The Prison Guard's Journey to Perfection

This is a record of an interview with Qiu Bingnan, 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 path to the Buddha. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fajing, on May 8, 2021.

Qiu Bingnan speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. The moment I arrived in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss, I was immediately adorned in the robes of a monastic. I knelt before Namo Amituofo, accompanied by fifty-nine other prison guards, to offer our deepest gratitude to the Buddha and to Practitioner Su. This set of robes is something I had longed for throughout my entire life, yet I never had the opportunity to wear them. Now, having reached the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss, Namo Amituofo has fulfilled my heart's deepest wish. To be able to kneel before the Buddha in the identity of a monastic and express my thanks—my heart is overflowing with gratitude beyond words."

Born in the Midst of a Storm

"I remember the day I came into this world so vividly. It was a time of relentless, torrential rain. The ground was saturated, and the floodwaters were rising so rapidly that every household was trapped, terrified to step outside. Amidst the deafening roar of the downpour, a different sound pierced through—the cry of a newborn infant. That was me, Qiu Bingnan, entering this world.

It was a miracle that my grandmother was there. In her youth, she had served as a midwife. Had it not been for her presence, there would have been no way to seek help in such a storm. My mother told me later that she did not feel the intense agony one might expect during childbirth; it was as if the process was guided by a higher power. It was entirely due to my grandmother's skill that I was born safely and that my mother’s life was preserved. You see, the doctor had warned my mother early in her pregnancy that her body was far too frail to carry a child. He had cautioned her that if she proceeded, her life would be in grave danger. Yet, my mother was resolute. She told me, 'Though I do not know what causal conditions brought us together from our past lives, since you have chosen to be my child, I will protect you and bring you safely into this world.' Under her protection, I arrived safely in this world, even in the heart of that great storm."

The Miracle of the Flood

"Only a few hours after my birth, the village was completely overwhelmed by the rising floodwaters. Panic erupted. Families were scrambling to escape their homes, but the rain showed no sign of stopping. The entire village was in a state of utter chaos. Soon, word spread that children had been swept away by the currents, and elderly villagers, their strength failing them, had collapsed and been carried off by the water. My mother held me tightly to her chest and urged my father, 'Go! Go and save the others! Do not worry about us; I will take care of our child and Grandmother.' My father was torn, his heart heavy with concern for our safety, but he knew there were so many lives at stake. He had to let go of his own family to serve the village.

My mother had only just given birth; she had not yet recovered her strength, and now she faced this catastrophe. The water had already risen above our knees inside the house. She climbed onto the highest table in the room, pulling Grandmother up with her. The three of us sat there, huddled together, waiting for my father to return. An hour passed, and the rain finally began to ease. My mother looked out the window, whispering, 'I wonder how everyone is doing out there?' Grandmother replied, 'I pray that everyone is safe.'

When my father finally returned, he was drenched, his body trembling with exhaustion. His first words were of us: 'Are you all right?' My mother immediately asked about the villagers. My father’s face fell. 'Every household has suffered losses. Some have drowned right before their families' eyes. It is truly heartbreaking. I did my best to save as many as I could, but there were so many tragedies.' My mother comforted him, 'You did your best; do not blame yourself.' My father looked at us, stunned. 'We are the only family in the entire village that is completely safe. How did you manage?' My mother explained, 'We just sat on this table, not daring to move, even when our legs went numb.' My father asked, 'Did the wind and rain not enter the house?' My mother shook her head. 'No, it was remarkably calm inside. The water was high, but we were safe.' My father was astonished. 'Every other house in the village was battered by the wind and rain. To think that our home remained so peaceful—it is truly inconceivable!' My mother sighed, 'It must be the blessing of the Heavens, but why did the Heavens not protect everyone? It breaks my heart for those who lost so much.'"

A Mother's Devotion

"Because my mother had not been able to rest after my birth, her already fragile health deteriorated rapidly. She caught a chill, and from that point on, she was bedridden. She could rarely stand or sit for long. As far back as my memories go, I remember her lying in bed. From the time I was four years old and began to understand the world, I took it upon myself to care for her. When Grandmother brewed the herbal medicine, I would bring it to her. Every day, I would massage her back and wash her feet. If she was bored, I would tell her stories. To ensure I had new stories to share, I would seek out books everywhere. If I could not read them, I would ask others to read them to me, just so I could bring a moment of joy to my mother.

One day, I told her a story that made her eyes light up. She asked, 'Where did you hear this?' I was surprised by her reaction, as I had never seen her so animated. I told her, 'I heard it at a temple.' She said, 'In the story, the child followed his parents to become a monastic. The whole family practiced the Dharma together, each using their unique abilities to save beings. I wish we could do the same. If your father could save people, if I could save people, and if you could save people—that would be wonderful.' Looking at her, I felt such awe. She was so selfless, ignoring her own pain to think of how to help others. Though I was young, the example set by my parents began to shape my heart, planting the seeds of compassion for all suffering beings and the desire to save them, just as my mother did."

The Path to the Temple

"When I was thirteen, through a series of causal conditions, my mother met a bhiksuni. She told my father and me, 'If my illness can be healed in the temple, I vow to become a nun. Do you support my decision?' My father did not hesitate. 'This is a virtuous path; of course I support you.' I added, 'I believe Mother will recover, for her heart is so kind and she has always wanted to help others.' Seeing our support, my mother smiled so radiantly. She added, 'I hope you will both join me in the temple one day. My greatest wish is for our whole family to become monastics and save beings. I believe it is possible.' We smiled at each other, and though we could not join her immediately, we knew in our hearts that we would one day be part of the Buddha's gate.

A year passed while my mother was in the temple. We had no news of her, and I often wondered how she was faring. Just as I was thinking of her, Auntie Wuyue, a close friend of my mother, came to visit. She said, 'I went to the temple today to pay respects to the Buddha, and I saw your mother!' I was eager to know, 'Is she well?' Auntie Wuyue replied, 'I almost didn't recognise her. She has transformed completely. Her appearance is so dignified, and she was teaching the Dharma to those who came to seek it. I stood to the side and listened; the Dharma coming from her lips was truly soul-stirring!' I asked if she had spoken to her, and she said, 'Of course. After the crowd dispersed, I went to her. She shared her life in the temple—how she spends her days chanting the sutras and the name of the Buddha, focused entirely on helping others. Through her diligence and her powerful vow, her health has gradually recovered. It is the blessing of the Buddha; otherwise, even the greatest physician could not have cured her. Now, her illness is gone! I am so happy for her; she is doing very well.' Hearing this, my heart was finally at peace."

The Call of Duty

"Although my father and I longed to join her in the temple, the political situation made it impossible. Our nation was embroiled in constant warfare, fighting to seize land from our neighbours while simultaneously defending ourselves from invasion. The people lived in perpetual fear, terrified that the enemy would breach our gates at any moment. Eventually, our worst fears were realised. The enemy broke through, and they showed no mercy to the civilians. How could my father and I leave for the temple at such a time? Saving lives had to be our first priority!

To protect the villagers, my father and I searched for a safe place to hide. Food was scarce everywhere, and we were responsible for the survival of those we had gathered. We scoured the land for supplies, transporting whatever we could find back to our hiding place. We had to be incredibly cautious; if we carried too much, we would be spotted by the enemy. Every move had to be calculated. During one such mission, we were intercepted by enemy soldiers. My father ordered me to drop the supplies and flee, but I could not abandon him. He shouted, 'If you do not run, all the villagers will be destroyed! Only if you survive can you save them! Run!' I hid the supplies in the tall grass and fled in the opposite direction. My heart was heavy with fear for my father, but I knew I could not be selfish. I had to think of the villagers—this was the lesson my parents had taught me since I was a child, and I could not forget it."

I was terrified that the enemy soldiers might be tracking me, so I did not immediately return to the place where the villagers were hiding. Instead, I ducked into a building that looked like a ruin. I sat inside, hiding quietly, praying that the enemy would not discover me, as I still had to bring the food back to the villagers. This was a house that had been ravaged by fire—set ablaze by those very soldiers. Throughout the entire village, countless houses had been burned to the ground, leaving behind a trail of death and destruction. As I gazed around the interior of this structure, I suddenly caught sight of a large Buddha statue that had not been completely consumed by the flames. Observing the architecture of the building, I realised that this was a temple. A thought flashed through my mind, and my heart ached with a sudden, sharp pain. There was no mistake; this was the very temple where my mother had practised. If this was the place, then my mother... I immediately knelt and prayed to the Buddha, begging Him to guide my mother to a better place. Although my heart was shattered, I had no time to mourn; the lives of the entire village were waiting for me to save them.

The Weight of Responsibility

The sky began to darken, and the surroundings grew quiet. I poked my head out to look around, and seeing no signs of movement, I hurried toward the spot where I had hidden the food. I had to get it back to the villagers as quickly as possible. Among them were people of all ages, from the elderly to the very young. The youngest child was only four years old. There had been even younger infants, but it was impossible to bring them into hiding because their crying would have immediately alerted the enemy. If we were to keep anyone under three years old, they could not follow us into this hiding place. Although it broke my heart, it was the only way to ensure the safety of the group; otherwise, the moment a child cried, no matter how hidden we were, the enemy would find us.

As the sky grew darker, with only a sliver of light remaining, I finally found the patch of grass where I had stashed the supplies. I quickly tied the food to my body and prepared to return to our hiding spot. By now, it was almost pitch black, but relying on my familiarity with the path, I ran forward as fast as I could. Suddenly, I tripped over something and fell hard, landing directly onto a corpse. It was a body that had not been dead for long, and I recognised the person—it was my father!

A Final Farewell in the Dark

I wept as I dragged my father's body to the side of the road and covered it with a pile of dry grass. I spoke to him through my tears, saying, "Father, please forgive my lack of filial piety. I cannot bury you now; the enemy could appear at any moment, and I must rush this food back to the others. Father, please forgive me. You will always be the father I respect the most!" Even though my heart was filled with unbearable sorrow, I had to set aside my grief to protect the villagers.

I was almost back at our hiding place, but to my horror, the road was littered with one corpse after another. My heart sank, and I wondered, "What on earth has happened here?" I quickened my pace, only to be met with a sight that left me frozen in shock: every single villager had been slaughtered. Not one was left alive. I sat there on the ground, stunned. I never imagined that after such a desperate struggle, it would end like this. Just then, a blade was pressed against my throat. I did not react; I did not speak, nor did I struggle. The soldier holding the blade sneered, "You're quite clever, aren't you? You knew how to hide everyone here and then sneak out to bring them food! But you were the only smart one in this group. These people were fools! They thought this place was safe and started walking around. The moment we saw signs of movement, we rushed over, and ha! We found all these people hiding here! We killed them all, one by one! We knew there had to be a leader among you, because these useless people could never have found such a hidden spot on their own. So we waited—we waited for you to return. The moment you came back, we were going to kill you! And you actually walked right into our trap!" I told them, "Cut, slaughter, do whatever you want! You don't need to say another word to me!" Having lost my father, my mother, and all the villagers, I had no desire to live. I did not care how these enemy soldiers chose to dispose of me; I would not resist.

The End of a Life and the Beginning of a Vow

The blade slowly moved away from my throat, only to swing down with lightning speed. My head was severed. That was the final conclusion of my life.

It is a great regret that I did not fulfil my mother's wish for me to shave my head, become a monk, and practise to save sentient beings. However, that wish never faded from my heart. I will always remember it. Even if I could not achieve it in this life, I hope that in my next life, I can become a monk.

My spirit left my body in agony. Before me stood the officers who had come to take me away; judging by their appearance, they must have come from the underworld. I followed them, and soon I stood before King Yama, where I was assigned the role of a prison guard.

Seven years ago, when I was placed on the list to be guided by Practitioner Su to the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss, my heart was filled with immense gratitude. Although I served as a prison guard in the hells, I never forgot to listen to the Dharma. The sutras explained by Practitioner Su further strengthened my desire to become a monk. I prayed that after being reborn in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss, I could immediately become a monk, engage in diligent practice, fulfil my vow, and eventually return to the human world to save sentient beings.

Today, my wish has been realised. I have shaved my head, donned the kasaya, and knelt before the Buddha to chant, "Namo Amituofo."

I am grateful for the compassion of the Buddha.

I am grateful for the compassion of Practitioner Su.

Namo Amituofo.

Qiu Bingnan