In my home town in Manchuria, I met a filial son by the name of You Zhihui. He had been an outlaw involved in plundering, looting, kidnapping, extortion, and every sort of evil. One day he was badly injured. He was on the verge of death, but he then recovered. Thereupon he discovered his conscience and became greatly ashamed. He decided to change himself and reform, to become a totally new person. He also vowed, “If I don’t die, I’m determined to practice filial piety by staying by my parents’ grave in mourning.” Not long afterwards, his wound healed. He returned home, built a hut by his parents’ grave, and lived there for some years.
One summer, the area was flooded by torrential rain. He resolved his mind and prayed to heaven, “If it stops raining within three days, I will cut my flesh as a sacrifice to heaven.” Then he thought that waiting until it stopped raining to worship heaven would be a case of bribing; to show his utmost sincerity he should do it straightaway. So he prepared an incense altar and prayed for heaven to protect the people of that area and let them have a good harvest. Then he took a knife and cut some of his flesh from his chest. Due to profuse bleeding, he passed out on the ground.
His sincerity moved heaven and earth. A miracle happened: the rain stopped right away. When his family brought food over and found him lying unconscious in a pool of blood, they woke him up and tended to his wound. Half a month later the wound healed. During that half month, a delightful little bird flew to his bedside every day to comfort him, singing, “Do more merit! Do more merit! How wonderful it is to do merit!” and became a good friend to him. Half a month later, the bird was gone. His utmost sincerity stopped the pouring rain and brought the company of a divine bird. It was an inconceivable state.
One year we met. We sat face to face for an hour without speaking a word. Why? Because there was nothing to be said. Everything was in the unspoken. He understood me and I understood him. We had a tacit agreement. It could only be comprehended, not expressed by words.
When I went to Taiwan to propagate the Buddhadharma and met the Fruit Monk (Elder Dharma Master Guangqin), the same thing happened. We sat face to face without speaking, but there was boundless joy in our hearts; such was the wonderful functioning of responding minds. It was what’s known as “the mind certifying the mind” in unhindered communication.