doctor, but she could not bear to spend the money, and every time, she would simply grit her teeth and endure it, hiding her pain behind a forced smile."

The Stranger's Prophecy

"I kept all these worries locked inside my head, constantly fretting. That is why I always looked so sorrowful. Yet, because of this, I learned to do many household chores at a very young age, including cooking. I could cook quite well because, after my mother taught me once, I would immediately master it, never needing her to spend time teaching me a second time. My mother’s health was poor, and she was frequently ill. To ensure I could heal her quickly when she fell sick and save her from suffering, I began searching for medicinal herbs when I was only nine years old. Perhaps I had a natural talent, for I could quickly distinguish which plants were medicinal and which could treat specific illnesses. It was as if I had known these things all along; I could categorise them with ease.

I collected many herbs and stored them at home, all prepared for my mother. For every ailment she frequently suffered, I had the corresponding herb ready. As soon as a symptom appeared, I would immediately give her the medicine to help her endure less pain. One day, we ran out of firewood for the stove, so I hurried to the mountain to gather some dry branches. As I was walking home with a bundle of wood on my back, I passed a man. As he walked toward me, I felt him staring at me. Just as he was about to pass, he suddenly stopped and called out to me.

The man said, 'Child, you have great ability. You should help others more. As long as you help others, people will naturally help you, and you will have nothing to worry about.' His words startled me, and I wondered, 'Does he know my situation?' The man continued, 'I dare not say I am fully enlightened, but I have a small ability to perceive a person's situation. When I saw you just now, I knew you had the ability to help many who are in need. The merit you accumulate will be enough to save your mother.' Hearing his words felt like a bright light guiding me, showing me how I could do better."

The Calling of a Healer

"When I returned home, I cooked the meal, covered it, and waited for my mother to return from work. I then went out to see how I could be of help. As I walked through the streets, I finally saw how miserable everyone’s life was. I was puzzled; I had walked this street countless times, why was I only seeing their suffering now? I looked more closely and realised that so many people were in the same situation as I was. Many were ill but had no money for treatment. Some were already terminally ill, with their children weeping beside them; others had children begging on the streets, pleading for alms so they could take their parents to a doctor. My heart ached. I understood their pain, especially the helplessness of seeing one's parents suffer without the ability to help them. I had seen my own mother suffer, so I knew exactly how painful it was for them.

To help everyone suffer a little less, I decided to find more herbs and distribute them to the patients in need. This way, even the poorest families, who had no money for medical care, could use the herbs to alleviate their pain or even have a chance to be cured. I became busier and busier because more and more people came to me for herbs. Some patients improved significantly after taking them, and they became even more eager to seek my help. Initially, I felt guilty toward my mother for not spending as much time with her as before, but unexpectedly, her health grew stronger, and she did not fall ill as often. She encouraged me to help others, saying it was a virtuous deed.

Encouraged by my mother, I became even more devoted to finding herbs. Many people came to our home to express their gratitude. Because their long-term illnesses were cured by the herbs, they were filled with immense joy. Even if they had no money, they insisted on bringing gifts to my mother and me to show their thanks. As I helped more people, I eventually found that I could diagnose illnesses myself. This was something I had never imagined. Perhaps it was truly my instinct; no matter which patient appeared before me, I could see the condition of their body and prescribe the right medicine."

The Illusion of the Forest

"Later, I opened a small clinic. I was not a professional physician, just a boy who had gradually learned how to heal, so I set up a simple place to treat people. Since my mother was getting older, I eventually charged each patient a small fee—a very small amount—just enough to support her so she would not have to continue working so hard. I spent decades healing people in this way. Over these decades of practice, my medical skills improved significantly. I became so proficient with herbs that I did not even need to look at them; by smelling or touching them, I knew exactly what they were and what illnesses they could treat. Nothing escaped me.

I also possessed a unique ability: I could easily find where medicinal herbs grew. While others might spend half a day searching, I did not. My mind would simply know where to go to find the herbs I needed, and upon arriving, I would find exactly what I sought. Perhaps it was because my mental note was different; I genuinely wanted to help others, not just out of greed for my own health. Naturally, invisible forces assisted me, reducing the time I spent searching. I lived to be seventy-five, and I felt my life was worth living. I allowed my mother to leave this world without too much pain, and I helped many others treat their illnesses. At the very least, they suffered less because of these herbs.

In the final moments of my life, I felt as though I were still searching for herbs. I walked into a vast forest, and I felt a voice telling me to go deeper to find a rare herb that could cure all diseases. I was so excited that I kept walking forward, eyes scanning the plants, anticipating the sight of this rare herb. I never imagined that the forest I had entered was merely an illusion. There were far too many spirits interfering with me—some were my own karmic creditors, and others were patients I had treated who harboured resentment toward me. They were all waiting to seize my spirit."

From Prison Guard to the Western Pure Land

"I was deceived by the forest illusion, searching endlessly for herbs. The moment I breathed my last, my spirit entered the space of the herbs, becoming a truly rare and precious herb capable of curing all diseases. I grew in a hidden part of the forest, rarely discovered by humans. However, I could sense that someone would eventually find me, and that person would be a benevolent doctor. I waited for this doctor to appear and take me to heal many people. Even as a herb, it was worth it to continue helping others.

After waiting for over a hundred years, a benevolent doctor finally found me. He looked very kind. As soon as he saw me, he recognised that I was a treasure and carefully plucked me, placing me into his bamboo basket. Back at his home, he ground me into fine powder. This benevolent doctor knew clearly that each patient only needed a tiny amount of the powder to have a chance at being cured, because I was a truly powerful herb. Because I had a single-minded desire to save people, my vow combined with the herb's natural efficacy, making me a herb that could indeed cure all diseases. Sure enough, every patient who came to this doctor, if their condition was severe, would have a little of my powder added to their medicine bag. After taking it, they all saw immediate results! I was placed into over two hundred medicine bags, and thus, I cured the difficult illnesses of over two hundred people.

After the last bag of medicine was consumed, my spirit emerged from the herbal space, and two officials immediately appeared to take me to the Yama Hall. King Yama praised my good deeds, saying that I had done nothing evil in that life and was a filial son, though my past lives were not the same, and I had accumulated countless sins. This time, he allowed me to serve as a prison guard, giving me the opportunity to serve in the hells. I was very grateful, for I knew the road of samsara was truly painful, and at the very least, I could do some work here instead of suffering. However, while in the hells, my heart ached every day. I was deeply saddened to see the hell-bound criminals suffering, their wails constant. Fortunately, I had the opportunity to hear Practitioner Su give Dharma talks in the hells. When I understood the teachings, I was so happy that I immediately shared them with the hell-bound beings, giving them a chance to be saved as well.

I never stopped helping these beings in the hells, and in the end, I was surprised to find my own name on the list of those to be led by Practitioner Su to the Western Land. Today, I and the other fifty-nine prison guards have truly arrived at the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. Our hearts are filled with gratitude, and we kneel and kowtow.

Gratitude to Namo Amituofo.

Gratitude to Practitioner Su.

Namo Amituofo.

Xiao Wanchang bows in reverence."