The life of Li Shutong, later known as Master Hongyi, is often summarized in seven words: half a life of romance, half a life as a monk.
Before his spiritual transformation, Li Shutong was a handsome, affluent young man surrounded by luxury and admiration. Despite being born into privilege, he grappled with the heartache of unrequited love, feeling the slow drift of friends and family as his life unfolded. Though deeply unsettling, these personal pains stirred within him a profound sense of isolation and longing. Yet, through these struggles, he began to unravel the wisdom hidden in his suffering.
By the age of 38, the weight of worldly attachments finally loosened its grip, allowing him to embrace a path of enlightenment. He left behind his former life to become Master Hongyi, revered not just for his wisdom, but for his remarkable transformation — a journey of self-discovery born from the very regrets that once consumed him.
The many regrets of his earlier life ultimately contributed to the tranquility and composure of his later years. As the saying goes, all hardships and regrets are for cultivation. The appearance of these things is not meant to torment you, but to teach you how to encounter a better version of yourself.
Unfulfilled relationships: Strengthening your inner self
It is said that the greatest regret in life is meeting someone you wish to care for forever, only to feel powerless to do so. Li Shutong experienced this firsthand.
At the age of 16, he met the famous opera singer Yang Cuixi while listening to music in a theater. He became deeply infatuated, and he was unwilling to leave even after the show ended. Yang, who rarely felt moved by others, also felt a stir in her heart upon meeting him.
After that, they met almost every day at the theater. Li would always sit in the front row for each of Yang’s performances, applauding her enthusiastically. After the show, he would escort her home, lantern in hand to light their way. As they spent more time together, their feelings deepened, and Li began to consider marrying Yang.
However, the wealthy Li family would not allow him to marry an actress. Though Yang was a celebrated star, she had no control over her own life, like a duckweed drifting in the current. Later, when Li went to Shanghai for work, Yang was sold off as a concubine for a high price.
Upon hearing the news, Li was heartbroken and despondent. Not wanting to see him fall into despair, his mother, Wang, quickly arranged a marriage for him with a woman from the well-matched Yu family. In the days that followed, Li respected his new wife, no longer consumed by his past love. Slowly, he began to release the pain of the past.
Many people will experience unfulfilling relationships in their lives. These relationships can cause great suffering, but they also hold valuable lessons. If specific individuals leave you with endless regret and trauma, it is because fate is trying to teach you strength and help you grow through the experience.
Distant friends: Learning to accept gatherings and partings
The writer Huang Yuyang once wrote in Passing By: “Gatherings and partings have their time; historically, rain and mist leave no one.” This sentiment likely reflects Li’s mindset when he penned Farewell. In 1898, Li moved to Shanghai, where he formed a close friendship with Xu Huanyuan, Yuan Xilian, and others, known as the “Five Friends of the Ends of the Earth.” They often gathered to discuss poetry and enjoy a relatively carefree time together.
However, even the strongest friendships are subject to the currents of fate in turbulent times. When an economic crisis struck, Xu suddenly went bankrupt and was forced to leave Shanghai for distant lands. In the heavy snow, he came to bid farewell outside Li’s home: “Brother Shutong, I’ve gone bankrupt; we’ll meet again someday…” With these words, he turned and vanished into the storm.
Watching his friend disappear into the snow, Li was overwhelmed with mixed emotions and, moved to tears, he wrote the poem Farewell. In the years that followed, the five friends parted ways, never to reunite. Through these constant gatherings and farewells, Li learned to view both joy and sorrow with a detached perspective. Eventually, he retreated into the monastic life, relinquishing the melancholy that came with life’s ever-changing nature.
In the Blooming of Flowers, it states: “From birth to old age, our lives are a process of constant loss and separation.” Along the way, those who once celebrated with you may gradually drift away due to life’s journey; those who promised lifelong friendship may one day wave goodbye at a specific moment, as fate pulls them in another direction.
Yet, even so, there is no need to feel overly sorrowful or fixated on gatherings and partings. Those who have come into your life have already planted a landscape in your heart. Recalling those times will fill you with warmth from the depths of your soul, no matter how difficult the future may be. And this is the most significant aspect of meeting those we encounter.
Contradictory experiences: Learning to forgive life’s imperfections
At the beginning of life, fate gave Li an excellent start. Yet, in the years that followed, it never fully satisfied him. He fell in love with a woman, but was rejected by society, helplessly watching as the woman he loved married another. He formed close friendships, only to be forced to part from them as circumstances pulled them in different directions. He aspired to succeed through the imperial examination, only to face repeated setbacks, ultimately failing to become a scholar. Later, he threw himself into the revolutionary movement, but within a hundred days, the reform failed.
The Li family, fearing they would be implicated, drove Li and his family out. Later, Li’s mother passed away, and the family business in Tianjin went bankrupt. A series of misfortunes gradually led Li to gain new insights into life: “Life is like the setting sun in the west; wealth and honor are ultimately like frost on tiles.”
What we value — fame, wealth, and love — if we are fortunate enough to obtain them, will eventually be lost at some point. Since this is the inevitable outcome, why regret when things don’t go as wished or feel sorrowful about life’s imperfections?
Realizing this, Li no longer resented the pains he had experienced and gradually attained profound enlightenment about life. In 1918, at the age of thirty-eight, he severed all worldly ties and became a monk at Hupao Temple in Hangzhou, taking the Dharma name “Hongyi.” Over the following decades, Li cultivated himself through hardship, offering others compassion and guidance, and lived in the highest spiritual realm.
I remember seeing a saying online: Some things heaven prevents you from achieving are a form of protection. Please don’t be angry or complain; everything has its destiny. Remember: Gaining is not always a blessing, and losing is not always a misfortune. The more you experience, the more you realize that there is no such thing as a perfect life. All contradictions are simply another form of fulfillment. Learn to accept life’s imperfections, and you will find peace with what may appear to be disappointments.
When Master Hongyi passed away in 1942, he left behind four words: “Mixed feelings of sorrow and joy (悲喜交加).” These four words encapsulate his life’s wisdom and serve as his final message.
Through his experiences, he conveyed that every life must contain sorrow and joy, gains and losses, regrets and completeness. These complexities intertwine to shape our unique existence. Therefore, do not complain about the sufferings that fate brings or criticize life’s imperfections. All pain, loss, regrets, and missed opportunities are merely checkpoints along the way. When you pass through them, you will transform into a better version of yourself.
Translated by Joseph Wu
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