The Wisdom of the Simple-Minded: An Interview with Venerable Yanfan

This is a record of an interview with the four hundred and sixty-sixth Venerable, Yanfan, who lived approximately two hundred and seventy years ago. He now resides in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. This account was recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fajing, on March 1, 2019.

Venerable Yanfan speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. My childhood nickname was A-Dai, a name given to me by my mother. I was born with a slow, simple mind; I simply could not be quick or clever like the other children, and I always appeared dull, clumsy, and perpetually confused. Although my mother gave birth to me, she found it deeply difficult to believe that she could have brought such a child into this world.

A Childhood of Misunderstood Compassion

When I was five years old, I grabbed a handful of mud and sand from the ground and tried to put it into my mouth. My older brother saw this, immediately slapped the dirt from my hands, and scolded me for being a fool, asking why I would ever eat such things. I did not really know what I was doing; I simply acted in ways that others found foolish, quite naturally. It was as if my mind was operating on a different frequency, one that the people around me could not understand.

My mother had four children, and I was the second. I had an older brother, and a younger brother and sister below me. People say the second child is usually the smartest, but I was not; I was the most foolish of the four. My mother tried many folk remedies to 'fix' my brain, but no matter what medicine she gave me, what rituals she performed, or what charms she pasted by my bed, I remained the same. Eventually, my mother gave up. No one held any hope for me anymore; they accepted that I was just a natural-born fool, a child without a proper mind.

The Boy Who Released the Pigs

Although I was slow, I understood that one should not kill. The pigs my mother raised in the sty grew fatter by the day. I watched them eat incessantly, unaware that the moment they reached their peak weight was the moment their lives would end. I had witnessed my mother slaughtering pigs, and the sound of their desperate, piercing cries still echoes clearly in my ears to this day. To keep them from suffering, I snatched their slop and sat in the sty, eating it myself to keep them from getting fat. The pigs would nudge me aside with their snouts, stick their heads into the bucket, and continue eating. I would pat them, begging them to stop, but they would not listen. Finally, I simply opened the iron gate and let them all out of the sty so they would not have to eat that slop anymore. Watching their wiggling tails as they wandered off, sniffing at flowers and grass to find food, I truly did not understand why pigs loved to eat so much, oblivious to the fact that they were about to become a meal on a human table.

Seeing the dozen or so pigs disappear, I returned to my room, feeling at peace. My brother smelled the stench of slop on me and asked what I had been doing in the sty. I proudly told him, 'Those pigs are so pitiful. If they get any fatter, Mother will sell them, and they will all be slaughtered. I could not bear to see them suffer, so I set them all free!' My brother turned pale, stood up, and asked excitedly, 'You let all the pigs go?' I nodded, and he rushed toward the sty without looking back, shouting, 'The pigs have run away! The pigs have run away!' My mother, hearing his cries from the backyard, rushed out in a panic, asking what had happened. When I told her I had set them free, she was so furious she grabbed a stick to beat me. Hearing my brother shout that he had found one, she rushed out to search everywhere.

The Burden of a Simple Heart

In the end, they recovered twelve pigs, but two were lost forever. I was forced to kneel before the ancestral tablets and was beaten by my mother. She scolded me, 'The money from one pig could feed our family for months, and you set them free! What use are you? You only bring me trouble!' My brother tried to calm her down, while my younger siblings dared not make a sound. After kneeling for an entire day, my mother finally allowed me to go to bed. My knees were numb with pain, and as I stood up, leaning on a chair, I asked my brother, 'Why must we kill?' He replied, 'We need money to survive.' I asked again, 'But why must we kill to get it?' He said impatiently, 'Selling meat is how we make the most money!' I knew he wanted to sleep, so I asked no more.

The next day, my family could not find me because I had left early. To earn money for my mother, I sought work everywhere. I finally found a job sweeping floors, which I cherished. I swept and swept, earning a little money to bring home. I ran back happily, handed the money to my mother, and said, 'Mother, I can earn money for you. Can you stop raising pigs?' She looked at the money and shouted, 'This isn't even enough for one meal! How can we live without raising pigs?' My brother pulled my hand, telling me to stop causing trouble.

A Wanderer in a World of Killing

I was cast out of the house. My mother told me, 'Since you can earn money, don't rely on me anymore. Go live your own life!' She threw all my belongings out the door, and my brother signaled for me to leave. I picked up my pack and left the home I had lived in for ten years. The world was vast, but where was I to go? I wandered alone, unknown to anyone. I had no money and understood nothing of the world. Seeing meat stalls everywhere—not just pork, but chicken, lamb, beef, and snake—I sat on the road and wept bitterly. I did not understand why people had to kill one another. I went to many homes that kept livestock and opened their gates so the animals could escape. I even snuck to the river to release fish that others had caught, just so they would not have to suffer. I did not know this was considered wrong; I only wanted to save them from pain. My actions were soon discovered, and I was dragged to the magistrate and accused of being a thief. The official asked, 'Why did you steal people's livestock?' I told him, 'I did not steal; I only set them free.' He was a kind official who realized I was a child with a mental disability. He taught me that this was not the right way to act and that if I wanted to save these animals, I should use proper methods. He pardoned me and sent me to a temple where he practiced. The monks there took me in and told me, 'If you want to save these animals, you must practise the Dharma properly.'

The Path of Diligent Practice

My mind was straightforward. To save the animals, I diligently followed my master's teachings. Without overthinking or letting my mind wander, I practised with simple, honest diligence. My master gave lectures, helping me understand truths I had never known. My mental obstacles and defects seemed to gradually heal as I listened to the scriptures day after day. I began to understand what I was doing and knew clearly that I was on the right path. I felt gratitude toward my mother for giving me the chance to be independent, and toward that compassionate official who did not punish me but sent me here to practise. I began a new life, learning to cultivate a compassionate heart to save all beings. My mind became sharper, and my heart grew more open through my practice. I made a vow not only to save animals but to save all suffering beings in the ten Dharma realms who are trapped in the cycle of rebirth.

Time flew by. I was no longer the 'foolish A-Dai' with a mental defect, but a monk who had practised for many years, with the Dharma name Yanfan. I no longer dwelled on the past; I only looked forward. Looking out, I saw countless beings struggling in the sea of suffering, reaching out for help. I lectured on the Dharma for them, telling them that suffering is an illusion, a fantasy. By letting go of greed for the world and unnecessary attachments, this sea of suffering can instantly vanish, and one can return from illusion to reality.

A Reunion and the Power of the Dharma

I saw my brother bring his own slow-witted child to the temple to pay respects to the Buddha. He looked at me in surprise, wondering if I was A-Dai. I pressed my palms together and chanted, 'Namo Amituofo.' My brother bowed respectfully. I said, 'It has been a long time, brother. How have you been?' When he confirmed I was indeed A-Dai, he was stunned. He told me, 'After you left, our home changed. Mother was ill for over ten years, often making sounds like a slaughtered pig. I knew the spirits of the pigs were coming to collect their debt. I had to repent to them constantly so Mother could leave this world early and stop suffering. I married, but my child was born with a mental defect. I came here today to seek the Buddha's help.' I saw how old my brother had become, and his child looked just as I did in my youth. I introduced the Dharma to him, helping him understand that only by studying the Buddha's teachings could he save his whole family, especially his growing child. Seeing my transformation, he was willing to have his whole family study the Dharma, bringing his wife and child to listen to the lectures every week. Through his sincerity, true repentance, and genuine change, he eventually saved his family and his child.

The Mission at Hsiang Kuang

There is no family that does not need the Buddha's teachings. I spread the Dharma wherever I went, allowing every connected family to hear the scriptures. I am grateful that the Dharma changed my life and the lives of many others, allowing us to grow together and escape the sea of suffering. I passed away at the age of eighty and was reborn in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. There, I continue to study, nourishing my spirit to prepare for another descent into the human world to save beings.

I was considering where to be reborn, but I could not find a stable place; everywhere else is a place of sinking. Only the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre, managed by Practitioner Su, truly teaches people how to escape life and death. In the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss, I learned of Practitioner Su's leg injury and immediately entered her leg to assist her. Helping Practitioner Su is equivalent to helping countless beings, allowing her to continue standing before the public to lecture on the Dharma. I admire Practitioner Su's perseverance and vows; she endures great pain to stand up for the sake of all beings. The world has sunk, and even the most famous mountains and temples have become places of false practice. There are too few people who truly understand the need to seek rebirth in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss, and even fewer practitioners who can meet the qualifications to do so. Lamenting the decline of the world, I wish to assist Practitioner Su in propagating the Dharma, for only here can the beings in the sea of suffering truly be saved. I am grateful for Practitioner Su's compassion. Namo Amituofo."