An Interview with the Spirit of Zhuang Er
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Cells of Namo Amituofo
This interview was recorded on May 31, 2019, at the Hsiang Kuang Buddhist Centre. The spirit of Zhuang Er, who had become trapped within the form of black tea due to his deep attachment to his life's work, sought deliverance through the compassionate guidance of the Centre. He now resides within the Pure Land of the Buddha, having been liberated from his long cycle of rebirth.
Zhuang Er speaks:
Venerable Faci: "Practitioner Fayi has expressed a wish to interview you to better understand your experiences and the era in which you lived. If one of you could step forward to accept this interview, it would be a virtuous deed. By sharing your story, you may serve as a warning to those who read this, helping them avoid falling into the same traps of attachment. ."
The spirit of the black tea does not respond immediately. I continue to wait, chanting Namo Amituofo. Faintly, I begin to perceive the form of a long, cylindrical object.
"Who is it that dares to summon me?" (A voice, weathered by the passage of countless ages, drifts through the air.)
Venerable Faci: "Namo Amituofo. May I ask, are you the spirit of the black tea? Why does your form appear so different from what I expected?"
"Of course I am. I am the King of Teas! To consume me brings immense benefits. As for my shape, it was crafted into these long, compressed cylinders purely for the convenience of transport and preservation."
Venerable Faci: "Would you be so kind as to share your history and the era you came from? And how did you come to be embodied as black tea?"
"Let me think... how long has it been since I last looked back upon the past? How many years have truly slipped away? One hundred? Two hundred? Three hundred? I cannot recall clearly. I only know that my name was Zhuang Er. From the earliest memories I possess, my world was filled with the rich, intoxicating aroma of tea. I was surrounded by tea trees; every stage of the tea-making process was etched into my surroundings. My childhood was spent weaving through the drying racks and the fermentation vats. I had no toys, no playmates—only the tea, which became deeply branded into my memory.
"Every day, tea bricks, tea cakes, and tea cylinders of various shapes were prepared for the merchants who came to purchase our harvest. Whenever the trading season arrived, I would wait with bated breath, eager to see what exotic goods they would bring from distant lands. For a young boy like me, those were the most anticipated and special moments of my life. My father was a master of the craft in our region. He would often bring me along as he worked, explaining where to be vigilant and where to exercise caution. Every minute detail determined the value and the exquisite flavour of the batch, which in turn dictated the price. My father’s rigorous, uncompromising attitude left a profound impression on me. My mother, too, was a legendary tea picker in our village. She understood exactly when to harvest and when to wait; her mastery of timing was so precise that the entire village’s picking team held her in awe."
"As I grew up alongside batch after batch of tea leaves, I reached the age of fifteen. That year, a group of unusual merchants arrived. Beyond purchasing our tea, they brought with them rare treasures and curiosities that left us all dumbfounded. Listening to their tales, a seed of adventure sprouted in my heart. I wanted to explore this vast world. I hungered for landscapes I had never seen, places I had never visited, and foods I had never tasted. These temptations grew within me, eventually becoming my greatest ambition and goal.
"Year after year passed. My body grew strong, and I began to participate in every aspect of the tea production. One day, after a full year of working as a man, I approached my father. I told him of my desire to see the world, to try different things, to eat different foods, and to walk upon different paths. My father listened in silence for several minutes. Finally, he looked at me and said, 'Every person must take responsibility for the decisions they make. You must bear the weight of the path you choose. But remember, home will always be here waiting for your return. There will always be a place for you. I am but a simple man who knows only how to make tea; I cannot offer you much help or advice. But when you are tired, when you are weary, come home.' Hearing his words, I could not hold back my tears. I stepped forward and embraced him tightly, thanking him loudly for his understanding and support."
"I packed my bags simply and followed the merchant caravan as they left the village. I served as a labourer, and as I watched my home village fade into the distance, the complexity in my heart vanished, replaced by pure anticipation and excitement. I followed the caravan through city after city, village after village. I saw exotic customs and tasted strange foods. But I also witnessed the cruelty of survival. The competition, the schemes, the backstabbing, and the dark underbelly of human nature—all of it struck me with immense force in such a short time. My once bright and sunny personality was gradually ground down by the harshness of reality. My simple, peaceful heart became covered in black dust. I began to darken, learning to calculate for my own benefit and to guard myself against others. Yet, in the depths of my heart, I would constantly recall the simplicity of my village, the fragrance of the tea, and the warmth of my simple home.
"When I finally dragged my weary body and soul back to the village, fifteen years had passed. I had transformed from an innocent youth into a shrewd, worldly man, accustomed to calculating my own interests and suspicious of everyone. Recalling my father’s words from so long ago, I finally understood his meaning, but it was too late. I had paid a heavy price in pain and experience to learn that the simplest life is the most blissful life. Humans always seem to understand the importance of cherishing what they have only after they have lost it. My parents had passed away from illness in the fifth year of my absence. The warm home I remembered had vanished. I returned to the dilapidated remains of our house and began to slowly tidy up. It felt as if I had only just left, yet everything was so familiar and yet so strange."
"I picked up the tools my father had taught me to use and began the second half of my life as a tea maker. It was a simple, humble existence, yet it was filled with a faint, lingering satisfaction. Whenever I finished a batch of tea, I would set some aside as a memento. When the bright moon hung high in the sky, I would brew a pot of the tea I had made myself, tasting it and reminiscing. I was not drinking the flavour, but the memories themselves. As I aged, I cherished this plain life more and more. Tea became all that I had left, for it carried the entirety of my connection to my parents. It was as if they were still by my side.
"In my fifty-sixth year, I dreamt again of my father teaching me how to make tea, hand in hand. As the dream unfolded, it took me back to the two years after I had left. I became deeply immersed in that vision. My body grew weaker and weaker, and I clutched the black tea I had made to my chest, as if it were the embrace of my parents. I wore a satisfied smile. I do not know how much time passed before I heard someone calling me, and I awoke from that long slumber. I do not know how many years have gone by, only that my body has turned into black tea. I do not know how many times I have been reincarnated. If not for hearing your voice, I might have continued to cycle through rebirth, unable to find a way out!"
Venerable Faci: "I thank Zhuang Er for accepting today’s interview. It has shown us that when one develops a special attachment or emotional bond to a single thing, at the moment of death, one may be drawn into it and trapped in the cycle of rebirth, unable to escape. It is truly terrifying. Without special Causal Conditions, one would never have the opportunity to be liberated. Fortunately, the Buddha has descended here, and Practitioner Fayi has compassionately requested this interview, allowing us to form this special affinity. We will prepare a memorial tablet for you and ask Practitioner Su to help you detach from the tea form. Namo Amituofo."
Memorial Tablet: "For the countless varieties of tea and all related spirits and divine beings connected by affinity within the Pure Fragrance of the Lotus: Representative, Zhuang Er (Purification and Restoration to Original Nature)."
This interview message was recorded by the chief writer, Disciple Shi Faci.
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Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre
Contributed to Pure Land Buddhism knowledge library