There was a small temple called the Jōhōji Temple to the south of the Hōshōji Temple. The administrative priest of the Jōhōji Temple had a sacerdotal appearance, but his mind and actions were as vulgar as those of a spoilt layman. He violated the precepts by committing sins, such as killing, stealing, promiscuous behavior, and drinking liquor, which were caused by ignorance, anger, and greediness. He spoke false words as he liked, engaged in vulgar entertainments, and wasted his time daily in playing backgammon and go. He used the temple belongings for personal purposes without regret, and was oblivious to the greed, desire, and delusions that degraded him. The way he indulged himself in evil deeds was like a sea absorbing streams and like a fire consuming faggot.

His ten colleagues once recommended that he visit the Kiyomizu Temple, and they accompanied him there. On their way home, they all visited the Rokuwara-mitsuji Temple, and happened to listen to the lecture on the Hokekyō. They returned rejoicing. This was the single good deed done by the administrator in all his life. He did nothing else good. Finally, he became old, his life was exhausted, and he passed away.

Due to his bad deeds, the administrator was naturally reborn as a great poisonous snake whose spirit possessed his widow, and which tearfully grieved over its suffering snake status saying, “Since I indulged myself in evil and since I did very little good, I have suffered the consequences of my bad karma, and am reborn to endure the greatest sufferings. My body is as hot as the burning fire which burns all the trees and grasses that touch my body. Countless poisonous insects live in my body, devour my flesh when hungry, and suck my fluids when thirsty. Thus, my torments and sufferings are indescribable. But on account of a single good deed done in my past, I am relieved from torture for a short while.

While still the administrator, I happened to listen to the lecture on the Hokekyō at the Rokuwara-mitsuji Temple. The merit of the sūtra had permeated me, and every day, at the Hour of the Sheep [one to three o’clock in the afternoon], a cool breeze blew from the direction of the Rokuwara-mitsuji Temple, and fanned my body, which was immediately relieved from the heat and insect bites. During this short time, my heart and body were filled with joy, but at the same time, I showed regret for my lack of merit by hitting my head with my tail while shedding bloody tears.

The merit from hearing one lecture has benefitted me over many years. How would it be if one practised the Buddhist Way all his life? Wouldn’t it be possible for one to take even a lotus seat some day? Now I wish you to copy the Hokekyō, and release me from my suffering.”

All those who listened to this, said, “We should abandon everything, and listen to the Hokekyō recitations.” The widow and her children felt pitiful, copied the sūtra, and offered services. Later they were notified that the administrator was finally delivered from his suffering. (Page 56-57)