“Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils” originates from Buddhist scriptures, meaning “all sentient beings in the world,” symbolizing the countless lives in the vast world, reflecting the boundlessness and transcendence of Buddhist teachings. The main theme of the entire work is “No one is without grievance, all feelings are sinful,” and its style is grand and tragic, a colossal epic depicting human nature with a strong tragic tint.
Over the past year, I have read three volumes of “Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils” (out of five). I have currently reached the part where Qiao Feng is forced into the borderlands. Coincidentally, I have been reading the “Diamond Sutra” every day recently, which has quite a connection with Qiao Feng’s experience, so I would like to share it here.
First, a brief introduction to Qiao Feng’s story: As the current chief of the Central Plains Beggar Clan, Qiao Feng was highly skilled in martial arts, always open and straightforward, trusted by his subordinates, and praised by all in the martial world as a hero. But for some unknown reason, it was revealed that he was a Xixia barbarian. He was first betrayed by fellow Beggar Clan members, then framed with forged crimes for murdering his parents and master, gradually falling into a complete trap designed by others and becoming alienated by everyone. During this time, he was plagued by the ancient question: Who am I? Am I Han or Hu? Am I a good person or a bad one? Eventually, he made a big scene, personally committing numerous sins that could not be cleared, and was forced to flee to the borderlands.
I believe one major source of Qiao Feng’s suffering was his doubt about his own identity: He saw himself as a good person, a Han, but everyone called him a Hu and a villain, trying hard to eliminate him as a great demon (several traps pinned crimes on him). After being accused repeatedly over time, even he began to doubt himself—since he possessed Hu blood, was he truly a villain? Until some provocations made him completely lose himself, killing many, and firmly sealing his identity as a Hu, becoming bloodthirsty and treating people like grass.
This part corresponds perfectly with what I read in the “Diamond Sutra,” Chapter 9, “One Aspect No Aspect” section:
Subhuti, what do you think? Can a stream-enterer think, “I have attained the fruit of stream-entry”?
Subhuti said, “No, World-Honored One. Why not? Because a stream-enterer is called one who has entered the stream but has nowhere to enter, does not enter forms, sounds, smells, tastes, touches, or dharmas; this is called a stream-enterer.”
I didn’t fully understand the original text, but a commentary excerpted from Master Jing Kong’s lectures (which I haven’t found in formal publications, but is collected in Master Jing Kong Audio-Visual and Text Search Center) explains it as follows:
First fruit: Stream-enterer
In the Theravada school, the first attainment is the fruit of stream-entry. These terms come from Sanskrit. “Stream-enterer” translates in Chinese as “entering the stream,” meaning to enter the flow of saints. Being able to join this group means you’re qualified to be among saints, who are not ordinary people. It’s like joining a club in society: you become a member of the stream-enterer club, participating in that group. This is what Buddhism often calls “transforming from an ordinary person to a saint.” A stream-enterer is no longer an ordinary person but the lowest rank among saints — just entering the saintly flow.
The Buddha taught in the sutras what conditions must be met to enter this club: One must sever the “eighty-eight types of wrong views in the three realms.” These wrong views are confusion and vexations. The three realms are the desire realm, form realm, and formless realm. “Wrong views” refer to incorrect understandings and opinions. When you correct all the wrong views of sentient beings in the three realms and your views become correct, completely eliminating wrong views, you become a stream-enterer. This is not easy!
The eighty-eight types of wrong views are complicated. The Buddha and Bodhisattvas, in their compassionate skillful means, summarized them into five main categories, which makes it easier. The first is “identity view.” Look at all sentient beings in the three realms, including the form and formless realms; who does not cling to the idea that the body is self? We all think this body is ourselves, which is the first wrong view. The body is not the self! What does it mean the body is “mine”? It means the body is something I possess, like my clothes or my prayer beads, which I own but are not me. When can you realize this body is mine but not me? This is the first concept.
This is a huge mistake, the fundamental root of error, to consider the body as self. Acting for the body, one commits countless negative deeds, which is profoundly wrong! It’s like mistaking your clothes for yourself and doing all sorts of harmful deeds to protect them, accumulating endless negative karma for the sake of the clothes. Is this not unfair? The beings in the six paths do these unfair deeds. What exactly is self? We will explain in detail in the next section. This is the first wrong concept.
The second wrong view is “partial view.” All sentient beings in the three realms have it. Nowadays, scientists call it “relativity,” the concept of opposites. We all live in the state of partial view — “I” and “others,” big and small, long and short, good and evil. Truly, all are delusions; all live in the realm of relativity, and this wrong view exists in all six paths.
In the true realm, there are absolutely no opposites, no relativity. If you separate from relativity—today we speak of the absolute—yet even “absolute” and “relative” are opposites. Thus, Mahayana sutras often mention “not clinging to two extremes.” If you do not cling to either extreme, could it be called a “middle way”? The “middle way” also does not independently exist; if both extremes are gone, then your partial view breaks down. If good and evil are gone, true and false are gone, right and wrong are gone, then you might think this is the middle way. Holding a mental notion of a middle way is still a misunderstanding; you have not yet transcended. You realize how difficult it is! Achieving the fruit of stream-entry is no easy task.
In the context of Qiao Feng’s experience, whether he is Hu or Han, good or bad, what does it matter? Bloodline is not his “self”! Qiao Feng’s ending is truly tragic and poignant.
Finally, thanks to a certain senior brother and teacher Luo. Since “Star of Tiantai” days, I have calmed down to read “The Sutra of Ten Virtues,” “Treatise on the Response of the Supreme,” and the “Heart Sutra.” I am currently reading the “Diamond Sutra” and have some insights. Using a passage from the “Diamond Sutra,” I wish them boundless blessings and hope this post subtly inspires you to take an interest in the “Diamond Sutra.”
Subhuti! If there are good men and good women who offer gifts as numerous as the sands of the Ganges, and if someone upholds and accepts this sutra, even just four lines of verse within it, and teaches it to others, his blessings are great indeed—Diamond Sutra, Chapter 13, “Rightful Acceptance Section.”