The Professor's Final Lesson: Beyond the Mask of Intellect

Professor Yu Kwang-chung, a renowned literary figure and educator, sought deliverance after his passing. This interview was recorded on March 19, 2021, at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia, where his spirit was led to the Western Land of Dharma Nature to listen to the Dharma and eventually attained rebirth in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss.

Professor Yu Kwang-chung speaks:

A Scholar's Reflection

"Namo Amituofo. I am Yu Kwang-chung. Those who hear my name should be somewhat familiar with me, including my literary works and the books I have translated. I was a writer in the field of prose and a representative figure often praised among the ranks of professors. I always maintained a carefully curated image—that of a professor with profound literary cultivation. Whenever people saw me, I was always dressed in a crisp suit or at least a shirt, maintaining an unshakeable spirit. I was a man of letters; every gesture naturally exuded a scholarly aura.

In our era, the opportunity to study abroad and possess such rich knowledge was a rare and prestigious achievement. Students who attended my lectures know that I was gentle, refined, and elegant. That elegance radiated from within, born of deep internal cultivation. Whether it was Chinese literature or foreign literature, I delved into both extensively, and my exterior reflected this literary temperament. In truth, I harboured a deep sense of arrogance within. Because I was not tall and was quite thin, the quintessential image of a literary professor was projected through me."

The Weight of a Lifetime

"The only woman I loved in my life was my cousin, Fan Wocun. After we fell in love at first sight, we built a family together, accompanying each other, especially in our spiritual connection. My wife sacrificed so much for the Yu family; whenever I wrote a few words of concern by hand, it revealed the deep bond between our hearts.

Throughout my life, I believed that whether in my conduct, as a teacher, or in instructing students, I gave my all. I held a ruler in my heart to measure my life's actions. I considered myself a very good person with high self-standards. I had no bad habits; I only enjoyed taking up my pen to write about the joys and experiences of life, using words to describe and express the resonance between my inner world and reality. This is why most writers enjoy writing. Sometimes, I would write works that hinted at or even criticised the social conditions of the time—this is how writers like to manifest their thoughts through their pens. Yet, it is laughable that no matter how brilliant my life was, I still had to face death in the end."

The Illusion of Status

"Regarding my life's work, I lived to be eighty-nine—no, I should say I left this world at ninety. That is enough! I will not speak any more grand, empty words. For instance, I could speak Minnan, but I would not say a word of it; when people called me a Minnan person, I insisted I was a Jiangnan person. When I was a professor, some female students cast secret glances of admiration at me, and I acted as if I noticed nothing. But in truth, my soul felt a desire to betray, yet throughout my journey, I dared not act upon it. There is no need now to use flowery academic language, because such language cannot save those who, like me, wear the title of 'professor'.

Let us not talk about income; just the word 'professor' alone commands respect. How lofty the status of a university professor is! In terms of social standing, I, Yu Kwang-chung, had excellent relations with the educational sector and the Kuomintang government of that time. My status was very high. I taught at several universities, and after retirement, I gave lectures at many schools. At that time, I was spreading my learned ideologies and sharing the life journey I had experienced, including how I became a successful literary professor. No matter how many private thoughts or unknown secrets I held, as long as I stood on the podium, I had to be the professor everyone praised. Yu Kwang-chung was like someone bathed in light, shining brilliantly. Those sitting in the audience were all admiring me, hoping to gain inspiration from my lectures, looking for a path they could follow to become famous professors themselves."

The Transformation of the Spirit

"Because of my profession, I did not lack material wealth in reality. Returning home, I enjoyed flipping through books, and my spiritual nourishment was very rich. Therefore, in terms of faith, I was empty. Although I had been to churches and temples with friends, I did not cling to them, nor was I superstitious. To put it bluntly, I did not believe in any of it.

Professors must understand: when you are a famous professor, how many people admire you! Regardless of gender or age, when they know you and treat you as an idol, you must be even more careful, because every word and action makes you a 'public figure' in the eyes of the media. I was a 'professor', and being labelled a public figure felt very vulgar. As long as I, Yu Kwang-chung, signed my name on the books sold in bookstores, they would sell well. As long as I wrote a few inspirational words in my prose collections, those who received them would be overjoyed.

In truth, this is nothing remarkable. Everyone must eventually realise that these things cannot be taken with them; everyone must face death. Speaking of this, I feel a deep sense of sorrow. I am not afraid of being laughed at: I, Yu Kwang-chung, passed away due to a stroke. When I was tormented by illness and my spirit was about to leave my body, that feeling of longing for freedom returned. I soared into the sky, unexpectedly becoming a 'large water mosquito', bathed in light, yet transformed into being bathed in rain! I had long, thin legs and a pair of wings. Whenever heavy rain came, I was prone to death, so I desperately flew toward the light. I finally understood this longing for freedom—especially the freedom of literary creation—which I often enjoyed in my own writing, unknown to others. It is called 'entering a space'."

Repentance and Deliverance

"Around the age of fifty-one, I entered this space. My body gradually grew thin, and when things did not go my way, I often sulked. I once had grand ambitions to translate local literature into English, so that foreigners could understand how interesting and full of human warmth our local customs were! Foreign literature has its beauty, and I often wrote prose while contemplating these thoughts. Sometimes, when I finished a sentence or an essay that felt close to my true nature—the exact artistic conception I wanted to express—there would be a shout in my heart: 'Aha—that is it!' This powerful energy of self-approval made me intoxicated by literature. I believe that professors of different academic disciplines, whether in the sciences or the humanities, all have their unique areas that allow them to feel self-satisfied, which is why they persist on this path of being a professor until retirement, giving their all.

When I was a human, I loved the feeling of rain; the misty drizzle brought me much inspiration for literary creation and poetic imagery. But now, as a large water mosquito, what I feared most was the heavy rain that would soak my wings. I had to fly toward the light, rushing to find a place where I would not be drenched. I wish to express my gratitude to my student, Zhuo Shuling. I seem to have some impression of this little girl; she listened to lectures earnestly and took notes diligently. When I spoke of sentences that touched her, she would smile shyly. I have taught so many students, but I am grateful that she still remembers me, this professor. When my spirit was reincarnated as a large water mosquito, it was she who helped me with Chao Du, inviting people to rescue my spirit and bring it to the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. Before the Dharma assembly began, when Practitioner Su called out, 'Yu Kwang-chung, where is Yu Kwang-chung?', my spirit arrived at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre, and I was invited to the Western Land of Dharma Nature to listen to the Dharma. At that time, my spirit was still very arrogant.

What kind of place was this? Although it was so bright, I could not accept the fact at the time. I only saw this person called Practitioner Su sitting on the stage giving a Dharma talk, with many people below listening. For several days, I did not want to listen to his talk because I felt I was a professor. Did he not know I was a professor? The habit of arrogance in my heart arose again. I wanted to leave that place, but I could not. Once, during the Dharma assembly, I saw a group of people, a crowd full of people, all walking toward the light. That light was very bright and beautiful, so I began to calm my heart. I repented for my arrogance. I changed. I paid attention to the Dharma that Practitioner Su was speaking. Its content was all about counselling people to do Good, pure and kind, saving the world according to the Truth of the universe. Is this not the same as the ideal vision we hold in the educational sector? The difference is its vastness. It is not limited to a certain university department or a certain society or country, but the entire universe. It is so vast; this is the Buddha's vow, and it is what I admire.

After listening to Practitioner Su's Dharma talk, I was ashamed to the extreme. Practitioner Su said, 'Those wealthy people also use their bodies to earn money, but when their last breath stops, it is all equal to zero.' I suddenly realised that no matter how great the fame, like me now, no one knows who I am; everything is empty. Finally, when I sincerely repented before the Buddha, shedding tears, crying again and again, 'Buddha! I was wrong! I deeply repent for my life's achievements and my arrogance! I deeply repent for guarding the professor's face! I deeply repent for the perfect Yu Kwang-chung!' When I was crying, I heard Practitioner Su say, 'Yu Kwang-chung! I am going to lead you!' Practitioner Su called my name. I was lined up in front of many sentient beings. Practitioner Su took my hand, and I followed everyone in chanting Namo Amituofo. Because of my sincere repentance just now, Practitioner Su took my hand before the Buddha, and I was received by the Buddha. I have come to the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss, and I am moved beyond words. I want to thank Practitioner Su, thank my student Zhuo Shuling, and thank these monastics and lay practitioners who helped me chant the Buddha's name. Thank you all for your help. Yu Kwang-chung is now in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. It is truly so beautiful and bright here! This time, I am truly bathed in the Buddha-light."

A Final Message to Educators

"I sincerely hope to bring a few words to all the professors in the educational sector: Life must eventually face death. When we leave this world alone, where does our eternal spirit go? The only path is to chant Namo Amituofo and have faith in the Buddha. Listen to Practitioner Su's Dharma talks. One does not truly die; understanding the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss is the only way to avoid the suffering of reincarnation. Do not be obsessed with the word 'professor' anymore! Do not live your whole life under the mask of a professor! What I have said today is a bit too direct, but I ask all respected professors to reflect carefully!"

Yu Kwang-chung

Interview message recorded by the chief writer, Disciple Shi Hailiang.