This is a record of an interview with Hou Guangyong, who sought deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. This account reflects upon his life and his subsequent experiences as a spirit. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fajing, on March 22, 2025.
Hou Guangyong speaks:
". We prison guards are truly fortunate to have arrived here in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss, finally bringing our cycle of rebirth to a permanent end.
I look around and see many of my fellow guards still standing there in a daze, unable to believe that we have truly reached the Western Land. To be honest, I also find it all quite surreal, yet it is undeniably real. It has truly happened within our cycle of rebirth—in this very lifetime, we were brought here by Practitioner Su, and we have finally attained liberation.
A Childhood Defined by Scarcity
In this life, I had a profound love for flowers. I know exactly why I developed this passion; my childhood was so incredibly bitter, so filled with hardship, that there was almost nothing else to bring me . As I grew older, I discovered that whenever I saw a flower, my mood would instantly lift. It did not matter if the flower was large or small, whether it grew in someone else's garden or was just a wild bloom by the roadside. Whenever I saw a flower, I would stop to admire it. I felt they were all so beautiful, each with its own unique character, and they were the only things that could make my heart feel light.
I grew up relying solely on my mother, but she fell ill when I was only five years old. Our family was desperately poor, and we often went without meals. At five, I could not do much work, but every day I worried about finding something for my mother to eat. I could not bear to see her go hungry. To try and cure her illness, I would wander everywhere searching for medicinal herbs, hoping to find a remedy that would heal her.
I still remember how I ate whatever I could find, just to keep the hunger at bay. But I could not let my mother eat such scraps because she was sick. Fortunately, the owner of the local rice mill was a kind man. He allowed me to bring my bowl to his shop every day to collect the grains that had fallen onto the floor.
The Scraps of Survival
The rice in the mill was constantly being moved, and inevitably, grains would spill onto the ground. The workers usually ignored these scattered grains, so when I begged the owner to let me collect them, he agreed immediately.
Every single morning, I would take a bowl with a chipped edge, greet the owner, and then crouch on the floor to pick up the rice. I picked them up one by one, grain by grain, placing them into my bowl. I would not stand up until the bowl was about seventy or eighty percent full. Then, I would thank the owner and carry that bowl of rice home with the utmost care.
That rice was meant for my mother. She loved porridge, so I would often cook it for her. That single bowl of rice could last for two or three meals; by adding plenty of water and making the porridge thin, I could at least give us both a sense of fullness.
Every day, I would fetch water from the creek and chop firewood. In the early mornings, I would boil a pot of hot water to wipe my mother's body, as she would often wake up drenched in sweat. If I did not dry her off quickly, she would catch a cold. I had to ensure the water was ready before she even woke up, just to make her feel a little more comfortable.
A Mask of Joy
I spent every day rushing about, doing whatever I could. My mother depended entirely on me, so I had to be brave and shoulder everything. I did not want her to worry; I only wanted her to focus on recovering. Those days were truly bitter. I was just a child, and when I felt helpless, I often could not find anyone to assist me. But I could not give up, so I kept searching for help or finding ways to manage on my own.
Because I was so busy, I had almost no time for myself. Sometimes my mood would sink, but I could never let my mother see it. If she saw me sad, she would worry. So, whenever I felt overwhelmed, I had to adjust my emotions while I was still outside. By the time I stepped through our door, I had to have a smile on my face, or at the very least, a look of calm.
It was during one of those difficult times that I happened to see a bright red wildflower by the roadside that seemed to be smiling at me. It looked so radiant, like a woman wearing vibrant rouge, grinning broadly at me. When I saw that red flower, I found myself smiling back involuntarily. It was such a natural smile—I had not smiled like that in so long—and yet, it was just a flower. It was incredible that a simple flower could make me smile.
A Life Dedicated to Beauty
After that, whether I was walking to fetch water, going up the mountain to chop wood, or heading to the rice mill or the market, I would always look for wildflowers along the way. Sometimes, if I passed someone’s house, I would glance at the flowers in their garden. Even just a distant look at those flowers would make me feel better and bring me peace. Gradually, I fell in love with flowers.
My mother passed away when I was twelve, and from then on, I was all alone. After she left, my heart was lonely and desolate, with no one to keep me company. Once I found a job, I began buying flowers to grow at home. Some I bought, some I picked from the roadside; regardless of the type, if I could bring them home, I would plant them in our backyard.
I let those flowers keep me company, and I would often talk to them. Seeing them in full bloom would restore my peace of mind, and I no longer felt so isolated. Eventually, my love for flowers became an obsession, and I opened a flower shop. I knew many women who loved flowers just as much as I did—often daughters from wealthy families who would visit my shop to see what beautiful blooms they could take home to display in their vases.
From the Flower Realm to the Hells
My flower shop became increasingly famous. Because I cared for the flowers so deeply and constantly spoke to them, they always looked exceptionally fresh, as if they were alive and vibrant. They were particularly eye-catching and well-loved. Later, I often gave flowers away to others. Whenever I saw someone looking miserable, I would give them a flower or a bouquet, just so they could find a glimmer of happiness amidst their suffering.
Some flowers wilted quickly, so to preserve them, I would turn them into dried flowers before they faded, or press them to make bookmarks and decorations for various household items. I was truly obsessed with flowers. I felt that many people shared my love, so I planted more and more. Eventually, I had enough money to live comfortably, so I began planting flowers everywhere. I filled our entire village with different varieties, and then expanded to other villages and towns.
Everyone praised my actions because the flowers I planted brought joy to their hearts. Seeing them happy made me happy, and I never felt tired. To me, living meant being happy, and not just for oneself—everyone around you should also be happy. That is selfless happiness, free happiness, the happiness of great love.
Deliverance through the
Ever since I started planting those flowers, I was happy every day. That is all I did in this life—plant flowers so that everyone could appreciate their beauty and find joy. I lived until I was seventy-five. In my final three years, my body became very weak, and I often felt exhausted and powerless. Soon after, I passed away, ending my seventy-five-year life.
In truth, my spirit had long ago entered the 'flower space.' After I died, my spirit left my body and remained in that realm. In that space, I bloomed with a smile, and everyone who saw me would smile back. As long as they smiled, I felt my existence had value and meaning. I spent about fifty years in that flower space, inhabiting many different types of flowers. No matter the species, I always wore the same smile, always just as charming, never changing.
Later, I was fortunate enough to leave the flower space and was brought into the hells to serve as a prison guard. It took me quite a while to adapt to that change. In the hells, I was busy with my duties every day, but there were no smiles to be seen there. Even I could not smile, because so many spirits were wailing and suffering every day. Just hearing their voices made me feel so sad that I could not possibly smile.
Then, I was truly blessed—I began to hear Practitioner Su giving Dharma talks. When I heard those teachings, I actually smiled. I smiled while in the hells! Even I was surprised by this. The more I listened, the more Dharma-joy I felt. I began to introduce the Buddha’s teachings everywhere, hoping that more people would listen to the sutras and learn to chant Namo Amituofo, repent, and seek liberation.
I eventually prayed for my own deliverance, and to my surprise, my wish was granted. Today, under the guidance of Practitioner Su, I have truly arrived at the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss, along with fifty-nine other prison guards. We are so happy, our hearts are filled with such deep emotion, and we are eternally grateful.
