The Burden of Karmic Retribution

This is a record of an interview with Long Zhong, who sought deliverance 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 approximately 220 years ago. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa, on July 27, 2019.

Long Zhong speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. A single fallen leaf drifted on the wind, landing right at my feet. I lowered my head to look at it, then lifted my gaze to the path ahead. The street, which had been bustling just moments before, became instantly deserted the moment I appeared. No one dared to come near me. Only this leaf at my feet did not shun me; it remained there, keeping me company.

I was a child no one could love. From the moment my mother brought me into this world, I was afflicted with a strange and terrible disease. My skin was constantly red, swollen, and itching, breaking out in sores that often emitted an unbearable stench. The condition fluctuated; at its worst, my face was so ravaged by rot that my own features were unrecognisable. The pain was so intense that I could never find rest in my bed. It was a suffering beyond words.

A Life Defined by Rejection

None of the villagers had ever seen such a strange illness. One elder remarked, 'Others have had this disease in the past; it is highly contagious.' The moment he uttered the word 'contagious,' the villagers were terrified. Not a single person dared to appear before me, fearing that a single moment of proximity would infect them. It was not just the villagers; even my own siblings, those closest to me by blood, dared not approach. My mother, though she remained my mother, looked at me with eyes that betrayed a deep, underlying fear. Everyone was terrified of catching my incurable disease, and they all kept their distance. I understood their hearts perfectly—they were all wishing for me to leave, to take the source of this sickness away from their village.

There were many times I nearly lost my life, as the disease grew so severe that it ravaged my respiratory tract. During those darkest moments, I truly wished to just let go and leave this world behind. This body had been tortured until it was unrecognisable. Once, I might have cared about how others perceived me, but when the pain became so great that even speaking was a struggle, I could no longer concern myself with the gazes of others. I could not change the fact that I was ill, and the pain would not lessen simply because people looked away. The loneliness in my heart had accompanied me since birth, never once fading. What is the warmth of a family? In my life, I never knew it, for my family kept me at arm's length. I longed to find a hidden place to crawl into, where no one would ever see me again, so they would not have to fear my illness, and I would not have to hide in the shadows, terrified of being seen.

The Pain of a Mother's Fear

One day, my mother scolded me harshly, pointing her finger at me in anger because my hand had accidentally brushed against her clothing. The moment she saw her garment touched by me, she rushed to the well and began scrubbing it frantically, terrified that she might contract my strange disease if she wore it. Her reaction broke my heart. She was the mother who gave me life; I was her own flesh and blood, yet she treated me like a terrifying stranger. In the six years since I was born, I had never received a shred of affection or warmth from her. I truly did not know what the meaning of my existence in this world could possibly be.

I loved the sunlight, but my skin would not allow me to stand under the harsh glare of the sun. I sat under the shade of a tree, gazing at the sky through the gaps in the leaves. It was a pure, deep blue, without a single cloud. I looked at that expanse of blue and emptied my mind completely. I did not want to think, I did not want to worry. This body made me feel so exhausted; I only wanted to lean against the tree and let my entire being relax. A gentle breeze brushed against my face, and in that fleeting moment, I forgot the pain of my body. I felt so comfortable, so incredibly comfortable. As I sat there, I drifted off to sleep without even realising it.

A Glimpse into the Hells

Whenever I fell into a deep sleep, my spirit would automatically detach from my body, leaving the physical shell behind to observe the world outside or travel into other realms. During that afternoon nap, my spirit departed once again. Strangely, this time I found myself in a place of absolute darkness. There was only a narrow path ahead. I followed it, moving endlessly through the dark. After walking for some time, I began to hear various screams echoing in my ears. The sounds grew clearer and clearer. I looked up and realised I had arrived at the gates of hell. Those screams were the cries of sinners being tortured; every single sound was piercing, filled with such profound sorrow and agony.

I did not know why my spirit had come to hell. When I took another step forward, I was terrified! The person being tortured before my eyes was none other than myself! It turned out that a part of my spirit had been suffering in hell all along. I watched, helpless, as my skin was peeled away layer by layer. My body was covered in blood, not a single inch of flesh remained intact. No matter what the prison guards did to my body, I seemed unable to die. I fainted from the pain many times, but the guards would blow a breath onto my face or splash water on me, and I would wake up instantly, my body restored to its original state, only for the torture to begin all over again. It was unbearable. I wanted to know why I had to endure such punishment. If I had not created such heavy sins in the past, I could not possibly be suffering for no reason in this life. The prison guard listed the sins I had committed one by one, and I trembled in every limb. I never imagined that I had been a person who committed every kind of evil. To get what I wanted, every life in my hands was like a toy, easily played with and discarded, never worth cherishing. Everything I suffered in this lifetime was nothing compared to the pain I had inflicted upon those I had harmed. The resentment in my heart settled at that moment. I no longer complained about why I had contracted this strange disease, for all of this was of my own making. The coldness of the villagers was justified; I had once made others feel just as miserable. My skin rotting so that I could not sleep was also justified, for I had once used so many poisons to harm others.

The Truth of Cause and Effect

I repented incessantly for the sins I had created, bowing and apologising to those I had harmed. I did not ask for their forgiveness; I only hoped they would no longer have to suffer. My heart was sincere, without a shred of falsehood, because the suffering I had endured these past days had taught me how painful it is to be a human being.

A gust of wind blew, and a leaf fell from the tree, waking me from my vision. My spirit quickly returned to my body. At that moment, my body no longer felt painful, because my state of mind had changed. Every bit of suffering I endured now was no longer seen as suffering, but as a deep compassion for the beings I had harmed in the past. When I looked at the villagers, including my parents and siblings, and realised they were all people I had harmed in the past, I knelt on the ground, unable to utter a single word. Fate had arranged it this way; what right did I have to beg them to pity my plight? Now, no matter how coldly they treated me or how they mocked me behind my back, I accepted it all with joy, for this was the karmic retribution I was due.

The laws of karma and cause and effect are real and true. When I saw the existence of karma with my own eyes, I no longer doubted. I knew my personality was poor; I was prone to anger, and I often felt inferior and isolated. It was not just that others were afraid to be around me; my own nature made it hard to integrate with others. I resolved to change, refusing to allow myself to continue creating karma. My once selfish mindset began to shift. I no longer thought only of my own body, but learned to think more of others. When I focused my attention on the masses, I realised that the suffering I endured was nothing. Every person has their own karma; though the suffering differs, the internal devastation is like a sharp blade cutting through the heart.

A New Path of Service

I made a vow to begin serving the public, but no one was willing to let me do anything, as the very sight of my disease scared everyone away. In such circumstances, I had to seize moments when no one was watching to do things that benefited the public. I hoped I could contribute a portion of my strength to the village. When I became so absorbed in my work that I forgot myself, I also forgot the pain in my body. Sometimes, I would not feel pain for an entire day because I was busy serving others, with no time to think of my own agony. The less I paid attention to my wounds, the faster they seemed to heal. But whenever selfish thoughts arose, the wounds would begin to fester again, returning to their original state. These wounds seemed to be guarding me, checking whether my change was sincere and lasting.

From a certain day on, a new wound appeared on my legs, and it began to rot with terrifying speed. I did not know what was happening. I had been doing good deeds for days, so why were the wounds becoming more severe? The sores were rotting so deeply that the bone was almost visible, and I could no longer walk normally. At first, I used a crutch for support, but eventually, even the crutch could not help me move. I sat by the window in despair, looking at the blue sky outside. No matter how beautiful the sky was, I could no longer go out to enjoy it. Sunlight spilled into the room from the window, and I felt a touch of warmth; in that cold, lonely room, this little bit of sunlight was the only thing that brought me comfort."

One day, there was a knock at the door. My mother had strictly forbidden me from ever appearing in public, so I hid in my room, listening to her speak with the visitor. It turned out to be a monk who had come to our home for alms. His master had specifically instructed him to visit our household. My mother offered him some of our food, and the monk asked, "Is there not a child in this house who is suffering from a grave illness?" My mother looked at him in astonishment: "How could you possibly know I have a sick son?" The monk replied, "It was my master who specifically told me to come and check on him." My mother glanced toward the back of the house, and our eyes met. I had been hiding there the whole time, eavesdropping on their conversation. She gave me a sharp look; though she didn't say a word, I understood exactly what she meant: "Who told you to eavesdrop!" She then walked toward me and brought me out to meet the monk.

A Lesson in Selflessness

My legs were unable to walk, so my mother placed me on a wooden board and dragged me into the living room. I respectfully performed a prostration to the monk. Although I could not perform it perfectly due to my physical condition, my heart was completely sincere, and the monk could sense this deeply. He examined the wounds on my body and said, "You have already improved significantly. While you wish to perform good deeds and help others, you must learn to do so with a more selfless heart. If you perform good deeds with a hidden agenda or a desire for personal gain, not only will there be no merit, but your own selfishness will be mixed into the act." As soon as he said this, I understood. I realised that the reason my wounds had been worsening lately was precisely because of my selfishness. This subtle mental note had escaped my notice entirely. At first, I had truly served the public with a sincere heart, giving without expectation of reward. But as my wounds began to heal, my heart underwent a subtle change—a desire for a specific outcome. Every time I performed a good deed, I was secretly hoping my wounds would heal faster. It was this selfish thought that made my wounds worse, for my heart was no longer pure. The monk’s guidance gave me an "Aha!" moment; I realised that such a slight deviation in my thoughts carried a heavy price.

The Promise of Three Lifetimes

My mother asked curiously, "May I ask if you and my son were already acquainted?" The monk nodded, "Acquainted, yes, we are acquainted. Your son is no ordinary person. I have been waiting for him to make the vow to return; I have been waiting for three lifetimes, and in this lifetime, I have finally found him." My mother looked stunned, and I was completely bewildered, having no idea what the monk was talking about. He did not elaborate further, only telling me, "Continue to perform good deeds and practise diligent chanting of Namo Amituofo, and your wounds will heal completely." His words gave me immense confidence. I began to learn how to serve others with an even more selfless heart. No matter what kind of feedback or treatment I received in the process, I kept telling myself: "Only when there is a 'self' does one experience suffering."

A Miraculous Recovery

My wounds healed day by day. I understood that my physical recovery was not meant for me to continue indulging in the worldly realm, but rather to become more aware of the terror of samsara and to vow to save all beings still trapped in the six realms of existence. I actively participated in all kinds of Buddhist activities, doing everything within my power. By the time I was fifteen, my body had completely recovered. Many people were astonished when they saw me; they had never imagined I would one day be whole again. My appearance became more dignified than ever before, as my heart had been tempered during this time, learning how to treat others with greater compassion.

The Buddha’s teachings did not teach me selfishness; rather, they taught me to view everyone around me with an equal heart. The Buddha’s teachings on mind-capacity taught me not to be petty like the rest of the world, but to cultivate a selfless, great compassion. In the temple, I practised diligently. I had to elevate myself, to purify this body of filth within the five turbid realms, so that I could reclaim a pure body as clear as polished glass, using this transparent heart to save boundless beings.

Returning to the Western Pure Land

At the age of twenty-one, I received the Precepts and became a true disciple of the Buddha, shouldering the responsibility of the Tathagata’s work to serve all beings. I dedicated all the merit I had accumulated throughout my life to all sentient beings, wishing that they might all find liberation and leave suffering behind. My daily teachings were aimed at nothing more than helping beings wake up as soon as possible. I strove to give without seeking reward, hoping only that everyone could attain the Way and find liberation. In this lifetime, I ended the cycle of rebirth and returned to the Western Pure Land to meet my compassionate father, Amitabha Buddha. I realised that the physical suffering I endured in this life was something I had willingly accepted. If I had not gone through that suffering, it would have been difficult for me to wake up from this turbid world. I am deeply grateful for the Buddha’s compassion.

The Mission of Practitioner Su

Practitioner Su’s Chao Du team travels majestically through the six realms and the ten directions of the Dharma Realm every day. Beyond the universe, there are countless spirits waiting to be saved. Every day, many more volunteers join this mission, moved by Practitioner Su’s compassion, vowing to follow Amitabha Buddha to save these spirits who are still suffering in samsara. The Buddha is compassionate; without Practitioner Su’s powerful acts of Chao Du, how many more spirits would still be trapped in darkness, unable to see the light?

Practitioner Su’s heart rests in the Western Pure Land, yet remains tethered to the suffering of beings in this worldly realm. Even as his physical body endures all manner of trials and tribulations, Practitioner Su’s firm resolve to save beings remains unchanged. Even if a great fire were right before him, Practitioner Su would remain fearless, leaping forward to transcend yet another level of existence. People of this world should learn from Practitioner Su’s heart. Since there is no end to the number of beings to be saved, only by vowing to act for the sake of all can we help them find liberation and leave suffering behind. I am grateful for Practitioner Su’s compassion. Namo Amituofo.

This interview was recorded and written by the disciple Shi Fa Jing.