The Prime Minister’s Redemption: An Interview with Kou Zhun

This is a record of an interview with Kou Zhun, who sought Spiritual Deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Land of Dharma Nature. This account reflects upon his life approximately 1,000 years ago. Recorded by the chief writer, Fa Ning, on April 18, 2026.

Kou Zhun speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am Kou Zhun. In the Great Song Dynasty, this name was one that everyone heard with a mixture of love and hatred. I was like this in the imperial court, before the Emperor, and even in front of my own family. Everyone knew that deep down, I was a good man—a loyal official who loved his country and worked tirelessly for the people. I never dared to harbour any selfish motives; I was single-minded, unyielding, and upright, pouring my entire heart and soul into the affairs of the state. I desperately wanted the newly established Song Dynasty to have a strong foundation, for the people to live in peace and prosperity, and for the scourge of war to be kept at bay.

However, I must admit that my temper was far too rigid, and I offended many people along the way. When I spoke, I never gave anyone face, especially those sycophants and flatterers. I would often inadvertently leave them with no way to step down, causing them to turn red with embarrassment. Yet, I could not help myself; that was simply my nature. Even before the Emperor, I never hid my true thoughts. I always spoke my mind directly. Although everything I said was for the good of the country and the people, how much of it could the Emperor truly absorb?

The Burden of Power and the Price of Truth

I served under two emperors, Song Taizong and Song Zhenzong. They were, in my view, the founding wise monarchs of the Great Song. Looking back now, across the two or three hundred years of the Song Dynasty, those early emperors were indeed rulers whom everyone praised. I was born into such a glorious era, yet I ended up covered in scars, ultimately dying in a foreign land.

But I have no regrets. I walked through life with an open and honest heart. My only lingering attachments were to the people of that land, the path I had walked, and everything I had once possessed. Because of this, after I passed away, I drifted through the ghost realm. My spirit could not ascend. Although I had never committed any grave sins, I had grown accustomed to a life of luxury, and I carried the inherent arrogance and habits of a young nobleman. I never truly changed my ways.

A Life of Brilliance and Luxury

Haha, in my youth, I lived a truly magnificent life. My mother exhausted every effort to ensure I could study. She was a remarkable woman who fulfilled her duties to the end, all so that I could achieve success in the imperial examinations. I was indeed blessed with talent; I passed the examinations at nineteen. Emperor Taizong held me in high regard, and my career soared until I reached the position of Prime Minister.

To be a Prime Minister in the Song Dynasty was a position of immense prestige. The Emperor bestowed upon us fertile lands and fine horses—they were too numerous to count. This led to the development of a personality trait that everyone knew: I was rather extravagant. Despite my luxurious lifestyle, I never once engaged in corruption. I never took a single cent from the imperial treasury that did not belong to me. That was my bottom line, and it was the source of my integrity.

The Crisis at the Border

The moment for which I, Kou Zhun, am most remembered by history occurred when the nation faced a dire crisis. The Liao Dynasty sent an army of three hundred thousand, marching with great momentum toward us. They were only a river away. When I learned of this, the entire nation was in a panic, and no one could devise a strategy to counter such a formidable enemy. But I had a plan: I had to force the Emperor to take the field himself to quell this chaos.

The reigning monarch was Emperor Zhenzong. I strongly urged him to personally lead the army to settle the conflict. I argued that whether we fought or negotiated, if the Emperor himself appeared on the front lines, it would surely secure the Great Song. If he did not, the people of the Song would likely face a catastrophe, a tragedy of unimaginable suffering. I knelt and begged the Emperor, effectively leaving him with no path of retreat, forcing him onto the battlefield.

This was the boldest thing I ever did. There was nothing I would not do, no status I would not set aside, to achieve what was necessary. My personality was always direct, and my bones were truly unyielding. The Emperor was eventually moved by my conviction and decided to go. When our army advanced with unstoppable force and captured their leaders, the Liao troops were terrified to see the Song Emperor himself on the field. They immediately begged for peace.

The Price of Directness

Naturally, everyone felt this was a wonderful outcome. We did not need to fight, we did not lose many soldiers, and we spared the people from the wails of war. It was the best possible result for a young dynasty. Thus, we signed the Treaty of Shanyuan with the Liao. We paid them a large sum, and the Great Song enjoyed over a hundred years of peace. At the time, I was incredibly proud of this achievement.

People credited this success to me. Although I had my arrogance, I did not dare to claim all the glory. Nevertheless, I had committed a great taboo before the Emperor. I had become too powerful, and the many petty officials I had offended with my blunt words whispered against me in the Emperor's ear. While I did not lose my life, I was stripped of my position as Prime Minister. This caused me great pain at the time, for I had been so blunt, believing I had done everything for the best, only to be met with such an end. I felt a deep sense of injustice, but I soon calmed my heart and decided to serve the country in a different way. I have always possessed a naturally optimistic temperament.

The Exile to Leizhou

After that incident, I lost the Emperor's trust and was demoted step by step. By the time I was sixty, I was exiled to a desolate, savage land ten thousand miles away called Leizhou. It is an island south of Guangdong Province. I arrived in such a remote place with a few family members, transitioning from a life of extreme luxury to the life of an ordinary civilian—and a disgraced one at that. Although the Emperor allowed me to hold a minor official post with a small salary, it was a trivial position. The Emperor was far away, and I had no further connection to the court or the people of the Central Plains.

During those years in Leizhou, I lived a simple and happy life. When I wrote in my poems that those final years were the happiest of my life, I was not lying. Although I died in a foreign land, I lived those last few years with great joy. I no longer had the luxury of grand banquets with music and dance, nor the opportunity to debate in court or advise the Emperor, but I could stand with the local people in this savage land and accomplish many things. That left a profound and beautiful impression on my heart.

A Final Peace in the Sunset of Life

When I first arrived, I could not communicate with the locals. They spoke a distant dialect. Although it shared similarities with the Han language, it was quite different, and it took me a long time to figure out what they were trying to express. Furthermore, their standard of living was backward, medical care was severely lacking, and they did not seem to believe in medicine, relying instead on ancient superstitions and strange practices. After I arrived, I did my best to teach them, providing lesson after lesson to the local people. In agriculture and water management, I introduced advanced techniques from the Central Plains to Leizhou Island, improving their production conditions. In healthcare, I taught them to trust in medicine and abandon superstition.

These tasks brought me endless joy, as I implemented one beneficial project after another. But what brought me the most happiness was establishing schools. Throughout my life, I had often harboured the wish to promote education and teach the next generation, but while I was in office, I never had the leisure to do so.

I have believed in Confucianism my entire life, trusting in the values of filial piety, fraternal love, loyalty, trustworthiness, propriety, righteousness, integrity, and shame. I was determined to spread these excellent cultural values in Leizhou. I built schools and taught the children myself, promoting all the noble culture, traditional stories, and classics I could recall.

Although my life was full of ups and downs, having such a peaceful and serene time in my later years, and being able to help the local people, brought me great comfort. The peace and stability in my heart were something I had never experienced during the turbulence of my earlier life. I am deeply grateful for the love the people there showed me. Looking back on those days, it was truly a beautiful and joyful experience.

In the end, I passed away after a minor illness, which could be considered a peaceful departure. I had only felt a slight malaise, lying in bed feeling weak, thinking I would recover after a short rest. I never expected the illness to drag on, leaving me bedridden for quite some time. Soon after, when my breath ceased, I left the human world.

At that moment, my spirit seemed to slowly leave my body, with nowhere to go, becoming a wandering ghost. Because I had so many attachments in life—to the nation, to my glorious past, and to all the good and bad I had experienced—even though I had lived a clear life and done many good deeds for the country and the people, my spirit remained as it was, drifting in this space."

Fortunately, my spirit remained clear and bright, allowing me to perceive the various events unfolding across the nation and the world. From Leizhou to every corner of China, I could travel freely. Under my very eyes, the Song Dynasty passed through several hundred years of history in what felt like a blink of an eye, and watching it unfold step by step was truly a bitter experience for me. After my passing, the Song Dynasty did indeed enjoy a period of brilliance; under the prosperous reign of Emperor Renzong, everyone lived through peaceful and harmonious times. However, this half-century of tranquility ended all too quickly. The later Song Dynasty became a target for the nomadic tribes of the north, with the Jin and Mongol armies becoming the greatest adversaries of the Northern and Southern Song courts, gradually leading the dynasty toward its eventual collapse.

A Witness to the Cycles of History

I have always been a person of deep emotion. Witnessing the changes over these hundreds of years within this space, my heart fluctuated between joy and sorrow. As a being in the ghost realm, I lived in a world of darkness, yet because I had lived a life of integrity and performed many good deeds while alive, the clarity of my spirit allowed me to occasionally help the people by spreading positive convictions. Whenever I encountered good officials who were truly working for the country and the people, I could use my spiritual presence to offer them subtle guidance and inspiration, helping them understand which path to take next or how to stand against their enemies. Although I was not always successful, at the very least, through my humble efforts, I could improve the magnetic field in certain spaces, allowing people to find a measure of peace and meditative concentration.

There was not much else I could do; a ghost, after all, remains a lonely soul. I wandered through this space for a full thousand years. Throughout this long, arduous stretch of time, I witnessed eras of prosperity as well as the heartlessness of the battlefield. My heart was deeply moved, and I came to understand that human life is truly a mixture of good and evil. One can exhaust all efforts to perform many good deeds, or one can destroy a nation out of pure selfishness. The emotions in my heart were beyond words, yet from beginning to end, I, Kou Zhun, never had the opportunity to truly encounter Buddhist education. Looking back now, that is a matter of great regret.

The Light of Deliverance

Today, I have arrived at the Western Land of Dharma Nature. This was only possible because Practitioner Su, carrying the twelve rays of Buddha-light from Namo Amituofo and manifesting in countless forms, was conducting a grand Chao Du to open up space across China. It was then that my spirit was finally able to depart from that space and head toward the light. This light appeared very suddenly; I was startled, for I had never imagined such a radiance existed in the world—it was quite different from the sunlight of the living. Although I had not felt the sun for nearly a thousand years, I could still perceive that this light was exceptionally pure and filled with Goodness.

Upon entering the light and arriving at the Western Land of Dharma Nature, I began my own spiritual life of practice. In the Western Land of Dharma Nature, I listened to the sutras and heard the Dharma with great sincerity. To hear the Dharma under the seat of Namo Amituofo and Practitioner Su was a source of immense joy. It was then that my mind suddenly opened, and I learned of many truths of the universe that I had never known before. Throughout my life as a Prime Minister of the Northern Song, I served the country and the people, but because I lacked true Buddhist education, I did not understand the principles of karmic conditions and the causes and effects, nor did I know what potential human life could truly achieve. It turns out that one can find their original nature and know exactly where they are going after death, rather than just drifting along with the currents of fate.

A Heart Transformed by Wisdom

These precious lessons were taught one after another in the Western Land of Dharma Nature. I listened with tears streaming down my face, deeply moved and profoundly grateful for the magnificent opportunity that Namo Amituofo is currently residing on Earth. I had never once thought that I would have the day to study the Buddha’s teachings. Yet, the Wisdom of the Buddha’s teachings and the compassion of the Buddha have melted my rigid heart. My heart is no longer filled only with good and evil, black and white; I am no longer that upright, unyielding Kou Zhun who only knew how to be a headache to others. At this moment, my heart is incredibly soft; there are no grievances, no afflictions. In my eyes, everything is good, and everyone is a good person. This is the precious crystallization of Wisdom that Practitioner Su has taught us.

Just as when I was an official in the court, I always loved to pick out the faults of other officials—though I spoke the truth, I inevitably hurt many people. For this, I feel deep repenting and recognize my own shortcomings. Only upon arriving at the Western Land of Dharma Nature did I learn what it means to look at everything with a positive perspective, to truly let go of all the sensations of this body, and to be single-minded, existing only so that all beings may attain liberation. To be single-minded is to chant the name of Namo Amituofo to the very end. Only by being like Practitioner Su can one truly not grow old, not get sick, and ensure the spirit does not die.

A Message for the World

In the Western Land of Dharma Nature, I have seen many famous historical figures. China possesses a long-standing culture that has stood firm for five thousand years, largely because, no matter how much war and suffering people have endured, there remains a lamp of Goodness that lights up the hearts of the Chinese people.

Although the Buddha’s teachings have been propagated here for over a thousand years and are currently in a state of decline, making it difficult to find true Buddhist education standing in the world within mainland China, I still urge people not to worry or lose heart. Since the Buddha’s teachings have been able to survive in China for a millennium, there must surely be an opportunity for a turnaround. People will gradually come to understand that this profound technology is the precious education that can truly help them escape the suffering of the cycle of rebirth and move toward the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss.

I, Kou Zhun, am deeply grateful for Buddhist education. I hope it can bring different inspirations to the people of China at this time, expanding their mind-capacity to accept all things and teaching them to let go of the self to achieve the liberation of all beings. This is an education that moves me deeply. I truly regret that I did not encounter the Buddha’s teachings sooner; if I had started my practice earlier, perhaps my destiny would have been different. I could have served the country and the people, preserved my reputation, and at the very least, remained in the world to do even more good deeds. But everything is an arrangement of fate, and I am very grateful for the karmic conditions that allowed me to reach Leizhou to spend my later years, helping the local people move toward a more enlightened society. Whether serving as an official in the court or as a local magistrate, I spent those years with a heart full of gratitude.

If I had been able to study the Buddha’s teachings back then, it would have been even better; the resentment, unfairness, and complaints in my heart could have been eliminated. Perhaps I would have had the opportunity, like the people at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre, to study the Buddha’s teachings with a single heart, achieving my own liberation while also helping many other beings.

Alas, enough of that; thinking too much is of no use. Now is the time to focus on chanting Namo Amituofo and to diligently correct the habits of the world while here in the Western Land of Dharma Nature. This is the only thing that is truly helpful to the people and to all beings. The Buddhist education of Namo Amituofo is truly magnificent.

Disciple Kou Zhun, I now bow my head before the Buddha, hoping that the Buddha will accept me as your disciple. I am grateful for the compassion of Namo Amituofo, and I am grateful for the compassion of Practitioner Su.

Namo Amituofo.

Kou Zhun