This is a record of an interview with Yan Fengxu, who sought at the Hsiang Kuang Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Land of Nature. This account reflects upon his life approximately 610 years ago. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa, on December 14, 2019.
Yan Fengxu speaks:
". I am Yan Fengxu. Looking back at my life from six centuries ago, I see a journey defined by sudden loss and the quiet, persistent strength of a mother's love. Let me take you back to those mornings, so long ago, when the world felt both vast and incredibly fragile.
A Morning Routine in the Mountains
It is early morning, and the air carries a sharp, biting chill. I open the front door and let out a sneeze, shivering as the cold air bites at my skin. I straighten my back, hoist my bamboo basket onto my shoulders, and prepare to head up the mountain. This is a ritual I perform every single day. As the first light of dawn touches the horizon, I trek into the hills to gather wild vegetables. I know of a specific patch of land deep in the forest where wild taro grows in abundance. Every time I pass that spot, I cast a hopeful glance toward the earth. If there is anything ready for harvest, I carefully place it into my basket to bring home for my mother.
I also know of a hidden grove where large, edible mushrooms grow. They are completely free of toxicity, and the moment I discover them, my heart swells with . I immediately pluck a few to bring home as a small offering of filial piety for my mother. It is a simple life, but it is the only life we have left.
The Day My World Shattered
My home was once whole—a father, a mother, and me. But when I was five years old, everything changed in an instant. I remember lying in bed, listening to my mother hum a soft, gentle melody. It was so soothing that I was drifting off to sleep. My father was nearby, weaving bamboo baskets; he would craft many such items to sell in the town, as that was his trade. Suddenly, a thunderous roar shattered the peace. A neighbour screamed at the top of his lungs, 'Run! Run for your lives! The enemy army has broken through! Escape while you still can!'
My parents were gripped by terror. They pulled me from my bed in a frantic rush. Just as we were about to bolt out the door, my father saw the enemy soldiers charging toward our threshold. He turned to my mother and shouted, 'Take him out through the back door! I will hold them off here!' My mother refused to leave him, standing frozen in her tracks, but my father roared, 'Go! Now!' With a heart-wrenching look of agony, she finally turned away, dragging me through the back exit while tears streamed down her face. I could hear the soldiers shouting behind us, 'They are over there!' My mother, trembling with fear, ran with me until our legs felt like lead. We were in constant danger, our lives hanging by a thread, until we finally collapsed into a hidden mountain cave, gasping for air.
The Search for a Lost Father
Though we survived that day, our home was never the same. My mother insisted on returning to find my father. She told me, 'No matter what happens, I must see your father. Even if he has perished, I must find his remains.' When we finally returned, our home had been utterly destroyed by the enemy. The roof had collapsed, the beams were shattered, and not a single corner remained intact. My mother scoured the ruins, lifting heavy debris with a strength born of desperation, searching for any sign of him. Though I was only a child, I tried my best to help. We searched for an entire day, but we found nothing. My mother sat on the ground, staring blankly into the distance, murmuring to herself, 'Where have you gone?' For three days, we lingered near the ruins, hoping against hope that he would return. Every time the wind rustled the leaves, my mother would jump up, thinking it was him, but he never appeared.
To find shelter, my mother took me to search for relatives in a distant village. She remembered that my father had a younger sister living at the foot of a mountain, and she hoped we might find refuge there. We struggled for a long time, as the entire region had been devastated by the war; many houses had simply vanished. When we finally found the location, the house looked abandoned, draped in thick spiderwebs. My mother asked a neighbour, who told us, 'That young woman ran off with a man years ago. They moved to the city and haven't been seen here for a long time.' My parents had lost touch with her long ago, so we had no idea what had become of her. I pushed the door gently, and to my surprise, it swung open. 'Mother! The door isn't locked!' I cried. She looked inside and sighed, 'It seems your aunt has abandoned this place entirely.' We stepped inside; the furniture was coated in a thick layer of dust, but everything was still in its place. 'We will settle here for now,' she said.
A New Life and the Lesson of Gratitude
My mother and I relied on each other to survive. Life was not easy, but we managed to get by. Some neighbours, seeing our plight, would occasionally share a little food with us. My mother would always tell me, 'No matter how little we have, we must learn to be grateful and give back to those who help us.' I never forgot her teachings. I am deeply grateful for the kindness of those neighbours; without them, we would have surely starved. I made a vow in my heart: 'One day, I will be like them. I will help those who are in need.'
As our lives slowly stabilised, the longing for my father remained a heavy weight on my heart. I knew my mother missed him just as much, but we were both afraid to speak of it, fearing that mentioning his name would only deepen our sorrow. I wore a jade pendant around my neck—a family heirloom my father had given me when I was four years old. He had been so afraid that we might be separated one day that he gave it to me early, as if he had a premonition. I never imagined his fears would come true. Every night, I would clutch that jade pendant as I fell asleep, imagining he was still by my side. I missed him so much, but where was he? I had to bury that longing deep within my heart. It was painful, but I had to endure it. Only then could I find the strength to keep living each day."
My mother was incredibly skilled with her hands. Just like my father, she was a master of weaving. Every day, my task was to head into the mountains to gather the materials she needed. She would weave them into all sorts of practical household items, which I would then take to the market to sell. One day, I set off for the city as usual, carrying the goods my mother had crafted. The journey from our home to the city was long and arduous, requiring a significant amount of time to traverse. Normally, I would walk with a brisk pace, eager to sell my wares quickly so I could return home to be with my mother. But on this particular day, for reasons I cannot explain, I walked with a distracted, wandering mind.
A Ghostly Encounter
As I passed in front of a shop, my eyes were drawn to its sign, which bore the characters for 'Bamboo Art.' My father had loved bamboo crafts more than anything else when he was alive. Whenever he took me past such a shop, he would always insist on stepping inside to browse. He had a remarkable gift; he could observe any object, and upon returning home, he could immediately replicate it perfectly. My mother and I were always in awe of his craftsmanship. I stood at the threshold of the shop, gazing inside, as a flood of memories of my father rushed into my heart. Just as I was about to turn away, I saw a figure walk past me—a back that looked exactly like his. My eyes lit up, and I sprinted forward, desperate to find him, but the figure vanished as quickly as he had appeared. No matter how hard I searched, he was nowhere to be found. I couldn't help but doubt myself: 'Did I just imagine it?' For several days, whenever I passed that shop, I would stop and scan the area, hoping to catch another glimpse of that familiar silhouette, but my waiting was in vain.
Just as I was about to give up in despair, that figure appeared once more! I had not been mistaken; it was truly my father! I shouted at the top of my lungs, 'Father!' He turned to look at me, but there was no reaction at all. He simply returned to his work. I was stunned. 'It really is him!' I rushed forward, my heart overflowing with joy, and cried out, 'Father! I have finally found you!' The man looked at me with confusion and asked, 'Who is this child calling for?' I was completely frozen. How could my father not recognize me? I told him, 'I am Fengxu, Father! Have you forgotten me?' He replied, 'Fengxu? I have never heard that name.' He asked the people around him, and they all shook their heads; no one knew who I was. Before I could figure out what was happening, I dared not tell my mother, fearing she would become too agitated and rush out to find him herself.
The Hidden Truth
After that day, I hid in the distance every day to watch him. He and a few companions had set up a stall, selling strange items I had never seen before. I watched his movements, his demeanor, and his facial expressions—they were exactly as they had always been. Yet, the father I saw now carried no smile on his face. I could feel that he was not living a happy life. But I could not understand: why did he not recognize me? One day, as my father was drinking from a cup, a companion bumped into him, spilling water all over him. As he rolled up his sleeve to wipe it off, I became certain that this man was indeed my father! On his arm was a red birthmark that I had seen since I was a child. It was identical. I believed that it was impossible for anyone else in this world to have a birthmark exactly like that! While he stepped aside, I rushed forward and grabbed his hand, refusing to let go. 'Father! You really are my father! Why have you abandoned me?' He shook his head at me, saying nothing, but I continued to call out to him. Finally, he pulled me into a secluded corner and whispered, 'Fengxu, I am indeed your father. I have endured these past few days without acknowledging you because I was afraid, but seeing you like this breaks my heart. I knew you were hiding nearby watching me, but I had to feign indifference for fear that those around me would notice my attachment. Is your mother well? I miss her dearly, but I cannot return home now because the enemy is constantly monitoring me. They spared my life only to force me to work for them until they successfully conquer this entire town. They promised to let me go then, but I know that by the time that day comes, I will likely not survive. Although I am a pawn in their hands, I will never betray our civilians. I will do everything in my power to protect our people and ensure no one is harmed, even if it means sacrificing my own life. I have deeply experienced the pain of being separated from my family, and I only wish for everyone to be safe. Fengxu, I do not dare to hope for another chance to see you all again. Even if I am not by your side, you must learn to take care of yourself. I do not ask you to become a high official or achieve great success; I only hope that for as long as you live in this world, you will use your abilities to save others. In these days, I have deeply felt the suffering of living in this world. You must also know this suffering, but I do not want you to be attached to it. Rather, you must understand that all of this is truly an illusion. Remember my words well. No matter if we have the chance to meet again, I will always be your father. If you follow my words, that will be the greatest act of filial piety you can offer me. I cannot say more; I am being watched. Go quickly! It is dangerous here. If there is no reason to be here, do not come back. Go now!' I looked at him with such reluctance, but his gaze was so firm that I understood: I must learn to be like him, to sacrifice myself for the sake of others. Only then would my life in this world not be in vain.
A Final Farewell
The next day, I could not help but circle back to see him, but his figure was gone! The men who usually stood by his side were there as always, but he was nowhere to be seen. Where had he gone? I waited and waited, but he never appeared. I finally gathered the courage to ask, 'Excuse me, the uncle who was standing next to you yesterday, why is he not here today?' The man replied impatiently, 'He is dead! Those who betray us deserve to die! Do not ask any more questions!' I was completely stunned. 'Could it be that they found out about him acknowledging me yesterday? That must be it! Father!' I could barely hold back my tears. I ran away from the crowd and hid in a deserted corner, sobbing uncontrollably. I never imagined that yesterday would be the last time I would ever see my father. My heart was filled with immense grief. After crying for a long time, I suddenly realized: 'If they found out about yesterday, doesn't that mean they saw me too?' Just as this thought crossed my mind, I heard footsteps running toward my hiding spot. Panic surged through me, and I fled in the opposite direction. I had to run home to take my mother away; only by leaving this place immediately could I save both our lives.
When I returned home and saw my mother, the anxious pounding in my heart finally settled. Seeing my panicked state, she asked with concern, 'What is wrong? Why are you back so early, and why are you panting so hard?' I had no time to explain. I only told her, 'Mother, we cannot stay here any longer. We must flee immediately!' With that, I grabbed a few essential items and clothes, wrapped them in a cloth, and led my mother away from that dangerous place.
A Life of Exile
My mother and I once again embarked on a life of flight. This time, we had to go even further. Along the way, fierce winds constantly howled, and in some places, heavy rain poured down. We ran and stopped, ran and stopped. Whenever we found a safe place, we would take shelter from the wind and rain; if no such place existed, we had no choice but to keep running. For an entire month, we lived like this, until we reached a remote region where the heavy burden of anxiety finally began to lift from my heart.
I never told my mother about my father. I could not bear to cut open the wound in her heart that had not yet healed. So, I pretended that nothing had happened. But I knew clearly in my heart that after what my father had told me, I was no longer the same Fengxu. I carried the mission he had entrusted to me—to save others. This was something I would never forget, something I would do for the rest of my life, and it was the greatest act of filial piety I could offer him.
My mother and I settled in a very remote tribe. The residents were incredibly simple and kind. They preserved the most primitive customs and traditions. They welcomed us, the two new arrivals, with open arms, treating us like honored guests. They even lent us a communal house to live in. Although the dwelling was humble, it was enough to shelter us from the wind and rain. Our hearts were filled with gratitude, and we thanked them repeatedly.
Reflections Under the Stars
On the third night after moving into the tribe, my heart finally found true peace. My mother was asleep, and I sat alone on the ground outside, gazing at the stars in the night sky. They were densely packed, countless in number, each one clear and dazzling. If every person were a star in the sky, which one would I be among so many? Although I was only ten years old, in these short ten years, my heart felt as if it had lived through so much more than others. Should I call it maturity? Or had I already seen through the nature of this life? Children of my age were enjoying their time, playing outside every day, only needing to remember to come home for dinner. But I was different. I began to actively seek ways to save others. As long as I lived in this world, I would never forget this mission.
If I could choose my life all over again, would I regret being born into this world? My answer is a firm no. Although I experienced many tribulations shortly after birth and lived a life of instability, those hardships helped me realise just how helpless the human heart truly is. I discovered that the more unsettled people feel, the more they seek emotional comfort to fill that void of anxiety. Yet, emotions can never provide a permanent refuge. When that comfort is lost, the resulting pain is an incomparable torment. My mission is to save people. It is not about earning vast sums of money to give away in charity so that people can live comfortably—not at all. Even for the wealthiest person, the heart remains unsettled, and life will still reach its end one day. What I seek to save is the human heart. Only by helping people find peace of mind, a place for their hearts to belong, and a true refuge, can one be said to be truly saving them.
The Search for Peace
I set out in search of this goal. Although it felt as difficult as searching for a needle in the ocean, I did not give up; I travelled everywhere, asking questions. One day, while lying by a riverbank and gazing at the vast blue sky, a young man lay down beside me. He asked, 'My name is Li Xiang. I saw you lying here from a distance and wondered what you were thinking about.' Li Xiang did not look like a resident of the local tribe; he seemed to be a traveller like me. I told him, 'I am searching for peace of mind.' Li Xiang sat up in surprise and looked at me. He said, 'You are also looking for peace of mind? I have been walking for over a month, searching for it, but I have never found it.' I replied, 'It must exist; we just haven't found it yet. The hearts of all people in this world are unsettled. Only when I find the method to achieve peace of mind can I save others.' Li Xiang continued, 'This tribe is not where I intend to stay. I am just passing through. My true destination is a mountain further south. I have heard that the practitioners living there can provide the true explanation for peace of mind. I am heading there now. If you are willing, you may join me.' I agreed without a moment's hesitation.
The Mountain of Silence
With only a simple bag of belongings, I immediately set off south with Li Xiang. Along the way, Li Xiang shared his life story with me. He was the young master of a wealthy family. Although he never had to worry about food or clothing, he could never find peace of mind. Seeing that everyone around him was the same, he resolved to find the method to attain it. We walked for fifteen days until we finally reached the foot of the mountain. We were so excited to continue our climb, looking forward to seeing the magnificent temple we had heard so much about.
After walking for a long time, we saw nothing but dense forest; there was no sign of a temple. We climbed higher and higher until we reached the summit, only to find a small thatched hut. There was nothing else. Li Xiang asked in confusion, 'Could this not be the right mountain?' We stood on the peak and looked down, but still, we could not see any temple architecture. The sky began to darken with heavy clouds, and it looked like a massive storm was coming. Li Xiang and I looked around, and the only shelter we could find was that thatched hut. Large raindrops began to fall on our heads. Li Xiang shouted, 'Run! The rain is getting heavier!' We rushed to the hut, only to find that it had no door! Above the entrance were three characters: 'Heart-Peace Abode'. Li Xiang and I looked at each other, our initial disappointment replaced by a surge of excitement. We shouted, 'Is anyone here?' There was no response. Li Xiang said, 'The hut is so small; if someone were here, they would surely hear us. Could it be that no one lives here?' I said, 'No, look, the water is still boiling. Someone must live here.' I shouted again, 'May we borrow shelter from the rain?' Suddenly, a dishevelled old man walked out. He acted as if he did not see us at all. He walked to a tea table and poured the freshly boiled water into a teapot. Li Xiang and I exchanged glances. I asked, 'Could this old man be deaf?' We deliberately walked in front of him to greet him, but the old man simply picked up his tea and drank it slowly, seemingly oblivious to our presence. Li Xiang said, 'Could he be blind as well?' We sat down in front of him, watching as he slowly finished his tea. The cup looked like it had been used for a long time and was even chipped at the edge, yet the old man continued to use it. After finishing his tea, he stood up and walked to the back. I asked Li Xiang, 'Should we stay here?' Li Xiang replied, 'Perhaps this old man is the one who can give us peace of mind.'
The Selfless Offering
The old man returned from the back carrying a bowl of raw white rice. He picked out the insects one by one, then took a small handful of rice, placed it in water, and began to cook a thin porridge. Li Xiang and I remained sitting in front of him, watching intently. Suddenly, both of our stomachs growled with hunger. We watched as the old man drank the porridge, and after he was full, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, likely falling asleep. We continued to sit there until he woke up, but by then, it was already dark. Li Xiang could not help but ask, 'Excuse me, may we stay here for the night?' The old man did not react, so we simply lay down by the tea table and spent the night.
The next day, when we opened our eyes, the old man was gone. We ran outside and saw him carrying a bucket of water to irrigate his vegetables, and he had also picked some greens for breakfast. He placed the blanched vegetables on a plate and cooked a pot of thin porridge with only a few grains of rice. After he ate a bowl, I saw there was some left in the pot, so I asked him, 'May we eat the remaining porridge?' The old man still did not react, so Li Xiang and I ate the porridge and the greens ourselves, feeling deeply satisfied.
This continued for several days. We followed the old man everywhere. Although we never spoke a word and never even exchanged a glance, for some reason, what the old man gave us was 'peace of mind'. One day, my calm heart was suddenly stirred because my foot was bitten by a venomous snake. Li Xiang nervously sucked out the venom and applied medicinal herbs, which saved my life. Just then, a wild beast rushed toward the hut. The old man stood before the beast without moving an inch. He spoke some words to the creature, then took a knife and sliced a piece of flesh from his own body to feed it. The beast ate the flesh and left. The old man was bleeding, so he used a bowl to collect his blood until the herbs stopped the flow. He placed the bowls of blood on the ground, and animals naturally approached to drink it. The old man sat in the courtyard, and wild birds landed on his head, looking for grass to build their nests. The old man simply took his knife and cut off his own long hair to let the birds use it for their nests. All of the old man's actions shocked me deeply. To him, his entire body could be offered; as long as someone needed it, he could give it. I knelt before him and sincerely asked, 'Can you teach us the method for peace of mind?' The old man handed me the knife and said, 'I will dig out my heart and give it to you!' I looked at him in astonishment; he was even willing to let go of his heart. The old man said, 'I live in this world only for others, not for myself. As long as others need me, I can give. I do not need this body, and even less do I need this heart. My heart has never been used; if you want it, of course I can give it to you.' I looked back at the words on the hut: 'Heart-Peace Abode'. It turned out that the old man had no heart. Through his completely selfless offering, he had attained true peace of mind and liberation.
The Path of No-Mind
For several more days, we continued to live in the old man's hut. He lived his life in peace, but the difference was that when we asked, he answered. When we did not ask, it was as if we and the old man existed in different spaces, with no intersection at all. He was just that free.
After leaving the old man, Li Xiang and I each strove forward on our own paths of practice. What I learned in this life was nothing else but to learn a heart of 'no-mind' and freedom. I use 'no-mind' to save the human heart, and I use freedom to study the Buddha’s teachings. I truly achieved success on the Buddha's path, benefiting both myself and others, all attained through the 'void'—clearing the dust and achieving liberation.
The essence of the Buddha’s teachings does not lie in how much one understands between the lines; a heart of 'no-mind' surpasses everything. Practitioner Su saves endless beings with a truly 'no-mind' state. Within this 'no-mind', one naturally perceives boundless mind-capacity and immeasurable , viewing all beings as oneself. A life of freedom does not lie in how many things one possesses in this world that cannot be taken away, but in having wisdom as vast as the sea, to be used at will. The purpose of living in this world is not to enjoy this false, dusty realm, but to rescue the spirits within this dust who are willing to cleanse themselves.
Practitioner Su’s performs Chao Du every day. No matter how complex the time and space, Practitioner Su’s Dharma Body can resolve everything. The golden key to this resolution is nothing else but compassion and mind-capacity. It sounds easy, but for people in this world, it is so difficult, simply because people have bodies, while Practitioner Su has no body; people have hearts, while Practitioner Su truly has no-mind.
The golden words that resolve the heart are spoken by Practitioner Su every day. Is your heart at peace? If you can truly understand the Truth and the great meaning, truly follow the teachings, and let go of body and mind, your heart will be at peace.
Gratitude to Practitioner Su for his compassion.
Namo Amituofo.
Interview recorded by the chief writer, disciple Shi Fajing.
