“Taiwan, may you be forever happy” — A Japanese stone tablet buried in the hills of Beitou

Kobo Daishi refers to the famous monk Kūkai, who traveled to Tang Dynasty China in the early 9th century to study Buddhist scriptures. He later invented the katakana script and had a profound influence on Japanese religion and culture. After Kūkai’s passing, the Japanese Emperor honored his contributions by bestowing upon him the title “Kobo Daishi.”

(Quoted from Tony’s Natural and Cultural Travelogue)

The shrine of the “Buddhist Deity Fudō Myōō (Immovable King of Wisdom)” is built along the mountainside, offering a very tranquil atmosphere. When Kobo Daishi (Kūkai) was returning to Japan by boat from China, he encountered a violent storm. In great danger, he prayed to Fudō Myōō for safety, and the deity is said to have slashed the waves with his sword, calming the sea. Hence, this deity is revered in Japan as the “Wave-Cutting Fudō Myōō.”

The rock wall is inscribed with the year Meiji 40, though the character “治” (governing/rule) appears to have been damaged. You can still see the names of worshippers on the wall—all Japanese, with no Han Chinese names visible.

On the ground lie many stone tablets engraved with Japanese names, resembling the donation plaques found in temples.

Walking down the stairs and looking back, you’ll notice the stairway used for worship, with dedicatory inscriptions on both sides. At first, I thought it was a Shinto shrine, but netizens corrected me—it’s not a shrine but rather a Buddhist-related site similar to a sacred power spot.

Climbing up from the rock wall next to the “Wave-Cutting Fudō Myōō,” you can find a foundation stone with a nice view, although a few power lines somewhat obstruct the scenery.

After viewing the Daishi Rock, we began a thorough search, heading down toward the Hot Spring Hotel, hoping to make a discovery today.

Oh my God!!! Just a few steps down the path, Dennis spotted the century-old stone tablet by the roadside.

You have to crouch down really low to see it—I must’ve passed by hundreds of times without noticing. The tablet is inscribed with“Taiwan yo, e ni sachi nare”, which in Chinese means"Taiwan, may you always be happy."These words, having traversed a century, still carry the power of a heartfelt wish, warming the heart like the gentle sunshine of spring.

We searched for two years and finally found it in 2014. The year of Jiawu was a turbulent time for Taiwan—waves of upheaval struck one after another, from the Sunflower Student Movement and the Penghu air disaster to the Kaohsiung gas explosions. Time and again, we prayed for Taiwan, hoping for "God bless Taiwan," and "Taiwan, may you always be happy" resonated just as deeply.

I was caught in the mire of the times, flooded with doubts and thoughts that hit me like a tsunami. Was this Japanese stone tablet originally written by Japanese people in Taiwan? Or by Taiwanese who had received a Japanese education?

With no signature, date, or name, it leaves endless room for imagination.

The foreman said this could be another story like *Cape No. 7*—it could even be made into a movie.

Just how intense and moving can the love stories of people be against the backdrop of a tumultuous era?

Well, we’ll leave that to the screenwriters to keep imagining.

This stone tablet was placed near a shrine, possibly signifying that in the face of great turmoil, people turned to faith for solace, engraving their hopes as a prayer.

The era is long past, and there’s no way to verify now. Though my suspicions have always pointed to World War II, I believe this stone tablet is absolutely one of the most emotionally resonant memories on Taiwanese soil. Whether it’s a remnant of the Qing Dynasty, Japanese rule, or Dutch rule, it’s all the land’s most precious heritage.

We usually pray for "peace," but the word "happiness" carries a broader vision and deeper emotion. Without profound attachment, how could such sincere words be written?

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