This interview features Hsu Chao-shui, a former noodle shop owner from Hengchun, Taiwan, who now serves as an Electricity God. Seeking deliverance from his state as a spirit, he recounts his life, his transition into the spirit realm, and his role in assisting Practitioner Su to bring rain to Taiwan during a severe drought. This interview was recorded on April 26, 2021, at the Hsiang Kuang Buddhist Centre.
Hsu Chao-shui speaks:
". I am Hsu Chao-shui. There are three lights in Taiwan: the Buddha-light, the sunlight, and the electronic light. The electronic light represents the development of Taiwan's industries. Our small, precious island may not have had advantages in geography or political standing, but we have always carved out a bright future for ourselves. The temperament of the Taiwanese people possesses a resilience that refuses to bow to fate. No matter how bitter the days, we grit our teeth and endure. This was the early stage of Taiwan's development, where various industries flourished—including traditional manufacturing and textiles—laying the economic foundation for the island. To reach even greater heights, we developed high-tech electronics, which are now applied in a vast range of fields.
The sunshine in the south is generally pleasant, though at times it is so intense that it can burn your skin. This scorching sun makes us Southerners equally passionate; some of us are even quite magnanimous, never calculating or holding grudges. Even though life is hard, we still manage to laugh through it all."
The Hidden Suffering Beneath the Drought
"Beyond these things, recently Taiwan has been enveloped in Buddha-light. Every strand of this light shines upon the earth and the streams. In the long-dried-up riverbeds, I was shocked to find so many sentient beings: spirits of stones, shrimp, fish, and even birds that had died of thirst. They had suffered long before the rain stopped falling in Taiwan. As the river water receded and the scorching sun beat down, they lacked the water necessary for survival and eventually perished. Even in death, their spirits remained in the river, gasping and struggling. Under the illumination of the Buddha-light, I saw them begin to regain vitality and start to cheer. There were so many of them—far more than the physical eyes could ever imagine. The Buddha-light shines compassionately everywhere; wherever there is a karmic affinity for salvation, there it shall be delivered.
Before I became an Electricity God, I was not a person who believed in Buddhism. But seeing the scene of the Buddha’s compassionate salvation, I could not help but kneel and offer my gratitude. I am grateful to the Buddha for looking after our precious island."
A Simple Life in Hengchun
"I, Hsu Chao-shui, am from Hengchun, Pingtung. Decades ago, this area had not yet been developed into a tourist destination; it was just an inconspicuous little town at the southernmost tip of the south, where everyone was honest and simple. Watching the sea was something I did every single day. Whether I was riding my bicycle to buy breakfast or going to dry preserved radishes, I could always see the vast ocean. Every time I looked at the sea, my heart felt expansive. I call myself a child of the sea. On weekdays, I worked diligently to help my father and mother; on weekends, I would run to the sea with my neighbours, A-Yong and A-Jun. We three big boys would always race to see who could jump into the ocean first, swimming around, having water fights, or burying each other in the sand.
The three of us played together from the age of seven until we were twenty-one. Our decade-long friendship changed slightly when we reached twenty-one. A-Yong was pressured by his mother to take the civil service exam, so he went to the city for tutoring. A-Jun was forced into marriage by his childhood sweetheart, A-Hua, so they wed. On the day A-Jun married A-Hua, I was particularly happy. The day before the wedding, the three of us gathered at A-Jun’s house to spend his last day of bachelorhood together. I asked A-Jun, 'What does it feel like to get married?' A-Jun replied, 'It is like a bitter fruit turning sweet.' I asked, 'Why do you call it bitter?' A-Jun said, 'Because in matters of emotion, although it is sometimes sweet, the friction between two people is also a kind of bitterness. Often, you have to accommodate each other rather than just following your own desires. There are many times when you are angry with me, or I am angry with you.' I asked again, 'If it is so bitter, why would you want to continue?' A-Jun said, 'Marriage is something one must do in life. Since I was small, I watched my father and mother argue and reconcile, and thirty-some years have passed. Of course, having children is also an important part of life, and it is all in my life plan.' I didn't say anything more after that, though A-Yong seemed quite envious of A-Jun."
The Weight of Family Responsibility
"At the wedding banquet the next day, A-Jun and A-Hua looked very sweet, and both sets of parents were old friends who knew each other well and were laughing happily. I raised my glass to congratulate my old friend, happy that he had reached a different stage in his life. A week later, A-Yong left for the city, and A-Hua moved into A-Jun’s house, which was near mine. I could see them every day when I returned home.
As the eldest son, I had to shoulder many responsibilities. My family ran a small food stall selling traditional noodles and side dishes. We opened at eight in the morning and closed at five in the evening, and business was quite good. The shop had been open for a long time, so we had accumulated many regular customers. Everyone loved the dry noodles and fish ball soup my mother cooked, and they loved my father’s 'black-and-white' platter—a local snack. The items were inexpensive and had a local, rustic flavour. Once we opened, customers would come in groups, and my parents would be busy beyond measure. With a shortage of hands, my younger sister A-Qing and I became fixtures in the shop. When we were young, business was so good that my parents, wanting to save money, did everything themselves. Often, when we closed up and went home, they would sit in their reclining chairs and fall asleep instantly. The noodle stall was originally open all year round; it wasn't until my sister and I started helping that we persuaded my parents to rest occasionally, otherwise, their health would collapse. My parents would rub their backs and say, 'That’s true! You are all grown up now, so we don't have to struggle so hard. In the future, this noodle stall will be handed over to you.' I nodded.
My father added, 'Chao-shui, we want to hold grandchildren! Especially since you are the eldest son, having the eldest grandson is very important! Your mother, your father, and even your grandparents care about this. Don't let us down, and don't wait too long—don't wait until we no longer have the strength to hold a grandchild!' I frowned slightly and did not answer. I was only in my twenties, and my parents were already forcing marriage on me. Was it because they were stimulated by seeing A-Jun and A-Hua get married? But I didn't even have a partner yet; how could I get married? This left me feeling somewhat helpless."
A Life of Duty and Transition
"When spring arrived, I heard my mother shout, 'A-Hua has given birth! A-Hua has given birth!' A-Hua had been walking around with a big belly talking to me just a while ago; I didn't expect her to give birth so soon. I asked my mother, 'Is it a chubby boy or a cute girl?' My mother said, 'A-Hua is amazing; she gave birth to a chubby boy in no time.' I immediately went to congratulate A-Jun. To my surprise, as soon as I entered, I saw A-Jun squatting on the floor looking at the child in the cradle, his eyes full of love. I immediately squatted down to look at the baby with him. A-Jun said, 'Chao-shui, you are going to be the child’s godfather!' I nodded, very happy. So, this is what it feels like to be a father. A-Jun added, 'I heard A-Yong passed the civil service exam. He will be working in Kaohsiung from now on.' I replied, 'Is that so? Did he say how often he would come back?' A-Jun shook his head.
A few months later, A-Yong returned and came to our noodle stall to eat. He brought along a city girl who looked very elegant. A-Yong looked radiant; it seemed this was the taste of being in love. A-Yong briefly told me about his work in the city, saying his superiors appreciated him, and that Lizhu, who was by his side, was someone he met at work. I nodded. Seeing that A-Jun already had a family and A-Yong had a partner, I looked back and thought, what about me? Why did I seem to have no for women? Once, Uncle A-Tu introduced me to a girl who was indeed a good person and pretty, but after spending time together several times, there was simply no romantic spark. A-Juan, who loved our noodles and liked me very much—even her parents visited our home to ask for my intentions. Afraid of offending anyone, I could only politely decline. When my mother found out, she held it in for a whole day, and finally, when I returned home, she shouted at me, 'Chao-shui, you don't want this one, you don't want that one. You are already twenty-five, and soon you will be thirty. What are we going to do? What about the incense of the Hsu family?' I stammered, not knowing what to say. My mother asked me very seriously, 'Chao-shui, I ask you, you don't intend to never marry, do you?' I said, 'Mother, I haven't met a girl I have feelings for yet.' My mother breathed a sigh of relief and said, 'Thank goodness you didn't tell me you weren't going to marry at all.' I smiled helplessly. From that day on, my mother actively helped me with matchmaking. She said, 'Matchmaking isn't bad; your father and I met through matchmaking.' I dared not refuse my mother; I had always been an obedient son.
I continued matchmaking until I was thirty and still hadn't found a suitable partner. My mother nervously decided that I should marry Min-shan. On the day of the wedding, I didn't feel the sweet, happy feeling that A-Jun and A-Hua had. I looked at this person in front of me whom I didn't know at all and felt a bit awkward, not knowing what our future life would be like. Fortunately, Min-shan was a wise woman, and I was very considerate of her. After we married, she helped me with the noodle stall business and bore me three children, all of whom played around the stall. My parents looked at their three grandchildren and couldn't stop smiling. A few years later, my parents passed away one after another. Our whole family kept the noodle stall going until I was fifty-six, when suddenly my whole body felt burning hot, and a few days later, I breathed my last. After I died, I saw Min-shan and the children crying for me. My heart was very sad, but I could no longer speak to them."
The Call of the Jade Emperor
"After wandering in my home and the noodle stall for forty-nine days, I was drawn away by a force. The King of Hell said that I hadn't done anything particularly good in this life, but I was sincerely filial. Based on the merits of this life and past lives, I could attain the position of a deity, so I went to a small temple in Hengchun to serve as a deity. My small temple had flourishing incense, with fresh flowers and offerings every day, but I was not greedy; I viewed it as my responsibility to protect the civilians. Unexpectedly, not long ago, I received a summons from the Jade Emperor. The Jade Emperor sat on his throne, solemn and majestic, and said to me, 'When you served as a deity, you were not greedy or biased. Now, I ask you to help with a matter.' I nodded. The Jade Emperor continued, 'Taiwan is lacking water and hasn't had rain for a long time. Since you were a Taiwanese in your previous life, do more for Taiwan.' I nodded happily. The Jade Emperor appointed me to the position of Electricity God for Southern Taiwan.
After accepting the mission, I first went to various places in the south to learn from other Electricity Gods before going to the sky to wait for orders. When we received the mission to bring rain, we gods of wind, rain, thunder, and lightning began to make arrangements. The Jade Emperor told us to follow the arrangements of Practitioner Su. We heard Practitioner Su mention, 'Water must not be wasted; it must be brought to the reservoirs.' This was a very special order, but since that was the case, we had to cooperate. When we arrived above the reservoirs, the entire sky was layered with clouds that might have absorbed the rain we were trying to drop. Just as we were unsure what to do, the of Practitioner Su appeared, leading a large group of monastics. They began to perform constant . After only a short time of deliverance, one could see the accumulated spirits being led toward the light.
Performing Chao Du above the reservoirs was the way Practitioner Su immediately improved the situation for Taiwan’s rain-seeking efforts. Of course, Practitioner Su also walked through every corner of Taiwan with his Body to save all those with karmic affinity. When the space was first opened, many spirits were confused and not even awake. As Practitioner Su performed Chao Du every day, more and more spirits learned to follow the light, and the daily rainfall in the reservoirs increased. Taiwan’s water crisis was finally overcome.
Many Taiwanese spirits saw the light, knelt, and bowed to the Buddha, kneeling to invite Practitioner Su to perform Chao Du. We are grateful to Practitioner Su for giving us the opportunity to participate in this rain-seeking effort and for giving us the chance to be reborn in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. Gratitude.
Namo Amituofo.
Hsu Chao-shui
Memorial Tablet: The Electricity God who sought Chao Du during this rain-seeking effort in Southern Taiwan, the spirits connected to the Electricity God, the deities, and the numerous creatures, countless in number. Represented by: Hsu Chao-shui (seeking purification, seeking restoration, seeking Chao Du).
Entering the at Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre."
