Three Hundred Billion and the Secret Greed

After ten years of diligent practice, a man had built a model image within the Buddhist community. He was devoted to charitable work, humble in speech, and seemed to have overcome material temptations. Each day, he sat in meditation and chanted sutras, telling himself that his mind was pure and free from attachment to money or fame. He firmly believed that even if a pile of gold were dumped before him, he would smile and refuse it, or use it for merit without any hesitation.

Suddenly, one day, a wealthy businessman appeared at the door of his meditation room. The visitor expressed deep admiration for the man’s virtue over the past decade, noting his long retreats and active social engagements. With a sincere tone, he said:

"I have observed you for a long time. In this world, I no longer trust anyone, not even my wife and children. But I trust you. I possess assets worth three hundred billion dong, a huge sum unknown to my family. I wish to entrust this entire amount to your management for charitable purposes. I believe that with your moral integrity, this money will generate immeasurable merit."

At first, the practitioner felt hesitant, but then reassured himself: "I am not greedy. I accept this to do good deeds, to build temples, give alms, and help the poor. This is an opportunity to dedicate more to the Buddha's teachings (Dharma)." With this thought, he nodded and agreed to take responsibility. From the outside, this action seemed entirely correct and blameless. He prepared himself mentally to receive this great mission.

However, the date for transferring the funds kept being postponed. First, the businessman said, "I apologize, I am stuck with some bank procedures; please wait half a month." The practitioner remained patient. In the second week, he messaged again: "Some legal issues have arisen; please bear with me for another week." His patience began to waver. By the third week, when there was still no sign of the money, a simmering irritation started to kindle in his heart. He wondered: "Why did he break his promise? Is he mocking me? I have already planned how to spend these three hundred billion!"

The anger escalated. He began to feel insulted and disrespected. Thoughts about "how many good deeds I could do if I had the money" turned into regret and rage. At that precise moment, a "bodhisattva of unconventional conduct"—perhaps the businessman himself or a close friend—stepped forward and spoke bluntly to his face:

"Look within yourself. After ten years of practice, you thought greed was gone. Yet, merely because of an empty promise regarding three hundred billion, you erupted in hatred. Your greed does not lie in seizing the money, but in clinging to the illusion of power and your ability to perform good deeds. When that illusion was threatened by delay, anger arose. This is clear proof that seeds of greed and hatred still sleep in the depths of your mind/heart."

These words were like a splash of cold water, waking the man up. He realized that without this "trick," without this fabricated adversity, he would have lived forever in the delusion of his own purity. The three hundred billion never existed, but the lesson about the secret mind was entirely real. He understood that Mara opposed the Buddha before his enlightenment for this very reason: to confirm once and for all that evil no longer existed. Without absolute testing, enlightenment can never be complete.

From then on, the man returned to Tu Tan Pagoda, continuing his practice with greater humility. He knew that the path to eliminating afflictions (kleshas) was long and required skillful means, whether sweet or bitter, to illuminate the hidden corners of the mind.

The Meaning of the Story

This story highlights the essential role of "unconventional conduct" in uncovering subtle unwholesome states that practitioners often fail to recognize themselves. Despite appearing moral and embodying non-self (anatta), when faced with promises of power or vast resources—even illusory ones—the latent seeds of greed, hatred and delusion arise. Unconventional conduct serves as a harsh test, forcing the practitioner to confront the truth about themselves. Only then can they progress toward true enlightenment, just as Mara tested the Buddha before his awakening.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Most Venerable Thich Chan Quang