The Jailer’s Path to Liberation

This is a record of an interview with Liu Zhizhong, who sought deliverance 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 and his eventual transformation from a jailer in the hells to a practitioner of the Pure Land. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fajing, on November 27, 2021.

Liu Zhizhong speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. The Western Land of Ultimate Bliss, a realm I had longed for with every fibre of my being, has finally manifested before my eyes. The transition from the depths of the hells to this magnificent, radiant world is so profound that my heart is still trembling with the sheer magnitude of the contrast. As I gaze upon the dignity and majesty of this place, the memories of the hells—the cold, the suffering, the endless torment—come rushing back, and I cannot help but let out a long, heavy sigh.

If only every being in the six realms of rebirth could truly understand the laws of karma and cause and effect, they would surely strive for rebirth in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. They would not have to endure the excruciating agony of the hells, nor would they be trapped in the cycle of rebirth, suffering the consequences of their past actions over and over again. Only after arriving here in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss did I truly realise how wonderful, how liberating, it feels to be free from the cycle of samsara. I sincerely hope that every being can be reborn in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss.

At this moment, I am kneeling here with fifty-nine other beings who served as jailers alongside me. We are bowing in deep gratitude to the Buddha, and in profound appreciation for the compassion of Practitioner Su. Namo Amituofo."

The Wisdom of San Niang

"Following the usual custom, I would like to share the story of my life. When I lived in the human world, the person who left the deepest impression on me was my grandmother. She was a woman of immense Wisdom, and everyone in the village addressed her as 'San Niang.' She was the third wife my grandfather had taken, and over time, the name stuck so firmly that it became her identity. No matter where she went, she was known simply as San Niang.

Our household was a bustling one. Beyond my grandmother, there were my grandfather, my parents, and a growing brood of children. My memory of my parents is one of constant, relentless childbearing. My mother seemed to be perpetually pregnant, year after year. As the eldest, I witnessed the strain of this life; by the time I turned fifteen, my mother had already given birth to twelve younger siblings. It was a life of unending toil and physical exhaustion.

My parents had intended to keep having children, but my grandmother finally intervened. She told them firmly, 'Children are not merely to be brought into the world; if you cannot care for them properly, then your life is a failure. Each child is a treasure that must be nurtured and educated. Even if we lack the money for formal schooling, we must teach them virtue and how to be upright, honest human beings. If you lack the capacity to teach them, then stop having more. The Liu family does not need a multitude of descendants just for the sake of continuing the lineage.' My father, who always held my grandmother in the highest regard, listened to her counsel and ceased having more children. My mother, at last, was granted a reprieve to let her body recover.

As the firstborn, I spent the most time with my grandmother. My youngest brother, by contrast, has only the vaguest, most fleeting memories of her. I remember the other two wives of my grandfather—the first and second wives—as women with bound feet. They walked with a precarious, swaying gait, as if they might topple over at any moment. I often felt the urge to reach out and steady them, but they seemed entirely accustomed to their instability, navigating any terrain with a strange, practised ease.

My grandmother once explained to me, 'Those two have walked that way for so long that they will not fall; do not worry about them.' My curiosity was piqued, and I asked, 'Why did they bind their feet, but you did not?' She replied, 'I once had my feet bound, too, but within a month, I tore the bindings off myself.' When I asked why, she said, 'With feet that small, bound in such pain, one can do nothing. Even though our family was wealthy enough that I did not need to work, my hands felt as if they were born to be busy. I could not sit idle; I had to be doing something to feel at ease. Furthermore, I had no interest in attracting men. That swaying walk was meant to catch a man's eye, but I would rather have large, sturdy feet and walk with a firm, steady stride than seek such attention.' I asked her why she had married my grandfather as his third wife, and she sighed, 'It was an arrangement made by our elders long ago. I had no choice but to marry him, otherwise, I would have preferred to remain single.'"

The Lesson of Selfless Service

"In that era, my grandmother’s perspective was remarkably unique. Most women sought a 'good' husband, but she had no desire for marriage, preferring a life of productive work. She often told me, 'Look at your mother; she is exhausted, constantly pregnant, yet still has to go to the river to wash clothes and cook. If she had not married, she would be living a life of ease. Alas, people in this world cannot escape the power of emotion. Once they meet someone with whom they have a karmic connection, they are like two sticky pieces of rice cake—once joined, they can never be separated.'

When I was ten, while I was helping my father in the fields, my grandmother approached me and said, 'Ah-Zhong, stop what you are doing. Go and help Old Lin next door.' I was confused and asked, 'But if I leave, who will help Father?' She replied, 'Your father has plenty of sons. Your brothers who are nine, eight, and seven can help him; there is no shortage of hands. Go! Old Lin has difficulty walking, and his children are not quite right in the head. From today, you will go to help him every day. Leave the work at home to your brothers.'

I obeyed my grandmother, and from that day on, I became a free child labourer for Old Lin. He felt quite embarrassed and even brought some fruit he had grown to thank my grandmother. She said to him, right in front of me, 'This child is capable. Whatever you need him to do, just ask. He is young; a little extra work will not hurt him. If there are any issues, just come and ask me.' Old Lin laughed, thanked her, and took me to his fields to begin work.

Old Lin did not have a good reputation in the village. He was incredibly stingy and would argue over the smallest trifles, so people avoided him. When he and his wife had children who were not mentally sound, many mocked him behind his back, calling it his karmic retribution. Only my grandmother did not laugh; instead, she actively cared for him and told him to come to her if he ever needed help.

After I began working in his fields, Old Lin grew noticeably heavier. He would delegate all the work to me while he napped under a large tree. When he woke up, I would have finished the tasks, and he would simply say, 'Good! That is enough for today, go home.' He would stand up, brush off his clothes, and stroll home with ease.

I often returned home so exhausted from the day's labour that I would fall asleep without eating, only to rise at dawn and begin again. A few times, I secretly complained in my heart, wondering why my grandmother insisted I work for this man without pay. Whenever I sat before her, ready to voice my grievances, she would immediately silence me, saying, 'Say nothing. Just do it.' She forbade me from complaining and insisted I continue. She even told me, 'When you work, you are not allowed to have a sour face. You must work with joy.'"

The Power of a Smile

"Following her instructions, I began to hold a hoe with a smile, pull weeds with a smile, and water the crops with a smile. No matter what Old Lin asked of me, I remained cheerful. Even when he tried to take advantage of me, I kept smiling. This was what my grandmother had commanded—to learn to work with a joyful heart. At first, my smile felt stiff and forced, but over time, it seemed to open my heart. The smile became natural, and I found myself smiling without even thinking about it. It was inconceivable! No matter how difficult the task, I could accept it with a smile. This growth and transformation were something I could hardly believe myself.

One day, Old Lin said to me, 'Ah-Zhong, you are truly a remarkable child. No one in this village has ever dared to associate with me, yet you have worked for me for over a year. I plan to sell this land, so you will not need to come anymore. When I sell it, I will give you a portion of the money as wages for this year, or perhaps as a dowry for when you marry!'

I told my grandmother what he had said, and she replied, 'Since it is Old Lin’s intention, you should accept it.' Just as I sat down to talk with her, a neighbour named Uncle Huang rushed in, looking frantic. 'San Niang! San Niang! My wife has fallen, and I do not know if the baby will survive. Please, come and take a look at her.' My grandmother was a midwife; she had delivered all of us. One of the reasons she had stopped my mother from having more children was that she saw my mother’s body could no longer handle the strain. Beyond being a midwife, she had learned some medical skills from her own grandfather, and she could treat many common ailments. The villagers always sought her help when they were ill.

I followed my grandmother to Uncle Huang’s house and waited in the living room. Uncle Huang looked grave. I tried to reassure him, 'Uncle Huang, Grandmother’s medical skills are excellent; do not worry, everything will be fine.' He said, 'I hope this child survives. He is the only heir to the Huang family. My wife has always had difficulty conceiving; if we lose this child... our family line will end.' He covered his face and wept. It was the first time I had seen him so distressed. Just as I was about to comfort him, my grandmother emerged. Uncle Huang stood up nervously and asked, 'How are my wife and the child?' She said, 'Both are safe, but until the baby is born, your wife must remain in bed to protect the pregnancy.'

Upon hearing that his wife needed bed rest, Uncle Huang began to worry again. 'What will I do? I cannot stay by her side all the time; there is so much work to be done in the fields.' I immediately stepped forward: 'Uncle Huang, do not worry! I can help you with the field work! I have over a year of experience working for Old Lin! I can do anything, I will help you!' My grandmother immediately endorsed me, telling him, 'My grandson is very capable; you can trust him.' Uncle Huang had heard of my work with Old Lin and was impressed. With my grandmother’s encouragement, he accepted me as a free child labourer to help him until his wife gave birth.

Uncle Huang’s fields were easier to cultivate than Old Lin’s, and I handled the work with ease. I cared for his crops so well that he was constantly amazed. He was able to focus entirely on caring for his wife and his two elderly, ailing parents, knowing the fields were in good hands. The villagers were astonished that Uncle Huang, a man who trusted no one but himself, would entrust his land to me. When he began to praise me, it was truly inconceivable to everyone.

When Uncle Huang’s son was born safely, he was overjoyed and bought generous gifts for my grandmother and me. He underwent a profound change; he became approachable and learned to trust others. Seeing the smile on his face made me very happy for him.

Later, when Old Lin sold his land, he gave me a significant sum of money. My grandmother told me to accept it and then use it to perform acts of Generosity on his behalf. We did not intend for him to know, but he discovered it. We expected him to be furious, given his reputation for stinginess, but he was not angry at all. Instead, he came to thank my grandmother and me, saying, 'I have lived to this age, yet I lack the mind-capacity of a teenager. I am truly ashamed. I will change myself.' He was not joking; he genuinely wanted to change. He began to give to charity and even took the initiative to help others. With his resources, he renovated the village, built bridges, and paved roads. The villagers were deeply grateful, and his reputation was completely transformed.

Seeing the changes in Old Lin and Uncle Huang, I changed as well. I became proactive, always looking for ways to help in the village. People began to say that my grandmother had raised me well. She was a woman of great Wisdom. She told me, 'There is no such thing as suffering a loss in this world. As long as you give, you are always gaining. Look at how little you gave, yet you received so much. You learned to farm, you changed Old Lin and Uncle Huang, and you changed yourself. I have seen it all.' She was right. Giving without seeking a reward brings benefits that cannot be measured in money. I finally understood why she had told me not to complain and to work with a smile. I am deeply grateful for her guidance."

The Final Journey

"My grandmother taught me much more than that; I learned boundless Wisdom from her. Her Wisdom was like a spring, flowing endlessly, manifesting in every aspect of our lives. I chose not to marry, a decision influenced by my grandmother. Throughout my growth, she showed me the suffering of life, and I chose not to marry so that I would not cause suffering to a partner. If I had married, my life would have been consumed by family affairs, but by remaining single, I could dedicate my life to serving the public. The value of the latter is far greater, and I chose the path of service.

I lived to the age of sixty. I died when I fell into the water while trying to save a drowning child, suffering a cramp. Only after arriving in the hells did I realise that the child was actually one of my karmic creditors, manifesting at the end of my lifespan to seek revenge. The child was merely an illusion, a projection of that karmic creditor. I thought he was real and jumped in without hesitation, only to drown. The villagers must have been shocked by my death, as I had spent my life doing good deeds, only to leave the world in such a way.

I want to take this opportunity to tell the world: if you have the blessings to hear the Buddha’s teachings, you must seize the chance. Sincerely learn the Buddha’s teachings, change yourself, and resolve conflicts with your karmic creditors to conclude the debts of the past. Because of my unintentional act of saving someone, combined with a lifetime of good deeds, I was given the opportunity to serve as a jailer. In the hells, after meeting the Dharma Body of Practitioner Su, I held onto the Buddha-name tightly. I chanted Namo Amituofo diligently every day and listened to the sutras. I was fortunate enough to be placed on the list for deliverance to the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss by Practitioner Su. My heart is filled with infinite gratitude.

Namo Amituofo.

Liu Zhizhong bows in respect."