The Peace-Maker's Journey to the Pure Land

This is a record of an interview with Shi Dongnu, a spirit who sought Chao Du at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Dharma-Nature Land. This account reflects upon his life and spiritual journey spanning over two millennia, during which he served as a silent guardian of the suffering. Recorded by the chief writer, Fa Ning, on February 24, 2026.

Shi Dongnu speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am Shi Dongnu. From the very moment I entered this world, I was a man of extraordinary stature. The people in my village found it quite perplexing, for my parents were not tall, yet I arrived in this world far exceeding the size, weight, and physical presence of any other infant. My parents were truly astonished; after all, our family lineage was known for being small in frame. I was born during the era of the Seven Warring States, a time when the land was fractured by relentless conflict and the common people lived in utter, soul-crushing misery. Everywhere one looked, there was the gnawing ache of hunger and the biting chill of cold. How could I have grown so large in such a time of scarcity? Although our family had many children, we were fortunate enough to have enough to eat. Because of the virtue accumulated by our ancestors—who had once been successful in the noodle trade—we had some modest savings. Even though the business was not as prosperous as it once was, my parents were diligent and frugal, and they were also people of great kindness. Whenever someone in the village was in need, they would share our grain and noodles rather than hoarding them for profit, choosing to nourish the community instead of merely securing their own comfort."

A Giant Among Men

"That is the essence of my family background. I was born in the State of Chu, one of the major powers of that time. As a child, my parents taught me the classics of Confucius and Mencius. While few children from backgrounds like ours had the opportunity to study—as inheriting the family business did not require knowledge of ancient texts—my parents knew that this was the foundation of a child's character. They refused to let me grow up knowing only how to sell noodles. Thus, my siblings and I were all educated by our father; it was the family tradition passed down through generations. Being the ninth child, with only one younger brother below me, I was fortunate enough to escape the state's conscription for the army. However, given my size and strength, everyone felt it was a great pity that I should spend my life selling noodles. They thought I was born to be a mighty warrior, a giant who could turn the tide of any battle.

I often pondered this myself: if I were to join the army, would my life have any different meaning? Because my family taught me to benefit the country and the people, I knew that my life could not be lived for myself alone. I had to exert my greatest strength to help others. Yet, I hesitated. I wondered if joining the military was truly the only path. Everyone claimed that the nation was in peril and needed more soldiers to defend it, but even as a child, I felt a deep, instinctive fear of war. I was not afraid of death—I could die for the sake of many if it truly helped them—but I could never find the meaning in war itself. It felt like a hollow pursuit, a cycle of destruction that offered no real salvation to the people it claimed to protect."

The Burden of Conscience

"Our State of Chu had conquered many smaller nations to reach its current size. But for those people in the defeated states, had their lives truly improved? Had the war actually helped them? I thought to myself: if war only serves to make one nation appear more powerful, with larger borders, more resources, and higher status, all at the cost of the lives of people from smaller nations—a life for a life, for we are all human—then what is the meaning of it all? It felt like a grand, tragic illusion.

I tried to explain this reasoning to many people, but few seemed to understand. I told them that I wished to repay the kindness of my country, but I did not want to fight or kill. When I said this, the neighbours would mock me, calling me a coward who was afraid of death. They said that despite my large and powerful frame, I was weak for not daring to take up a spear and kill the enemy. I imagined what it would be like to kill—to take a living, breathing life. It seemed impossible for me to do such a thing, especially when the 'enemy' was not an evil person, but simply someone from a different state with a different stance. Even as a teenager, no matter what the neighbours said, I remained firm in my conviction. I believed that I could serve my country without having to kill. At that time, the only people who truly understood me were my grandmother and my mother; they supported me unconditionally, seeing the depth of my heart beneath my imposing exterior."

Witnessing the Scars of War

"When I reached the age of marriage, I refused the arrangements made by my family. If I were to save people, I had to be ready to go wherever I was needed. How could I help others if I were tied down by a family? It would be too complicated, and I did not want that burden. So, when I was nearly twenty, I set out alone to find my own path.

I had never left our village in my life. This journey was undertaken with a heart full of desire to help others. As I walked beyond the neighbouring villages and reached a riverbank, I witnessed a scene of misery I had never imagined. In the village ahead, the river had turned red, and the air was filled with piercing screams. I was shocked and rushed to the village to investigate. Many had already been slaughtered; bodies lay everywhere. I saw only women, children, and the elderly weeping and wailing, for their husbands, fathers, and sons had all been cut down. My heart sank. Was this the reality I had to face upon leaving home?

I did not think twice; I immediately began to act, helping the women move the bodies of their loved ones to the outskirts of the village for burial. My heart seemed to mature in an instant. I realised this was the suffering of the world, and this was when the people needed me most. My heart was heavy, for such things were hard to accept, but upon learning that their village had been destroyed simply because someone had offended the enemy while trying to defend the country, my stance was further solidified: the nation was tearing itself apart, and people were dying for the sake of state borders. This was not what I wanted. I did not need to join the army to prove my loyalty; I could give everything I had to every person I encountered who needed help. Even if I had to sacrifice my own life, it would not be in vain. That would be the true use of my strength."

Two Millennia as a Guardian of Peace

"After settling the people in the village, I moved on to the next place. Along the way, I had little money. Sometimes I lived on wild vegetables and fruits; sometimes kind people gave me food, and I was happy to accept it while looking for ways to serve in return. I walked and stopped, walked and stopped, from a twenty-year-old youth into my forties. I do not know why, but it seemed as if the Heavens were watching over me, knowing my intent, and always placing me where I was needed. My heart remained calm. Having seen the many facets of human life, I was more certain than ever of the path I had chosen—not one of war, nor one of marriage and family.

When I was in my fifties, I sacrificed my life while helping people escape a flood and a river disaster. This fulfilled the wish of my youth—to be someone who sacrificed himself to help others. I did not feel sad to die in such a way; it felt like a completion of my purpose.

After death, I soon reported to the Jade Emperor. He told me that I had ascended to the heavens and that I could choose to remain there or continue to do good in the human world as a deity. I chose the latter without hesitation, for I saw that the land of China was about to erupt into war after war. I saw countless homes shattered and lives lost, scenes flashing before my eyes. I knew I had to continue saving people; it was something I could do.

Thus, I returned to the land of China, continuing to guard the people. Wherever there was war, I went there to help reduce the casualties and to bring peace to the resentful spirits in the space. I was happy to do this. People called me the 'God of Peace' because I did not wish to see war; I simply helped the people live stable, peaceful, and prosperous lives. For over two thousand years, through the rise and fall of dynasties—from the Warring States to the unification of Qin, the stability of the Han, the Three Kingdoms, and the endless cycles of division and unity—I helped people without bias. Whether they were Chinese or foreigners, I made no distinction. I guarded not only the people on this land but also those in the surrounding nations who were being bullied. I remember decades ago, when the war broke out in Vietnam, I was in southern China and went there to help the people caught in the conflict."

The Golden Light of Deliverance

"Not long ago, while I was patrolling the north of China, looking for areas in need, I suddenly heard the six-character name 'Namo Amituofo' resounding through the air. It shook me, this humble 'God of Peace,' wide awake! I saw a brilliant golden light illuminating the earth. I watched from within that light as countless beings on the ground moved toward it—they were as dense as rain, but this was a rain falling upward, rushing straight into the light. At the same time, I was drawn into the light, and in an instant, I arrived in another world. I thought it was the heavens I had visited before, the realm of the Jade Emperor. But when I looked, this place was far more beautiful and dignified. Lotus flowers served as my seat, and when I looked up, I saw Namo Amituofo radiating golden light upon us all. Practitioner Su was also smiling at us. This was my first time seeing Namo Amituofo and Practitioner Su, and I knew they were the two Buddhas who had come to save us. This place is called the Western Dharma-Nature Land.

I saw many of my brothers from the Chinese region here, many of whom were astonished by their own appearance. Everyone had suddenly been restored to their original, beautiful, dignified, young, and clean state. Some who had been covered in wounds, blood, or missing limbs were all restored. The power of the Buddha is truly inconceivable! We know that the Buddha-light is full of energy; it helps open our hearts and brings us peace and security. This is a truly magical place. I have settled down peacefully and begun my path of practice."

A Final Reflection on the Path

"Every day, I chant 'Namo Amituofo' with everyone else and listen to Practitioner Su give lectures. Only then did I realise that even though I had been helping the human world as a spirit, everything I did was still within the six realms of rebirth. I had not escaped. One day, my lifespan would have come to an end. But today, having reached Namo Amituofo, we no longer need to reincarnate. As long as we are willing to chant this 'Namo Amituofo,' we can be reborn in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. That is the Buddha-land of Namo Amituofo, where we can practice until we become Buddhas and then return to the human world to help all beings. Thinking of this, my heart is even more at ease and filled with Dharma-joy. I chant every day, looking forward to the day I can go to the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss.

Here, I can also see how Practitioner Su performs Chao Du for the Chinese mainland. I know that in order to save the vast, dark crowds of demons, Practitioner Su's own body is attacked severely, and he suffers greatly at the hands of the demon crowds. Yet, we can still see Practitioner Su giving lectures, helping the fourfold assembly of disciples to wake up. He is truly a Buddha—a Buddha in the human world. I envy the fourfold assembly at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre; they have such great blessings, yet they are so heavily controlled that they do not even realise how fortunate they are. It is truly a pity. I really hope they believe everything I have said here. They must cherish the body they have to practice, otherwise, when the Buddha has come, to not be of one heart with the Buddha is a terrible waste.

Well, the 'God of Peace,' Shi Dongnu, will stop here. I sincerely thank Namo Amituofo and Practitioner Su for their great compassion. I am grateful for everything! I hope that a second Practitioner Su will appear at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre soon; then the human world will truly have hope!

Namo Amituofo.

Shi Dongnu"