The Final Moments in the Wang Fuk Court Fire

This is a record of an interview with Chan Guan-zhao, who sought deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Dharma-Nature Land. This account reflects upon his passing during the fire at Wang Fuk Court in the Tai Po district of Hong Kong. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa, on December 2, 2025.

Practitioner Su speaks:

"Chan Guan-zhao, you were a victim of the fire at 3821 Tai Po Road, Yuen Chau Tsai, Hong Kong. You were there at the Wang Fuk Court when the fire broke out, and you lost your life in that tragedy. You now reside in the Western Dharma-Nature Land of the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. With the compassion of the Buddha, I invite you, Chan Guan-zhao, to recount the events of that disaster exactly as they happened, so that your family may hear your testimony and connect with you here at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre. I respectfully invite Chan Guan-zhao of the Western Dharma-Nature Land to speak."

Chan Guan-zhao speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am Chan Guan-zhao, sixty-nine years old. I was one of those who passed away in the fire at Wang Fuk Court in Hong Kong. My life was very simple. I enjoyed going out for dim sum with my neighbours in the afternoons. Sometimes, when the restaurant prices were too high, I would just make the dishes myself at home. I also took on odd jobs here and there to earn enough for my living expenses.

A Lifetime of Memories Turned to Ash

I worked hard my entire life, and it was only when I turned sixty-five that I finally finished paying off my home. I designed the interior of that apartment all by myself. Every little object held a wealth of memories for me. On the cabinets, there were photos of my parents and my wife, though they had left this world long before I did.

Even though I often felt lonely, which is why I liked to visit friends and share a meal, I was content. Every day, I would go to the breakfast shop to wait for the free newspapers, just to save a little money. Even though I was living alone, I felt satisfied. Those warm memories are still etched in my heart. This fire of ignorance did not just destroy a life; it burned away the fruits of my entire life's labour.

The Warning Ignored

The tragedy happened like this: I had happily baked some egg tarts because an old friend was celebrating a birthday. I had bought too many ingredients, so I decided to make extra to share with my neighbours. They had always looked after me, and I felt it was only right to share something good with them. I went to the neighbour's door and knocked. The eldest niece came out and called me 'Grandpa.' She smiled so sweetly and invited me in to sit for a while; her grandfather was my chess partner. At that moment, I had a thought—perhaps I shouldn't go in. I told her I had important things to do, so I gave her the egg tarts, and she accepted them happily. I told her I would come back to see her grandfather another time.

That day, for the first time, I felt a tightness in my chest. I had a strange feeling that something was about to happen, so I didn't really want to go out. I decided to lie on my rattan chair and watch a Hong Kong drama. I thought there was no place like home. As I watched the television, I drifted off into a hazy sleep.

The Reality of the Inferno

Suddenly, I smelled smoke. I thought I was dreaming—perhaps dreaming that I was cooking something delicious. I didn't pay much attention, ignoring the warning signs of the fire. I thought, 'If there were a fire, the alarm would sound, and my neighbours would come to warn me.' That thought cost me my chance to escape. I was sleeping very soundly. The smell wasn't just the usual cooking smoke; it was a foul, acrid odour accompanied by thick, choking fumes. My mind was still questioning whether I should wake up—how could a dream smell so real and be so close? I opened my eyes and was terrified. The thick smoke had filled almost the entire room. I panicked. How could this smoke be in my house? I pinched my face, wondering, 'Did my kitchen catch fire? Did I forget to unplug something? Did the oven burn out?' My mind was racing with questions, but then my legs cramped up. The muscles were in excruciating pain, and that was when I finally realised that my home was the scene of a fire.

The thick smoke began to drill into my nostrils. I was choked by the fumes, and tears and mucus streamed down my face. I gathered all my strength and walked toward the bathroom. I grabbed a towel, soaked it in water, and covered my mouth and nose. I scooped water from the tank and poured it over my body. I was soaked and freezing, but I tried to calm myself down. I rushed to the door to find my chess partner. I steeled my heart and, regardless of how thick the smoke was or how pitch-black it had become—the power had gone out—I shouted, 'Ah Jing! Ah Jing, can you hear me? There's a fire, get out quickly!' No matter how much I called out, no one answered.

A Helpless Soul in the Dark

I began to feel terrified. Sparks appeared before my eyes, and I heard the sound of pipes bursting. My legs trembled uncontrollably. I felt as helpless as an infant, and I began to cry out. 'Where is everyone? Where is everyone?' The hallway was filled with thick smoke; which way should I go? I covered my mouth and nose, trying to encourage myself, 'You will be fine. As long as you have a heart and a breath left, you can escape.' But I lived on a high floor—did I have the strength? I couldn't scare myself or jump to conclusions. My mind went blank. The faint smell of smoke had turned into sparks, and then into a raging inferno. The air grew thin, and my skin could feel the heat waves of the fire rushing toward me. I felt as if I were in another world, fleeing from my beloved home. I didn't have time to take the photos of my parents and wife, nor my documents, bank cards, or cash. I didn't even have my mobile phone. How could I notify anyone to save me? As I thought of these things, the tongues of fire were already closing in on me.

I had to make a split-second decision: go down or go up? The smoke was too thick, so I decided to run upward. I spent every ounce of my strength trying to leave that place. I couldn't linger; I just kept the images of my parents and wife in my heart. But the fire caught up to me.

The Call to the Buddha

I was still conscious when the fire reached my ankles. It was so painful—I hadn't even had time to put on my shoes. I rushed upward, but the fire would not let me go. It began to spread upward. The pain reached my very bones. My skin shrivelled and curled, and large pieces of flesh fell away. I told myself, 'I cannot die yet. I can still hold on. I must reach the roof. That will save me.' No matter how the fire burned me, I had only one belief: I must survive to be worthy of my parents. I began to pray internally, 'Buddha, Bodhisattvas, please have compassion and save me! If I can survive, I will do good deeds, speak good words, and help others. I have never done anything bad in my life. Why is this happening to me?' I cried so bitterly. I could even smell my own flesh burning.

I don't know how many floors I climbed. My foot bones were burned, and blood was flowing, yet I felt no pain. It turned out that my spirit was holding on through sheer willpower, trying to escape, while my body was already being consumed by the fire. I was determined to leave that terrifying place. My soul began to drift, wandering aimlessly. Whenever I saw a door, I would shout, 'Everyone, get out! Don't take your things, just run for your lives!' I kept pressing the doorbells, frantically trying to save everyone. As a lonely person, I was often alone, and the neighbours in our building had always been especially kind to me.

The Golden Light of Deliverance

I was still worried about my old friends; I didn't want them to suffer the same fate as me. Just then, a golden light illuminated the dark space, and the fire seemed to be blocked off. My eyes couldn't see clearly who was standing there, but in the blur, the figure was so tall. The raised arm seemed to be calling to me. Besides the smell of burning, I also smelled a pure, clean fragrance that no perfume in the human world could compare to. Then, I walked naturally into the light.

I didn't know where I was, but the feeling of terror had vanished. I was bathed in a very warm light. Even though I had been severely burned and deformed, and my feet had been scorched away—I should have been rolling on the ground in agony—I found myself completely unharmed. Looking at myself sitting peacefully on a large lotus flower, with nectar falling from the sky to bathe my entire body, my heart became clear. It was the compassionate Namo Amituofo who had shone His light in the darkness to guide us out of suffering. It was the Golden Arm that guided not only me but other suffering beings as well. It was the Buddha's compassion that reduced my pain. My heart was filled with gratitude.

The Buddha's grace is hard to repay. That is why I, Chan Guan-zhao, must tell the story of how Namo Amituofo saved me. Furthermore, I have been placed by the compassionate Buddha in the Western Dharma-Nature Land, bathed in the Buddha's light. I feel a coolness and peace I have never known before! Now, I no longer cry or complain; I focus solely on chanting Namo Amituofo. Finally, I want to express my deepest gratitude to Practitioner Su of the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre, as well as the other masters and volunteers. It was Practitioner Su who called out my name, allowing me to connect with the Buddha and be rescued from my suffering. Please accept my kowtows of gratitude! Namo Amituofo. Chan Guan-zhao"