This is a record of an interview with Wang Zi'an, 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 service in the underworld. Recorded by the chief writer, Shi Fa, on July 27, 2025.
Prison Guard Wang Zi'an speaks:
". I have countless words that have been stuck in my heart for lifetimes. This, in fact, became the greatest reason I remained stagnant, and it was the very source of the suffering I endured in the cycle of reincarnations.
I am so incredibly grateful that I have finally been able to attain liberation. Today, I am able to be reborn in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. I am deeply grateful to Namo Amituofo, and I am deeply grateful to Practitioner Su. On behalf of all the prison guards, I, Wang Zi'an, prostrate myself to express my gratitude for the Buddha's grace and the grace of Practitioner Su. Namo Amituofo."
A Life of Calculated Silence
"I was once a minor official in the imperial court. From a young age, I was clever but quiet. I could see through the complexities of human affairs and understood the broader situation clearly, yet I always felt that words could not be spoken lightly. I believed that if I said the wrong thing, it could invite disaster, hurt others, or ruin a situation entirely.
Because of this, I would always write several drafts before speaking. I would write them, tear them up, and then hide the scraps. My sleeves, the space under my desk, and the area by my bedside were all filled with suggestions and advice that I had written but never dared to submit. It was not that I did not understand the situation; it was that I understood it 'too well.'
I was afraid of hurting , afraid of disrupting the rules, and even more afraid of being accused of seeking credit or being criticised for being reckless. I believed that the hardest thing in this world was not understanding the truth, but having the courage to speak it."
The Cost of Inaction
"I saw the injustice in the tax system and witnessed how the civilians suffered beyond measure, yet I only silently wrote a letter to myself, thinking, 'I will wait until things are more stable, more precise, and until I am more certain...'
But during those days when I was 'just waiting,' the bitter winter arrived. An entire mountain village starved to death—seven households perished because of the imbalance in grain collection. When of the old village head was carried into the capital to seek justice, I was trembling in my office. Because that very memorial that could have saved him was right there in my chest... yet I had not even signed it.
I was terrified of conflict, controversy, and consequences, yet I never once thought that my silence itself was a catastrophe. In the year I passed away, I sat alone in my study, looking at those letters that were never delivered. They had turned yellow, the edges were curled, and they were covered in mould. I held my brush for a long time, and finally, I wrote the only last words of my life: 'Fear of being wrong became my greatest mistake.'"
The Wall of Regret
"After I died, I fell into the hells. I entered a desolate city and transformed into an ancient wall. I could see everything and hear everything clearly, yet I could not utter a single word. Through the wind and the rain, as the world changed, I watched day after day as all the same mistakes happened again, and I... I could only remain silent.
Beneath the wall, a youth would be causing trouble, and though others knew it was wrong, no one dared to speak. In front of the wall, soldiers would misjudge a case and send an innocent person to prison. Someone would want to speak up, but an elder would pull them back, saying, 'Don't get involved, don't cause trouble.' That familiar hesitation and silence, just like my former self, played out over and over again.
My heart burned like fire, but I could not even crack the surface of the wall. Until one day, a monk passed by with his little novices. He stood before me and said, 'This city wall, it saw the problems long ago, but it never dared to speak.' A little novice asked him, 'Master, what should we do then?' He smiled and replied, 'That is why we must learn to open our mouths; otherwise, we can only be like this wall, watching mistakes be passed down from generation to generation.' Before he turned to leave, he tapped one of my corners. At that moment, my wall actually cracked, as if, after being silent for too long, I had finally cried out."
A New Vow to Speak
"I crumbled quietly in the wind and finally escaped the confinement of that life. In my next reincarnation, I became a storyteller who travelled everywhere. I was no longer a high official, and I was no longer afraid of saying the wrong thing. I told stories that went straight to the heart. Some said I was meddlesome, others praised me for being righteous, but I was no longer afraid of either.
Once, in a marketplace, I loudly pointed out a thug who was extorting an elderly person. The crowd was silent, but I shouted, 'Whoever dares to touch him must first get past me!' I was punched three times that day, but I saved a life. One year, I travelled to the borderlands and heard an eminent monk giving a teaching in a temple. I sat in the last row and heard him say, 'To have words but not speak them is due to a greed for reputation; if speaking can stop others from doing evil, it is the best form of Generosity.' I broke down in tears on the spot.
These words seemed to answer the longings of my soul across many lifetimes. I walked up to the mountain gate, prostrated before the Buddha, and whispered my vow: 'May every word I speak from now on be able to stop evil and guide others toward Goodness. I will no longer be slick for my own sake; I will only open my mouth for the sake of all beings.'"
The Call of the Underworld
"After I died, I arrived in the hells. The King of Hell looked at me and said, 'What you have cultivated over three lifetimes is not Wisdom, but regret and vows. Are you willing to stay here, tell stories in the hells, and save the souls who have not yet awakened?' I said, 'I am willing.' From then on, I sat by the Bridge of Helplessness, telling stories to the countless souls who had just died and the consciousnesses that had just left the human world. I spoke of the price of greed, hatred, and delusion, the evil consequences of silence, and the transformation that comes from the power of vows.
Some souls cried, some laughed, and some cursed me for being a busybody. I did not care. I knew that if even one or two people listened, it would be worth it. Until one day, a golden light shone into the hells. It was the sound of Practitioner Su giving talks. The moment he opened his mouth, I knew—this was not a human story; this was the language of the Buddha. I could not speak that day; I only knelt behind the hall of the King of Hell, and my tears would not stop.
I finally understood how selfish I had been, trying to protect myself instead of truly speaking the truth. I regret my past and have vowed to change my ways. I also vow to practise diligently and embark on the true path of liberation. I am so grateful that today I can be reborn in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss. On behalf of all the prison guards and all sentient beings with karmic affinity, I, Wang Zi'an, prostrate myself to express my gratitude for the Buddha's grace and the grace of Practitioner Su. Namo Amituofo."
