From Political Ambition to the Gates of Hell

This is a record of an interview with Guan Zhengmin, who sought deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. This account reflects upon his life in the human realm and his subsequent service as a prison guard in the hells. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Faxin, on September 23, 2022.

Guan Zhengmin speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am Guan Zhengmin. In my past life, I was consumed by a relentless pursuit of worldly prestige, status, and fame. It was only after suffering through several severe illnesses that I began to realise that health is the most precious treasure of all. That was my first awakening, but it was not until after my death, when the King of Hell appointed me as a prison guard, that I truly understood the nature of existence. Watching countless suffering spirits endure retribution for the karma they created while chasing physical gratification, I finally woke up. I realised that none of those worldly pursuits were ever the true goal of life.

When my heart was filled with doubt and I desperately sought answers, I heard Practitioner Su giving Dharma talks. Through those teachings, the mysteries of life and death were unravelled for me, and I finally understood that I should have been seeking the eternity of the soul. From that moment on, I yearned for the day I could be reborn in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. I never imagined that today, my wish would finally be fulfilled. I stand here now, alongside fifty-nine other prison guards, upon a lotus flower in the Western Land. Seeing the compassionate face of the Buddha, my heart is overflowing with gratitude."

The Weight of Unfulfilled Expectations

"I am Guan Zhengmin, and from the time I was a small child, my only ambition was to be a 'successful' person. My parents drilled it into me from the very beginning: 'Only if you become a success will people look up to you.' Because of this, I grew up with my nose in the air. I looked down on those I perceived to be of a lower social class. I refused to associate with them because my mother warned me that they lacked culture and would only lead me astray. I listened to her, and my circle of friends in school was limited to children from backgrounds similar to my own.

I declared that I would become a high-ranking official, while my friends aimed to be professors. We made a pact to climb to the very top of the social ladder. In truth, I was not particularly gifted academically, but my mother, desperate for me to mingle with the elite, pulled strings to get me into an exclusive private school. My parents were not particularly successful themselves, but they wanted me to live out the dreams they never achieved. From childhood, their expectations were like a needle, piercing my heart. I was never truly happy, but I felt compelled to do whatever was necessary to satisfy them."

The Corrupt Path to Power

"Whenever my parents spoke with their friends, I was always the topic of conversation. They would boast about my grades, claiming I was always at the top of my class and that my teachers predicted a brilliant future for me. Their friends would shower them with praise, saying how well they had raised me. Although they were praising me, every word felt like a heavy weight pressing down on my chest. I felt suffocated.

By middle school, I began to suffer from a persistent tightness in my chest. As the condition worsened, I finally told my parents. They took me to the hospital, but the doctors could find no physical cause, attributing it entirely to stress. I agreed with them—my parents put pressure on me, and I put pressure on myself. This stress was never resolved; I could only find temporary relief by binge-eating or talking to the empty air.

I eventually entered university, majoring in political science, and embarked on a political career. My fame grew, and my parents poured their life savings into my campaigns. Fortunately, I did not let them down; I was elected as a local representative. It took years of networking to achieve that result. The moment I stood on the podium and heard the applause, I felt an indescribable sense of pride and accomplishment. I began planning and serving the district, which further bolstered my reputation. Everywhere I went, people shook my hand, thanking me for my service and the benefits I had secured for them."

A Bitter Taste of Failure

"At first, I was genuinely dedicated to serving the people. But as the next election approached, a competitor emerged—a man who had lived in the town for years and was universally recognised as a good person. I could feel the genuine affection the people had for him. My heart sank. I could not bear the thought of losing my status in the eyes of the public. I stopped serving the people for their own sake and began spending money to buy their favour. I misused public funds, dipping into the national treasury to secure my position. I had completely lost my reason.

I became ruthless. When I discussed these tactics with my mother, she supported my extreme methods, which only convinced me that I was doing nothing wrong. I plunged headlong into corruption. I never expected to fall so hard. I used underhanded tactics, even resorting to slander to suppress my opponent. But the people saw through it; they loved him, and no matter what I said or what rumours I spread, the townspeople stood by him.

On election day, I knew the result in my heart, but I refused to accept it. When the votes were counted, I had only thirty percent, while he had seventy. It was a crushing defeat—the first time I had ever tasted failure. I was devastated. When I returned home, my mother berated me, complaining about all the money she had spent on me. I knew she was hurting, so I let her vent, even though her words were cruel. It was the first time I had truly failed them."

Awakening Through Suffering

"Without my political position, I drifted into administrative work, feeling utterly depressed. I carried my competitive nature into the office, desperate to be noticed by my superiors. Honestly, I was exhausted. Every day, I wished I could just rest, but my pride and stubborn personality kept pushing me forward. I still hoped that one day I would rise again and make everyone look at me with awe.

But the reality was clear: without the money or the connections, I was just an ordinary administrator. Every year when I returned home for the New Year, I would give my parents a red envelope, and my mother would open it in front of me and ask, 'Why is there so little?' I was mortified. I never managed to get elected to high office again, and my mother’s tone toward me was often laced with sarcasm. I endured it all, swallowing my bitterness while facing my failures and the accusations of my own family.

At forty-one, my weight began to plummet, and I lacked the strength to carry on. A hospital check-up revealed a tumour in my stomach. It was already in the second stage, bordering on the third. If I did not start treatment immediately, my condition would deteriorate rapidly. I was forced to quit my job. The treatment was agonising. My family stayed by my side, heartbroken to see me suffer. Because of my illness, my mother’s attitude softened; she stopped pushing me. For five years, the tumour recurred and spread to different parts of my body. I was tortured by physical pain, but I eventually survived."

From Hell to the Western Pure Land

"During that time, Christian friends reached out to me, offering hope. After I recovered, I joined them, volunteering to serve others. I helped many elderly people and orphans, and I volunteered in hospitals. Witnessing the cycle of birth, aging, sickness, and death, I finally realised that helping others brought more joy than any selfish pursuit ever could. Under their guidance, I found a happiness I had never known. Looking back, all the competition and ambition were nothing compared to the smile of a child I had helped.

I had finally found myself. I lived until I was fifty-six, spending my final years serving those in need. Although the cancer eventually spread, I felt that I had truly experienced life, and that was enough. When I closed my eyes for the last time, the King of Hell summoned me. He showed me that my past karma of killing was so heavy that my illness and death were inevitable, and the karma I created in this life also required retribution. I repented, and seeing my sincerity and the remaining blessings I had, the King of Hell allowed me to serve as a prison guard.

I saw how painfully everyone was suffering, and my heart ached. I wanted to counsel the beings in hell, but I lacked the ability. Fortunately, I heard Practitioner Su giving Dharma talks in the hells. I learned the principles of the Dharma and understood the importance of liberation. I prayed that one day I could escape. Today, that day finally arrived. I am reborn in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. I am so grateful to the Buddha for creating this Pure Land to lead countless beings to salvation, and I am deeply grateful to Practitioner Su for compassionately leading us sixty prison guards to this place.

Guan Zhengmin, with palms joined in gratitude."