The Jailer's Journey Home

This is a record of an interview with Tang Yaodong, who sought Chao Du 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 long journey through the cycle of rebirth. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa, on February 27, 2021.

Tang Yaodong speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I have wandered through the cycle of rebirth time and time again, lost for so many lifetimes that I have long since lost count. But in this life, I have finally returned home. On behalf of our group of sixty jailers, I kneel and bow my head before Namo Amituofo, offering my deepest gratitude for the Buddha's boundless compassion. I also bow to Practitioner Su, thanking him for guiding us sixty jailers to the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. This is the pure land we have dreamed of for aeons. None of us ever imagined we could possess such immense blessings to arrive here. We are all smiling from ear to ear, filled with a gratitude that words cannot fully express. It is truly inconceivable.

I am Tang Yaodong. My father was named Tang Dongcheng, and the final character of my name, 'Dong', was taken directly from his. My birth was meant to bring glory to my father, so he was overjoyed to name me Yaodong. My entire family loved the name; it rolled off the tongue so easily, and so it was decided.

A Childhood Defined by Gambling

My father had a compulsive gambling nature. Even before I was born, he could not resist placing a bet with his friends. When my mother was only three weeks pregnant with me, my father made a wager with his companions: 'This is my first child, and I refuse to let the doctor tell me if it is a boy or a girl. Let us place our bets!' My father’s brothers had all fathered daughters, and my grandparents were desperate for a grandson, yet their prayers had gone unanswered. Seeing the situation in our family, my father’s friends naturally assumed I would be a girl. Only my father believed with absolute certainty that I would be a boy.

After nine long months, the time for my birth finally arrived. The entire family waited outside the room, and my father’s friends were there too, still convinced I would be a girl. When the midwife brought me out in her arms, my father rushed forward and pulled back the cloth. Upon seeing that I was a boy, he shouted in pure excitement, 'It’s a boy! It’s a boy! I won! I won!' His friends followed him into the room to confirm the truth, and one by one, they pulled money from their pockets to give to my father. They said, 'Consider this money a blessing for the child. May he grow up safe and sound.' My father scratched his head and laughed, 'Forgive me, I am too greedy! This child has truly given me face. I must give him a fine name—let us call him Yaodong! Tang Yaodong, to bring glory to Tang Dongcheng!' That is how I received my name.

My father’s gambling addiction made life incredibly difficult for my mother. We were not a wealthy family, and she was constantly forced to pay off his debts. When her own savings were not enough, she had to swallow her pride and borrow money from my grandparents, which made her feel like an unfilial daughter-in-law. My grandparents understood her plight, and since they could not change my father’s ways, they would secretly give her money so she would not have to worry.

An Unusual Child

As I grew older, I became more observant. My mother often wore a forced smile in front of me, thinking I could not see the pain in her heart, but I saw every bit of it. I often found her crying alone in her room. Every time I saw her looking so miserable, my heart would ache, and I desperately wanted to help her, yet I was powerless to do anything.

I rarely saw my father. Sometimes, in the dead of night, I would hear his voice—he always sounded drunk, speaking loudly and rambling incoherently. A few times, he would burst into my room to wake me, wanting to talk or see if I had grown taller. I would sit before him, bleary-eyed, while my mother tried to pull him away, saying, 'The child needs to sleep, don't disturb him!' But no matter how she tried, he insisted on talking to me. I would tell her, 'Mother, it is alright, I want to talk to Father too.' He would continue his drunken, nonsensical chatter. I could not understand a word he said, but I would sit there until he finished before finally seeing him off. I once asked my mother, 'Where does Father live? Where does he sleep? What does he do every day?' She could not answer a single one of my questions because she did not know either. Seeing the sorrow on her face, I stopped asking.

My grandparents did not live with us, but they visited every day. Out of their twenty-six grandchildren, I was the only boy, so they cherished me like a precious treasure. Once I was three and able to eat more, they brought me delicious food every day. One day, I overheard my mother say that they planned to slaughter a chicken every day to help me grow strong. When I heard this, I ran to them and begged them not to do it. I told them, 'Grandfather, Grandmother, I can grow up just fine without eating chicken. Please, do not kill for my sake!' They were stunned to hear me use the word 'killing' at such a young age. They asked, 'Yaodong, you have only just learned to speak, how do you know the word 'killing'? Who taught you?' I replied, 'No one taught me, I just know.' They were shocked, and even my mother, who was standing nearby, found it truly inconceivable.

Leaving Home for the City

One day, I heard my grandfather tell my mother, 'Yaodong is a very bright child; he should be properly cultivated. It would be better if I took him to the city to study, rather than letting him stay in this rural place.' Before my mother could answer, I ran to my grandfather and said, 'I want to stay with Mother. I do not want to go to the city to study.' My mother quickly grabbed my hand and said, 'Yaodong, you must not be rude to your grandfather. He is doing this for your own good. You should be grateful to him; thank him at once.' I said, 'But I want to...' My mother insisted, 'Thank your grandfather!' I obeyed her and thanked him.

After my grandfather left, I asked my mother, 'Why won't you let me stay with you? Why do you want him to take me away?' She told me, 'If you study hard and become a useful person in society, that is the greatest filial piety you can show me. If you stay here, I am illiterate and know nothing; I cannot teach you anything, and I would only ruin your life. Follow your grandfather; he is educated and knows how to guide you.' I asked, 'Then why don't you come to the city with me? Then we wouldn't have to be apart.' She replied, 'If I leave, your father won't be able to find anyone when he returns. I must stay here to be with him.' Even though my heart was filled with reluctance, I had to listen to her so that she would not worry.

Three days later, my grandfather came to take me to the city. I said goodbye to my mother with a heavy heart. I could see she was just as heartbroken, holding back her tears as she said farewell. I told her, 'I will come back to see you often!' She forced a smile and said, 'Good, Mother will be waiting for you at home. Go now, and be careful on the road!' Along the way, I could not stop the tears from falling, grieving that she would be left alone. My grandfather comforted me, 'As long as you achieve spiritual success, everything will be worth it.' And he was right—as long as I achieved success, it would all be worth it. That thought became the driving force for my journey into the city. It was my first time in the city, and the sheer volume of people was overwhelming. Walking through the streets, I felt physically ill. My grandfather asked, 'Yaodong, what is wrong? Why are you so pale?' I replied, 'I feel sick. The people here eat too much meat. Every person who passes by makes me feel uncomfortable.' My grandfather did not understand what I meant; he could not grasp how other people eating meat could affect me or make me want to vomit. I did not fully understand it either, but I could vaguely sense the presence of these animal spirits. I told them, 'I do not have the ability to save you. Whether you are a chicken, a duck, a fish, a pig, a sheep, or a cow, since you have become animals, you are destined to be eaten, unless people stop eating meat—like me. But I do not know how to tell people to stop eating meat. This is just how the world is; please, do not hold a grudge.' After I said this, my body felt a little better; otherwise, they were surrounding me so tightly that I could barely breathe. When we arrived at my grandparents' home, it was a grand, elegant, and comfortable house. My grandmother was overjoyed to see me and immediately took me to see my room and study. She told me, 'There is no rush to start your studies. Stay for a while, adapt to city life, and then your grandfather will arrange your schooling.' I nodded to show I understood."