The Redemption of a Prison Guard

This is a record of an interview with Li Zhenkai, who sought spiritual deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. Having served as a prison guard in the Sixth Hell, he now resides in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. This account, recorded on May 15, 2021, by the chief writer, Shi Hailiang, details his life, his karmic journey, and his eventual liberation.

Li Zhenkai speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. Among the sixty prison guards, I am the representative, Li Zhenkai. First and foremost, I must express my deepest gratitude—gratitude for the compassion of the Buddha, the compassion of Practitioner Su, and the compassion of all the monastics and the fourfold assembly at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. You helped us by chanting Namo Amituofo together during the Dharma assembly. Practitioner Su led us, the sixty prison guards, and guided us to the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. The Buddha-light was so immense and powerful! We sixty prison guards all knelt and kowtowed in thanks. Seeing the Buddha’s compassionate light shining upon us, it felt as if He were telling us, 'My children, you have finally returned home.' We all wept with joy, for we had finally returned to the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss.

Every prison guard has a story of their own. I, Li Zhenkai, shall represent everyone and share my story—how I became a prison guard, and why I was so fortunate, possessing such great blessings, to be able to participate in this magnificent Thrice Yearning Ceremonies and serve as the representative for the guards being delivered to the Western Land."

A Legacy of Goodness and the Shadow of Tragedy

"Li Zhenkai is my given name. The character 'Li' is quite unique. According to my father, for eight generations, our Li family were people who performed good deeds. Because the surname 'Li' is rare, it easily attracts attention. In particular, our family possessed vast grasslands in the Mongolian region. Naturally, we raised many livestock—horses and sheep. In the vast Mongolian grasslands, everyone lived a nomadic life, following the water and the grass. Wherever the grass grew lush, that is where we would go. My father told me that in the past, our ancestors were not like this; they did not have to endure such hardship. They lived in the city, leading very leisurely lives, and simply by doing business, they lived prosperous lives. At that time, my grandfather made a living by selling furs. Naturally, many customers came from afar to purchase them. Whether it was sheepskin, wool, or horsehide, they were all highly sought after. In the bitter cold of winter, these leathers provided excellent protection against the cold. If they were sewn into coats, they were windproof and warm. Because my grandfather was a kind and honest man, his business grew larger and larger, and many nomadic families in the region entrusted their goods to him for sale in large quantities.

One day, a merchant named Tang came from the Central Plains. One could tell from his attire that he was a wealthy businessman, accompanied by two burly attendants who looked like fierce bodyguards. Upon arriving at the shop, he immediately revealed a large stack of banknotes and placed an order with my grandfather: one hundred sheepskins and one hundred horsehides. My grandfather checked the stock and found it insufficient, so he told the merchant Tang to take all the goods currently in the shop and return in three months to collect the remainder. The merchant Tang was very generous; he paid for all the goods in full, took them away, and placed an even larger order for three months later: two hundred sheepskins and two hundred horsehides. My honest grandfather sincerely accepted the money and promised to complete the next transaction."

The Price of Honesty and a Father's Grief

"For three months, my grandfather and father were travelling everywhere to collect these sheepskins and horsehides. It was exhausting work, day after day. They went door-to-door to every family that raised livestock. It took three and a half months to finally complete the order. The wealthy merchant Tang sent someone to ask my grandfather and father to transport the goods to the Central Plains for delivery. It was to be a transaction of 'money for goods.' My father and grandfather hired three helpers to accompany them. After bundling the goods, they drove the horse-drawn carriages toward the Central Plains. However, halfway there, they were ambushed by bandits. My grandfather died in that robbery. He was accidentally pushed, his head struck the carriage, and he tragically bled to death. My father, overcome with grief, watched as all the goods were stolen. With his three friends, he carried my grandfather's body back home.

After handling my grandfather's funeral, my father thought there was something suspicious about the whole affair. They had encountered bandits during the transport, and later, the merchant Tang never came to offer condolences. After the funeral, my father set aside his sorrow to face the debts at hand, for the money used to purchase those furs had been borrowed. My father had no choice but to sell all the family's livestock and transfer the shop to others. At that time, my mother had not yet given birth to any children. By the time my father finished settling all the family affairs—the sheep, the horses, and the shop—only ten sheep and six horses remained. My father decided to take my mother and wander, making a living by herding sheep. A year later, my mother became pregnant. In our impoverished state, she gave birth to me. There were no midwives; my father helped deliver me. My cry upon birth was very loud and clear, and my father felt very comforted—at last, the Li family had an heir.

My father and mother were married for three years before I was born. When I was born, I was sturdy and strong. It was clear that I would grow up to be a big man, much like my father. Even as a small child, one could see my appearance and discern my blessings. In our current circumstances, my parents could only herd sheep every day. My father had to carry me on his back while driving the sheep to graze, while my mother stayed home to feed the newborn lambs and make dairy products from the sheep's milk to sell at the market, exchanging them for daily necessities and food. Strangely enough, ever since I was born, wherever we went, the water and grass were always lush, and the sheep ate particularly well. Watching the sheep grow day by day, I was the happiest. When my father was tired, he would put me down and let me crawl on the grass."

A Child's Discovery and the Hidden Treasure

"Once, I was surrounded by a few sheep. My father ran over to see what was happening, only to find that the mother sheep was looking at me, treating me as her own lamb, and wanting to feed me sheep's milk. I, however, ignored her. Later, I learned that to prevent the lambs from getting lost, the mother sheep would entrust them to the family's nanny to be cared for in the sheepfold. The mother sheep, missing her lambs, had mistaken me for one of her own and kept approaching me. A year passed, and I grew fast and strong.

By the time I was three, I followed my father to herd sheep, driving them to the freshest pastures. I would lie on the grass, watching the blue sky and white clouds under the sun. Sometimes, Dad would sit with me to admire the changing shapes of the clouds. I would tell him, 'Dad! Our home is in the sky, right above the white clouds! Dad! Our little lamb ran into the sky!' Every seven days, we had to move to a different grazing area. My father taught me to sing herding songs. Just as we were singing happily, we saw a group of people riding horses—about eleven or twelve young men—riding very fast, passing through the road in our pasture. My father immediately called my name: 'Zhenkai! Come here quickly, it's dangerous!' I ran to my father's side. That day, Dad carried me on his back and drove the sheep home early.

The sheep at home gave birth to lambs, and the flock grew year by year. By the time I was seven, I could herd the sheep alone. As long as Dad and I drove the sheep to the pasture together, I could watch them for the whole morning. I would look at the sky and imagine my future. This went on for a while. One time, I drove the sheep to another pasture and saw that group of fast-riding men again. I heard they were bandits. They had actually stopped their horses on the hillside behind the pasture. Because I was small, I never dared to go too far, but when I saw them riding their fast horses into the back of a small hut on the hillside and then leaving, I was curious and decided to go behind the hillside to see what was going on.

After walking a long distance, I discovered that what looked like a grassy hillside to the naked eye actually had very distinct patterns between the grasses, because the grass grew to different lengths—something only a shepherd would notice. I decided to investigate. At seven years old, I was just a child, but I had a very adventurous heart. I don't know what kind of power urged me to keep moving forward. I walked to the front of the hillside hut and accidentally stepped on a stone. The doors on both sides of the hut opened slightly. I understood—this was the bandits' treasure vault. As I walked in cautiously, I grew nervous, wondering if there were monsters or wolves inside. Since I was little, my mother told me to guard the sheep well, as the sheep's greatest enemy was the wolf, but I had never seen a wolf in my life. I tiptoed and pushed the door open gently. The scene before my eyes dazzled me. There were so many things shining with golden light—pieces of glowing objects. I saw another area filled with sheepskins, horsehides, and yak hides. I walked over and saw bags of gold coins on the floor. I really wanted to reach out and grab a handful, but my mother had told me that one must not take things that do not belong to our family. Fearing the bandits might return, I followed the path back to the stone and locked it again. I decided that after I got home, I would tell my parents what I had discovered. I drove the sheep home and, during dinner, told my parents that I had gone to a mysterious place that seemed to be a bandit's cave. Dad said, 'Zhenkai, tomorrow Dad will accompany you to investigate. Do not go alone next time, lest you get into danger at such a young age.'"

The Truth Revealed and the Path of Dharma

"The next day, Dad and I drove the sheep to the pasture. Around noon, the group of men hurried into the hillside hut and left shortly after. I took Dad to the treasure site. I stepped on the stone, and the door opened. The first thing Dad saw were the sheepskins and horsehides that had been stolen from him and my grandfather, all piled inside. He also saw many gold coins, gold bars, pearls, and agates. Dad said the things hidden in this hut were worth a fortune, but he warned me again: 'You must never take them! These are not our things; you must never take them!' We decided to report it to the authorities. When Dad and I returned home, he said that the most valuable thing in life is to be an honest person. We must never be like these bandits, robbing others of their belongings to make them our own. These were things others had earned through hard work, and these bandits would eventually be brought to justice. We reported it to the government, and they handled the case. Out of the twelve men, eleven were captured. Dad went to hear the verdict and learned that the true leader of these bandits was actually a man from the Central Plains who had defrauded many locals of their property, preparing to send it back to the Central Plains to sell for exorbitant profits.

Dad decided to take my mother and me to live in the Central Plains. He sold all our sheep and horses, and with our final savings, we moved to the Central Plains. We opened a shop selling winter sheepskin clothing, just like my grandfather's, and sold some Mongolian specialties. We lived there for three years, and during that time, Dad met many people from all walks of life. The most memorable was a monastic who came to the shop to solicit alms. My parents were overjoyed and offered the best food and money as offerings. My parents sincerely invited the monastic to teach me the meaning of the Buddha's teachings. This monastic became a frequent visitor to our home. He always told me that because I was young and untainted, it would be easier for me to learn the Dharma and open my Wisdom. Every time he came to the shop, he brought scriptures for my parents and was especially attentive to me, telling me stories from the Buddhist scriptures. For example, the story of the hundred-headed fish: a fisherman caught a fish with human heads all over its body. The fish said to the fisherman, 'You humans are so fond of eating fish; now you are on my head. I have over a hundred heads, so you know the horror of eating fish.' The monastic told me that I must not kill, as killing brings karmic retribution. All sheep, cattle, and horses are spirits in transformation. Every time he finished a story, he would tell me not to engage in killing or the business of selling meat. I learned to write calligraphy, recite the Sutras, and tell Buddhist stories. I lived a very grounded life every day.

Although Dad never found the merchant Tang, I studied Chinese classics in the Central Plains. As Dad's business grew, our shop expanded. One day at noon, a man who looked like a wealthy merchant arrived, full of confidence, but if one looked closely, one could see a hint of evil in his eyes. Dad happened to be out, so my mother hosted the guest and asked what he needed. The guest introduced himself as Tang. He said he had the same goods as our shop and could sell them to us at a cheap price, asking if we were interested. My mother said this would have to wait until the owner returned, so she made an appointment for him to come back the next day at noon.

That night, when Dad returned, my mother told him about the morning's events: 'A man named Tang came today, dressed luxuriously, wanting to sell us some Mongolian specialties and leather—sheepskins and horsehides.' She asked if Dad was interested. Upon hearing this, Dad immediately said, 'I have searched high and low, and now it has come to me without any effort. So he came to us himself!' The next day at noon, the man named Tang arrived as agreed. He had forgotten what my father looked like, but my father remembered him very clearly. This man named Tang was the culprit who had caused my grandfather's bankruptcy and accidental death. Thinking that all the bandits had been caught, yet he remained free, Dad invited him into the inner room. Seeing the high-quality goods in the shop—top-grade sheepskins, horsehides, and sable furs—all were excellent. It wasn't just Mongolian products; whatever the man named Tang could name, we had. The man named Tang said, 'Originally, I wanted to sell my goods to you cheaply, but seeing that you have so many good items, I have decided to buy your goods instead of selling mine to you.' Dad smiled at him, 'You are truly a wealthy man; you can tell at a glance that these are high-quality goods. It is an honour to do business with you, but for such expensive goods, one must pay a deposit, right? With your status, sir, that should be no problem.' The merchant Tang immediately took out a large stack of banknotes and made the deal, deciding to pay the remaining balance in a week and have the goods delivered to an address he provided.

This time, Dad went to get reinforcements. The government officials who had handled the previous case changed into plain clothes and acted as Dad's porters. When the goods were delivered, several burly men suddenly appeared, holding weapons. The man named Tang said to Dad, 'Boss Li! Put the goods down quickly. Put the goods down and keep your life. If you don't, you will lose your life.' The true face of the man named Tang was finally revealed. I was a ten-year-old child, trembling with fear. At that moment, the items being transported were opened, and it turned out they were just firewood. The officials also drew their weapons. After the burly men were subdued, seeing the man named Tang preparing to escape, Dad blocked his path and grabbed him by the collar. Unexpectedly, the man named Tang also had martial arts skills. Seeing me, Dad was afraid I would get hurt and came to protect me. At that moment, I was accidentally stabbed by the man named Tang's weapon. Conversely, the man named Tang was also subdued and tied up by the officials, ending this robbery attempt.

In this incident, I was injured and bled. After being taken home by Dad, I underwent a profound change. I thought to myself, 'Why is a man who looks so refined like the merchant Tang a bad person? And what good deeds can I, a child, do? If I don't do good deeds, what will I do when I grow up?' Dad asked the monastic who came to the shop why the merchant Tang had caused my grandfather's bankruptcy and accidental death, and what kind of Causal Conditions this was. The monastic said that everything is karmic retribution. If I wanted to understand, I could go and visit the man named Tang.

That day, Dad took me to see him, wanting me to know that doing evil will surely bring retribution. Upon inquiry, we learned that the father of the man named Tang had once been a major landowner in the Central Plains, and a man named Li had occupied their property, causing their family to fall into ruin. We found out that he had developed his business in Mongolia, and the man named Tang had chosen to raise a group of bandits to take revenge on him. Dad understood, and I listened, half-understanding. Dad told me again: 'One must truly be like what the monastic said: do not fail to do a good deed just because it is small, and do not do an evil deed just because it is small. Everything is karmic retribution.'"

A Life of Service and the Call to the Sixth Hell

"Ever since I was old enough to understand, and until Dad found the truth, I truly understood the magnificence of the Buddha's teachings—that everything is about cause and effect. So, I discussed with Dad and decided to return to our hometown in Mongolia. I reported everything I had learned in the Central Plains—the texts and the principles of how to treat others—to the Mongolian nobility, asking them to strengthen the promotion of Buddhist education and to encourage their people not to engage in killing as a profession. The people in the Mongolian region loved eating mutton the most, often eating a whole sheep at a time. The killing was too heavy, easily attracting negative karma and evil spirits. The Mongolian nobility, seeing my sincerity and my ambition at such a young age, kept me by their side. In Mongolia, I silently promoted Buddhist education, not killing, not eating meat, and learning to have a kind and grateful heart.

I never married in this life, wholeheartedly assisting the people in the Mongolian region. When I encountered the Buddha's teachings, I introduced them to the people. I used my own savings to build a temple in the city, and the monastic who had taught me at the time became the abbot, specializing in taking in orphans and letting them come into contact with the Buddha's teachings from a young age. From the age of forty to sixty, I opened a shop next to the temple selling the four treasures of the study, allowing those who wished to learn Buddhism to read the Sutras, copy the Sutras, and prostrate to the Buddha. On holidays, I volunteered at the temple. Whenever I heard of orphans who were destitute and had no one to rely on, I would take them in and send them to the temple to be well-educated, letting them learn the Buddha's teachings and become people who spread the Dharma.

Finally, at the age of sixty, I saw someone calling my name in the night: 'Li Zhenkai! Li Zhenkai! Wake up! Come with us; the King of Hell has something for you.' When I followed the voice outside, a sedan chair was waiting for me. I stepped into the sedan chair and arrived at the Sixth Hell to pay my respects to the King of Hell. The King of Hell said, 'Li Zhenkai, we shall bestow upon you the position of a prison guard. Please guide the beings in the Sixth Hell who are here to receive punishment.' I respectfully asked the King of Hell, 'What should I do if I don't know how?' The King of Hell said, 'You only need to ask your colleagues and the judges.' Just like that, I became a prison guard in the Sixth Hell. Every day, I earnestly exhorted these prisoners: 'Do not come back again; go and be reborn properly. Seize the opportunity for rebirth.' Because my advice was given with heartfelt blessings, they felt my sincerity in return.

I served as a prison guard for decades. In recent years, I often heard the sound of chanting Namo Amituofo. One day, the King of Hell said, 'Li Zhenkai, today you have been selected to be the representative of the prison guards, leading sixty prison guards from the first to the tenth hells to the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. Under the leadership of Practitioner Su and the Thrice Yearning Ceremonies presided over by Namo Amituofo, you will be able to chant the Buddha's name and be led to the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. This is a once-in-a-thousand-years opportunity.' I am grateful for the compassion of the King of Hell, because I often heard the sound of Practitioner Su chanting the Buddha's name. Now, because the Causal Conditions are magnificent, I, Li Zhenkai, along with the other fifty-nine prison guards, went to the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre. We saw that the entire Dharma assembly was packed, with immeasurable and boundless sentient beings. The Buddha's light shone upon us, and the Dharma Body of Practitioner Su led us sixty prison guards to the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. I am grateful to the compassionate Buddha, grateful to Practitioner Su, and grateful to the fourfold assembly of the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre. Li Zhenkai is grateful and kowtows to everyone.

Namo Amituofo.

Li Zhenkai"