The Mettle of Nguyen Bieu and the Face Within

Darkness fell over the land of Thang Long in those bygone days, and cold winds swept desolately through rocky mountain passes, carrying the acrid scent of war and bloodshed. Inside the Ming military camp, the atmosphere was tense to the point of suffocation. A candle flickered faintly, casting dancing black shadows upon the walls of the fortress. At the banquet table, Vuong Thong, the most powerful general of the invading army, sat as host, his cold, sharp eyes scrutinizing his guest. Facing him was Nguyen Bieu, envoy of Le Loi, sitting upright with a composed and calm bearing, remarkably serene amid the encirclement of danger.

Vuong Thong wished to test the mettle of the Annam envoy. He signaled his attendants to bring in the feast. Smoke billowed from a large copper pot placed in the middle of the table, and its rich aroma made everyone assume it held some rare and precious delicacy. But when the lid was lifted, a horrifying sight appeared before all eyes: it was a human head, steamed until cooked, its hair tangled, its eyes bulging with resentment, its mouth gaping as if screaming in agony. Beside it were salt, pepper, and fresh herbs, neatly arranged, creating a contrast of utter horror.

The entire banquet fell silent. Even the Ming generals, hardened by countless battles, shuddered, their faces drained of all color. They waited to see how Nguyen Bieu would react. Would he cry out in terror? Would he collapse from shock? Or would he draw his sword in rage and attack?

But Nguyen Bieu's expression did not change. His eyes remained calm, even revealing clear contempt for the cruelty of the enemy. Slowly, he picked up his chopsticks, his movements gentle, as if dining in his own home. Every gaze fixed upon him, hearts pounding in chests. Then, before everyone's witnessing eyes, Nguyen Bieu used his chopsticks to pick up the two eyes of the human head, raised them to his mouth, and ate them with perfect composure.

That act was like a thunderclap in a clear sky. It was not merely courage, but the pinnacle of iron will, of an unyielding spirit in the face of evil. Watching this, Vuong Thong felt a mixture of fear and reverence rise within him. He thought to himself: "This is an extraordinary man. If he cannot be won over, he must be killed. To leave him alive would only make the Annam army stronger."

After his diplomatic mission, Nguyen Bieu was murdered, but his name and his noble spirit became an eternal symbol of Vietnamese patriotism and fortitude. This story has been passed down through many generations, and each time it is told, it stirs deep emotion.

In a dharma talk, Master Thich Chan Quang paused, looked around at the assembly, and asked: "When you hear this story, how does your heart feel?"

Some in the assembly nodded gently, eyes glistening, lips trembling with emotion. They felt the tragic grandeur of it, and deep reverence for the spirit of their ancestors. But there were also those who sat still with blank faces, merely shrugging or smiling faintly: "Well, this guy is something," or "How gruesome, eating someone's eyes..." and then immediately forgetting it.

The Master explained: "The difference in these reactions is the measure of each person's inner cultivation. Only those who possess wisdom, virtue, and inner strength can understand and be moved by such extraordinary actions. They see that behind the act of eating the eyes lies an unyielding spirit, a sacrifice for a great cause. Conversely, those with shallow, weak inner lives will see only the surface horror, or pass over it with indifference. They lack the strength to connect with the noble and the great."

The Master also drew parallels to reading To Huu's poetry about Uncle Ho, or to learning about the Buddha. The same story, the same exemplar, yet one person weeps with reverence and love, while another remains indifferent and cold. This is not due to the quality of the story, but to the "filter" of each person's soul. An impoverished soul, lacking strength, cannot contain the reverence due to a saint or a national hero.

The lesson to be drawn is this: if we wish to venerate the Buddha, to admire the sages and saints, we must first train ourselves so that our inner life becomes rich, strong, and profound. If our heart remains shallow, we will forever stand outside the door of enlightenment and of genuine reverence.

The Meaning of the Story

The story of Nguyen Bieu demonstrates that the capacity to perceive and revere great exemplars depends entirely on the inner strength of the observer. Only those with wisdom, virtue, and spiritual depth can understand and be moved by beauty, goodness, and courage. Indifference to noble values is a sign of a weak and shallow inner life. Therefore, to fully practice the virtue of "Venerating All Buddhas," a practitioner must strive to cultivate the inner life, raising one's level of understanding and feeling, so as to give rise to the utmost reverence for the Enlightened One.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Master Thich Chan Quang.