Ming Sheng started BuddhaLuck because he’d seen too much junk.
Fifteen years studying Zen Buddhism and Chinese feng shui in Jinan taught him what was wrong with the “spiritual jewelry” market. Cheap alloys stamped with Buddha images. Mass-produced in factories. Sold to people looking for something real, then forgotten in drawers after a week.
“Nobody respects the culture. Nobody respects the buyer.”
He decided to do it properly.
Starting at Lingyan Temple
Lingyan Temple in Jinan has stood for 1,600 years. Ming Sheng found a Buddhist advisor there and asked: If we’re going to make real spiritual jewelry, how do we do this right?
The answer: Learn the rules first. Business comes later.
Now every batch of BuddhaLuck products goes to Lingyan Temple for blessing. Not for photos. For real. Peace, protection, luck—each wish spoken aloud.
“I wear our products,” Ming Sheng says. “If it hasn’t been blessed, I won’t sell it.”
Finding the Craftsmen
In Jiangsu and Zhejiang provinces, several old craftsmen still work by hand. Third-generation artisans. Forty years of experience each. Ming Sheng visited them one by one until he found the right partners.
“They’re slow. But they’re steady. One piece takes a long time, but you can tell it was made by hand.”
BuddhaLuck’s first product was the Fu Lu gourd pendant. In Chinese culture, the gourd represents fortune and prosperity. The old craftsmen carved each one from natural wood. No two pieces look exactly alike.
Then came the wealth-attracting Pixiu bracelets. Pixiu is a mythical creature that only takes in, never gives out—popular with business owners. Later, premium Hetian jade bangles from Xinjiang, grade A material.
The Numbers
By April 2026, BuddhaLuck had served over 17,000 customers across 17 countries. Repeat purchase rate: 96%. Average rating: 4.93.
“Many people buy once, then come back six months later. For family. For friends.”
Ming Sheng doesn’t take credit for this. He says the products speak for themselves. “When you wear something that’s actually been blessed, you feel the difference. Customers can tell.”
Now
BuddhaLuck is still a small team. Headquarters still in Jinan. Ming Sheng still reads customer messages daily. Someone landed a job interview. Someone felt calmer. Someone just felt more grounded.
“I don’t promise good luck to everyone,” he says. “But I promise everything is real. Real materials. Real handwork. Real blessings. That’s enough.”