The Price of a Golden Koi

This is a record of an interview with Tsai Chin-shui, 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 and passing approximately seventy years ago. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Haliang, on April 21, 2021.

Tsai Chin-shui speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am Tsai Chin-shui. Looking back, it feels like a lifetime ago, yet the memories are as vivid as if they happened just yesterday. My family was deeply involved in the aquaculture industry, and my life was defined by the fish ponds we managed.

The Typhoon and the Golden Koi

I remember it so clearly—the typhoon had arrived. The sky was dark, and the rain was pouring down in sheets. My mother’s face was etched with worry; her brow was furrowed, and she was shouting at the top of her lungs, 'Chin-shui! Come quickly! Come quickly! The fish from our ponds are being washed out by the rain into the big ditch next door. Hurry, go and catch them!' Seeing how distressed she was, I couldn't bear it. I grabbed the large fishing net and rushed out to save what I could. Seeing me bring the fish back, my mother’s anxiety finally began to ease.

But I had barely caught my breath when I heard my father calling from the distance. 'Chin-shui! Chin-shui!' He came running toward me, gasping for air as if he were struggling for his very life. He pointed toward our home, breathless, and cried out, 'Chin-shui! Help your father find them! Our koi—the precious koi I imported all the way from Japan! Three of them are worth fifty thousand each, but the most valuable one—the one with golden scales all over its body—that one is worth a million! Hurry, hurry, go find them for me!' He was so desperate that he even hired our neighbours, A-Song and A-Yi, to help. We put on our raincoats and split up to search. The rain was getting heavier, but I moved faster. Every time I thought of my father’s pained voice, I pushed myself harder. I saw a small stream ahead and ran toward it. There, near some water weeds, I spotted two of my father’s prized koi. I carefully caught them and brought them home. My father patted my shoulder with a grin and said, 'Our Chin-shui is truly capable! I’m counting on you to find that million-dollar koi. Go back out there for me.' Seeing that A-Yi and A-Song were exhausted, I decided to go alone so they could rest. I gulped down two bowls of rice and headed straight back to the stream.

A Fatal Slip in the Stream

The stream was rising, the water rushing faster and faster. Thankfully, I had my rubber boots on. I followed the current downstream, searching every nook and cranny. Near some rocks, I found many of our fish and scooped them into my bag. As I continued downstream, I saw it—the million-dollar koi. It was incredibly agile, but I could see the fear in its eyes. I stepped into the water as gently as I could, terrified of disturbing it or damaging those precious golden scales. If I scratched them, my father would be heartbroken. But as soon as I got close, the fish darted away. I followed it patiently, but the current was faster than I was. Finally, I reached a low-lying pool where the water was crystal clear. I saw the golden koi resting there. 'This is it,' I thought. 'I have to catch it this time.' I came up with a plan: I would cover the entire pool with my large net, then step in with a smaller net to scoop it up. When I stepped into the pool, I realised the water was deeper than my shoulders. I managed to grab the fish, but as I tried to climb out, I slipped. The rocks were covered in slippery moss. In the chaos—one hand holding the fish, the other trying to lift the net, and my feet losing their balance—I sank. My nose filled with water, I gasped, and my grip loosened. I became tangled in my own net. I held my breath for as long as I could, but eventually, I stopped breathing.

Watching My Own Funeral

I heard a voice: 'Tsai Chin-shui, come back! Tsai Chin-shui, come back!' I heard my parents calling a Taoist priest. He held a bamboo pole with a piece of white cloth attached, calling my name. That was when I realised—I was dead. They burned paper money by the stream, and I saw a swarm of spirits fighting over it. My spirit followed my parents home. The priest placed a memorial tablet on the altar and said, 'Tsai Chin-shui, your spirit is now inside this tablet. We will perform the Chao Du ceremony for you later.' With that, he took his red envelope and left. My parents were devastated.

My mother sobbed to my father, 'I told you we should have found him a wife! You kept saying we needed a diligent daughter-in-law for the fish farm. Now our son is dead, there’s no wife, no grandchildren to pay respects to him. He was our only son—who is going to worship him now?' My father was heartbroken too. 'Old woman, don't keep saying that. I know you’re hurting just as much as I am. I’ll ask his little cousin to come and pay respects.' Every day, the cousin came to burn paper money. The priest told them, 'Since he has no wife or children, finish the funeral rites quickly so you two old folks won’t be constantly reminded of your grief.' The funeral was over in a week. On the final day, they burned 'treasury money' and had relatives and neighbours form a circle to protect it from being stolen by other spirits. My father was so afraid I wouldn't have money to spend in the underworld that he burned two truckloads of it for me.

The Truth About the Aquaculture Industry

The next day, I watched as my body was placed in the coffin and loaded onto the hearse for the crematorium. My parents couldn't go—it was taboo for elders to send off a junior—so only my cousin went. My parents wept bitterly. I stayed home to comfort them, but my body was gone. My spirit, however, could wander anywhere.

The next day, I went back to the stream to see if the koi was still there. It had been caught by someone living nearby. My cousin was riding his motorbike to visit my parents, and I intentionally made his bike break down near that house. I led him to see the fish. He was shocked and asked the owner, 'Is this your koi?' The owner replied, 'We caught it during the typhoon.' My cousin sighed, 'This is my uncle’s fish. His son died trying to find it. I advise you to return it.' The owner, after consulting his wife, decided to return it. My father wept when he saw the fish again. He put it back in the pond and whispered to it, 'Because of you, my son lost his life! If I had known, I would never have wanted you.' The fish seemed to look back with sadness. My father decided to sell the fish and stop raising fish in that pond.

A month after I died, my father—who was famous for his aquaculture techniques—decided to share his knowledge with others to give back to society. He drove from the south to the north, touring Taiwan. I followed him, observing the vast aquaculture industry. We had always occupied a third of the total farming area in Taiwan. My grandfather used pig farm wastewater and manure mixed with feed to raise fat tilapia, which sold for a high price. That was how we built our family home. But in the past, Taiwan had plenty of rain; now, it has become a land of drought.

A Call from the Light

One night, while my spirit was hovering near the fish pond, I heard the sound of chanting coming from the space around me. It was accompanied by a brilliant light, moving with incredible speed. I began to watch for it every night at that hour. I listened closely to the sound of 'Namo Amituofo.' The Buddha-name resonated, and the local Earth God appeared beside me. 'Chin-shui,' he said, 'you have been a very filial son to your parents. Don't stay here guarding the fish ponds anymore. I, too, am leaving. If that light appears again, let us chant together and follow it. I hear that is how one reaches the place of light. Do not stay by your parents' side; it is better for their health if you move on. We shall go to the place where there is light. I have heard that one must chant this Namo Amituofo to become a Buddha. I have been observing for a long time; you are very fond of this Buddha-name. Tomorrow, I will follow that sound and go with the Buddha.'"

Jinshui asked the Earth God, "If I am no longer here, what will happen to these fish ponds?" The Earth God replied, "People in this world earn money just to put food on the table. They do not realise that managing fish ponds is a way of creating karma. Once the small fish are raised to maturity, they are sold to markets or restaurants to be slaughtered. Have you ever wondered where these fish spirits go? They are reborn as fish again, only to seek revenge on those who killed and ate them. It is truly a miserable cycle!" Hearing the Earth God speak this way, I finally understood that fish farming is a form of creating karma. I thought to myself, if I stop helping to manage these ponds, my father would likely sell them to someone else. In that way, my father would no longer be creating this karma. Hearing the Earth God's words made my heart ache. No one had ever told me that raising fish was creating karma, nor did anyone tell me that if you kill fish, they will come looking for you, and if you eat them, they will come looking for you—it is an endless cycle of karmic retribution. I decided that when I heard the sound of the Buddha-name tomorrow, I would chant Namo Amituofo and follow the light. The Earth God and I agreed to meet in front of the fish ponds the next day, and then he departed.

A Final Repentance by the Water

My spirit circled the fish ponds, and I began to repent to all the fish. As I walked, I kept saying, "I am so sorry. I did not know that by raising you, I was condemning you to be slaughtered. Now I know that you, just like me, are also spirits." Thinking of how many fish I had raised throughout my life, I could not help but shed tears. The more I cried, the sadder I felt. Thinking of my father and mother, I knelt by the side of the fish pond and wept until I was exhausted. In the distance, I saw my father walking over to inspect the ponds. I saw that he had grown old and looked so lonely; my heart pained for him! I called out, "Father!" but he could not hear me. I could sense that he wanted to sell the fish ponds, because coming here only reminded him of his obedient son—me, Jinshui. I used every ounce of my strength to shout, "Father! Father! Please take care of yourself! I am leaving tomorrow!" But he could not hear me.

The Golden Light of Deliverance

I waited by the fish pond as I had agreed with the Earth God. Before long, the beautiful sound of the Buddha-name arrived: "Namo Amituofo." The Earth God told me, "That is the sound of Practitioner Su chanting the Buddha-name. In a moment, the light will appear. We must chant together and follow the golden light—that is the only way. Only Practitioner Su can save everyone, for he is a manifestation of the Buddha. You must quickly repent; repent to all the fish in the ponds you managed, and repent for all the wrongdoings you have committed." Upon hearing the Buddha-name, tears flowed uncontrollably from my eyes. I knelt and bowed in sincere repentance. When I saw the Buddha-light shining upon me, I repented with my whole heart. In an instant, I followed that light, sat upon a lotus seat, and continued to chant "Namo Amituofo" with my lips. I am so grateful to the Buddha, and grateful to the compassionate Practitioner Su, whose entire body shone with golden light as he illuminated me. I am also grateful to the Earth God. The Buddha-light shone upon my family's entire fish pond, and I saw that the fish in the ponds were also to be saved. We all chanted the Buddha-name, "Namo Amituofo," in unison. I saw Practitioner Su's countless billions of manifestations calling out all the fish from the western fish ponds I had managed. They all followed along, chanting the Buddha-name, and the Buddha liberated them all, guiding them away.

I am grateful to the compassionate Buddha, and grateful to the compassionate Practitioner Su.

Namo Amituofo.

Cai Jinshui

Memorial Tablet: Management of western aquaculture fish ponds, pond spirits, fish, lobsters, water molecules, plankton in streams, and moss, in countless numbers. Representative: Cai Jinshui (seeking purification, listening to the Dharma, and Chao Du)

Entered the Western Land of Dharma Nature at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre.