Introduction

W

hen we think of adventure films like Indiana Jones or Tomb Raider, we picture heart-pounding action, ancient mysteries, and daring escapes. The thrill of exploring long-lost civilizations has captivated audiences worldwide. But in China, the allure of ancient tombs isn’t just about adventure—it’s about crossing the boundary between the living and the dead, a theme deeply embedded in Chinese folklore and mythology. While supernatural tales have existed in China for centuries, it was Ghost Blows Out the Light (鬼吹灯, Gui Chui Deng) that opened the door to modern Chinese horror, bringing with it a revival of interest in ancient beliefs, superstitions, and ghostly encounters. Since its publication, a wave of novels, games, and comics has flourished, marking the rise of Chinese horror in popular culture.

Lighting Candles, Awakening the Dead

“A person lights a candle, a ghost blows it out; when the rooster crows or the candle is out, the treasure remains untouched.” This ancient saying might evoke memories of the Basilisk from Harry Potter, which feared the crowing of a rooster. In a similar vein, deep underground and facing mysterious dangers, this proverb serves as a crucial survival rule for tomb raiders in China. The phrase comes from the traditions of the Gold-Touching Captain, tomb raiders who carefully followed specific rituals when plundering graves. According to custom, a candle was lit in the tomb’s southeastern corner before they began looting, where the most valuable treasures were often found on the bodies of the deceased—pearls in their mouths, jade in their hands, and even jewels placed in orifices.

If the candle flickered out, it was a warning that spirits were present, and the raiders were to return the treasures, bow respectfully, and leave the tomb. The belief was that some spirits, bound by their attachment to wealth, refused to reincarnate, guarding their treasures for centuries. Scientifically, of course, the candle going out could be attributed to a lack of oxygen in the tomb, and the rooster’s crow simply signaled daylight—hardly the ideal time to rob graves!

The Ancient Profession of Tomb Raiders

The Gold-Touching Captain were originally military officers, dating back to the Three Kingdoms period (220-280 CE) when the warlord Cao Cao authorized them to fund his campaigns by raiding tombs. Tomb raiding, however, is a practice as old as Chinese civilization itself. Evidence of grave robbing can be traced to the Neolithic era, and one of the earliest recorded instances being the plundering of the tomb of Shang Dynasty's first king, over 3,600 years ago.

The rampant tomb-raiding in Chinese history is closely tied to the traditional practice of extravagant burials, which dating back to the Xia and Shang dynasties (2070-1050 BCE), and reaching its peak during the Qin and Han periods (221 BCE–220 CE). For example, in the Han Dynasty, it was customary for the emperor, one year after ascending the throne, to allocate one-third of the nation's tribute to build his imperial tomb. The practice of lavish burials is rooted in traditional Chinese ideas of ritual propriety and is closely connected to the ancient belief in the immortality of the soul.

The Annals of Lü Buwei ¹ notes that

国弥大，家弥富，葬弥厚。含珠鳞施，夫 玩好货宝，钟鼎壶滥，舆马衣被戈剑，不 可胜其数。诸养生之具，无不从者。题凑 之室，棺椁数袭，积石积炭，以环其外。 奸人闻之，传以相告。上虽以严威重罪禁 之，犹不可止。 The greater the nation, the wealthier the families, the more extravagant the burials. Pearls are placed in the mouth of the deceased, and countless precious goods such as jewelry, bronze vessels, chariots, horses, clothing, and weapons are buried with them. All items used in life follow the deceased into the grave. The burial chambers are adorned with layers of coffins, surrounded by piles of stones and charcoal. Yet, when evil people hear of this, they pass on the information to each other. Although the authorities impose severe punishments with strict prohibitions, the practice cannot be stopped.

^{1. Lü, Buwei. Lüshi Chunqiu 吕氏春秋 [Annals of Lü Buwei], 239 BCE. Taiji Library. Accessed September 18, 2024. https://www.8bei8.com/book/lvshichunqiu_47.html.}

The treasures buried within ancient tombs have long attracted tomb raiders in droves, but the owners of these tombs were no fools. Aware that their final resting places would become targets, they hired skilled craftsmen and designers to fortify their tombs with elaborate defenses. Poisonous snakes, scorpions, and bees, toxic gases, deadly arrows, giant stones, and even mythical beasts—these were just some of the traps laid to protect their graves. Layers of locks, intricate puzzles, and lethal surprises turned tomb raiding into a battle of wits between the living and the dead, spanning across time and life itself. These high-stakes confrontations have given rise to countless stories and legends, leaving a rich legacy for future generations of artistic and literary creations.

Reviving the Genre: Ghost Blows Out the Light

For centuries, tomb raiders and their superstitions were whispered about, but it was Tian Xia Ba Chang's novel series Ghost Blows Out the Light that brought this ancient tradition back into the spotlight. By weaving together folklore, adventure, and horror, the novel captivated modern readers and paved the way for an entire genre of Chinese supernatural thrillers. Today, the legend of the Gold-Touching Captain continues to inspire novels, games, comics, and films, highlighting an enduring fascination with the mysteries of connecting life and death.

First serialized on Tianya Forum in 2006, the series spans eight volumes. The initial four books follow three protagonists cursed in the Lost City of Jingjue as they journey across China's ancient tombs, seeking a way to break the curse. The latter half focuses on their quest to collect mystical relics to destroy the undead corpse deity, culminating in their discovery of the elusive Underground Immortal Village. But more than just an exciting tale, Ghost Blows Out the Light sets the groundwork for the tomb-raiding and supernatural genres that followed.

Drawing inspiration from the ghost stories of the Wei, Jin, and Northern-Southern Dynasties (420–589 CE), the novel goes beyond its abundance of imaginative and curiosity-piquing descriptions, as well as the engaging, fast-paced narrative typical of web literature. It delves into China's traditional culture, reimagining elements of mythology, folklore, Taoist practices, and ancient alchemy. Rich with references to yin-yang, the five elements, ghost exorcism, and other Taoist concepts, Tian Xia masterfully blends fantasy with historical and cultural themes, making ancient tombs and shamanic traditions accessible to modern readers.

Tian Xia himself admits that much of the tomb-raiding lore and terminology in the series is a mix of hearsay and imagination. He has been weaving together folklore and his own wild ideas, with even the central concept of "ghost blowing out the light" and the jargon used by tomb raiders being his own creations. It’s precisely this blend of history and daring creativity that made Ghost Blows Out the Light a sensation. From ancient graves and imperial mausoleums to supernatural creatures and wandering spirits, from fox spirits and mystical snakes to mountain spirits resembling ginseng roots, the series offers a world that is at once terrifying, strange, and tantalizingly close to believable.

Blending Ancient Wisdom and Folklore

Here are some fascinating examples of how Tian Xia draws inspiration from Chinese classics and folklore in his works. Take luopan (罗盘, compass), for instance. It’s a tool commonly used in feng shui to detect energy patterns. This instrument consists of a central magnetic needle surrounded by a series of concentric circles, each representing a different level of cosmic understanding according to ancient Chinese philosophy. The protagonist Hu Ba Yi frequently uses a luopan, reciting an incantation from the fictional scripture "Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Feng Shui Secret Technique": "Search for the dragon, check the wrapped hills; each layer is a barrier. If there are eight dangerous passes, it forms the shape of yin-yang and the Eight Trigrams."

(Reynolds, Leo. "Chinese Compass." Time and Tide, Museum of Great Yarmouth Life, Great Yarmouth, Norfolk, England, UK. Flickr, https://flic.kr/p/4bKz6p. Accessed 17 September 2024.)

This incantation is actually a creative adaptation of a passage from the Dragon-Shaking Classic (撼龙经, Han Long Jing), a seminal work in traditional feng shui. The original text reads: "Search for the dragon, check the wrapped hills; each layer is a barrier. If there are a thousand locks on the gate, there’s a prince or marquis buried here." This classic is considered the most authoritative text on dragon vein feng shui and has been hailed as the pinnacle of ancient Chinese surveying. Its author, Yang Yunsong (834-900 CE), served as the Imperial Geomancer during the reign of Emperor Xizong of Tang. He was famous for his ability to use geomantic techniques to help the poor improve their fortunes, earning him the nickname "Poverty Relief Master."

Tian Xia not only obtains insights from ancient Chinese classics but also incorporates diverse regional folklore and legends into his work. This blend of sources adds depth and authenticity to his fictional world. One particularly interesting aspect he explores is the spiritual practices of tomb raiders. Given the secretive and psychologically demanding nature of their work, which involves constant interaction with burial sites and the deceased, tomb raiders often seek spiritual comfort and protection. In northern China, particularly in regions like Henan, Hebei, and Beijing, tomb raiders traditionally worship entities known as "Great Immortal Lords."

These "Great Immortal Lords" are not typical deities worshiped by the general population. Instead, they are specific animals believed to possess spiritual significance. The choice of animal varies depending on geographical location and local beliefs. In the tradition Tian Xia draws upon, there are five primary "Great Immortal Lords," each represented by a different animal: the Fox, Weasel, Hedgehog, Snake, and Rat. Each of these animal spirits is believed to offer unique forms of protection and guidance to tomb raiders in their perilous profession.

Fox Spirit: Respectfully called "Hu San Ye" (Lord Hu Third), the fox is revered for its cunning and ability to remain undetected. Tomb raiders, operating in secrecy, pray to the fox spirit for stealth and cleverness in their illicit activities.

Yellow Weasel: Known as "Huang San Ye" (Lord Yellow Third), the weasel is often found near tombs. Working in the oppressive atmosphere of tombs, these robbers often become mentally ill, mistakenly believing it to be the work of the weasel spirit. Offering respect to "Lord Yellow Third" is a way to protect oneself from such misfortunes.

White Hedgehog: Referred to as "Bai Lao Tai Tai" (Old Lady White), the hedgehog's quills are likened to acupuncture needles, symbolizing health and safety. Tomb raiders seek its protection against the physical dangers of their work, such as toxic gasses and bacteria in sealed tombs.

Snake Spirit: Called "Liu Qi Ye" (Lord Willow Seventh), snakes are sometimes considered "small dragons" in folklore. Their presence in tombs is seen as auspicious, linked to the concept of dragon veins in feng shui. Alternatively, tomb raiders worship snakes to avoid being harmed by them during their expeditions.

(Zhu Zhen 朱震. “蟒仙 (Immortal Python).” 2019. Tieba Baidu, https://tieba.baidu.com/p/6327956217. Accessed 17 September 2024.)

Rat Spirit: Known as "Hui Ba Ye" (Lord Grey Eighth), rats are seen as kindred spirits to tomb raiders. Both are nocturnal, skilled at burrowing, and considered "underground workers." In the raiders' belief system, the rat is a god of wealth, assisting in finding valuable treasures.

The use of respectful titles and homophones for these animal spirits (e.g., "Hu" for fox, which sounds like a surname) demonstrates the deeprooted Chinese cultural practice of showing reverence through indirect naming. This blend of supernatural belief and the harsh realities of tomb raiding creates a unique atmosphere where superstition and necessity blur, adding tension and mystique to the stories. It's a testament to how contemporary fiction can serve as a vehicle for exploring traditional cultural elements while crafting compelling narratives.

Building the Tomb-Raiding Universe

Tian Xia's Ghost Blows Out the Light series pioneered the tomb-raiding genre in Chinese web novels by creating a rich and intricate world of underground treasure hunting. This universe is populated with various factions, specialized terminology, and unique tools, all of which contribute to a mingling of historical lore, supernatural elements, and imagination.

For example, the story introduces specific jargon unique to the world of tomb raiding. Terms like "Dao Dou" (倒斗), which literally means "overturning the dip per," refer to the act of tomb raiding itself, inspired by the reverse pyramidlike shape of ancient tombs. "Zong Zi" (粽子) is a colloquial term for corpses, drawing a comparison to wrapped rice dumplings. Variants include "Big Zong Zi" (powerful zombies), "Old Zong Zi" (dangerous, reanimating zombies), "Dry Zong Zi" (skeletal remains), and "Meaty Zong Zi" (corpses laden with treasures). The series also introduces tools like the Luo Yang Shovel, a specialized instrument used to analyze soil composition, allowing raiders to detect the presence and age of tombs without extensive excavation.

Crucially, Tian Xia establishes four main factions of tomb raiders, each with distinct specialties and characteristics, creating a comprehensive system that serves as the foundation for the genre.

The Mo Jin (Gold-Touching Captain) Faction: Known for their expertise in locating tombs, they excel at locating tombs using feng shui and astronomical calculations. They hold a deep respect for traditional tomb raiding rules passed down through generations, always ensuring they leave a way out and never push their luck too far.

The Ban Shan (Mountain-Moving Taoist) Faction: Masters of traps and mechanisms, they are skilled in dismantling complex tomb defenses. Often disguised as Taoist priests, they're less concerned with traditional ethics and more focused on using brute force when necessary.

The Xie Ling (Unloading-Ridge Hercules) Faction: Straddling the line between bandits and tomb raiders, they're known for their immense strength and keen sense of smell. They avoid spicy foods and alcohol to maintain their olfactory abilities and are skilled in traditional martial arts.

The Fa Qiu (Hill-Opening General) Faction: Similar to the Gold-Touching faction but with a greater emphasis on teamwork. They often disguise themselves as pawnbrokers or antique dealers and are the only faction willing to cooperate with official authorities.

By creating this detailed world of tomb raiding, complete with its own history, factions, terminology, and tools, Tian Xia has not only crafted an engaging narrative but also established a new subgenre in Chinese popular literature. This rich backdrop allows for exploration of themes like the tension between preservation and plunder, the allure of ancient mysteries, and the dangers of disturbing the past. It's a framework allows later works to branch out and variously evolve.

The Lost Tomb: Turning Fiction into a Cultural Phenomenon

While the novel Ghost Blows Out the Light carved out a niche in Chinese horror and supernatural fiction, its rich references to ancient texts and its Ming-Qing vernacular writing style make it a little daunting for readers to go wild. It wasn’t until The Lost Tomb (盗墓笔记, Dao Mu Bi Ji) emerged that the tomb-raiding genre truly captured the mainstream cultural market.

Building upon the world established by Tian Xia, The Lost Tomb, serialized online between 2007 and 2011, reached extraordinary commercial success, with over 20 million copies of the print version sold. It spawned a plethora of spin-offs, including comics, games, radio dramas, and TV series, igniting a cultural phenomenon where fiction crossed into the real world. For instance, the "Ten-Year Promise" at Changbai Mountain in Northeast China, inspired by the protagonist Zhang Qi Ling’s departure into the Bronze Gate on August 17, 2005, became a fan pilgrimage. Believing that August 17 would mark Zhang’s return, thousands of fans and tourists flocked to Changbai Mountain on that date in 2015, turning the already busy tourist season into a full-blown spectacle. Adding to the frenzy, the author released a new final chapter on Weibo at midnight, where the main characters reunited at Changbai Mountain, further heightening the sense that the characters exist alongside the readers.

Comparatively, Ghost Blows Out the Light leans towards a more logical structure. Even when dealing with supernatural phenomena, it strives to explain events using folklore and modern science, carefully avoiding crossover between fiction and reality. On the other hand, The Lost Tomb delivers a more cinematic "spectacle effect." From the mysterious tomb chambers to underwater adventures, from the mimicking Cockscomb Snake to the symbiotic centipede, and from the terrifying bronze tree to the mythical Candle Dragon, the novel creates a fantastical world far removed from everyday life. This allows readers to escape their mundane routines, offering temporary relief and entertainment. Despite - or perhaps because of - its more exaggerated and unrealistic narrative, The Lost Tomb garnered an unprecedented level of reader devotion, demonstrating the powerful allure of fusing fantasy with reality in modern Chinese literature.

Unearthing a Treasure Trove: The Rise of Chinese Horror Fiction

As I mentioned earlier, Ghost Blows Out the Light cracked open a rich vein in Chinese horror fiction, bringing the genre to the forefront. Following in its wake, The Lost Tomb further proved the immense popularity of supernatural and tomb-raiding stories, leading to a flood of creative works exploring every possible angle of the theme. Within the tomb-raiding genre alone, we’ve seen the emergence of concepts like grave-cloth artisans, corpse shrouds, or river coffins. Beyond tombs, other elements of traditional Chinese folklore have also found their way into popular culture.

For instance, tomb-raiding naturally brings to mind the ancient relics buried within. Ma Bo Yong’s Mystery of Antiques dives into this world, highlighting the saying, "Appraising antiques is easy, appraising people is hard." Each artifact carries a historical and cultural legacy, while each forgery is a maze of cunning deceptions and unfathomable traps. In this story, the protagonist, Xu Yuan, armed with a half-complete family manuscript on antique appraisal, a collection of fragmented photos, and two suspicious partners, meticulously unravels the mysteries of relics, exposing the true enemies hidden within forgeries.

Besides tomb raiders, the communication between life and death is often navigated by Taoist practitioners, who are revered as masters of the unseen realm. Stories like Part-Time Half-Immortal, The Last Taoist, and The Years I Worked as a Yin-Yang Master draw deeply from Chinese folk tales and ancient customs, weaving a mix of reality and illusion that resonates with readers' personal experiences. For example, almost every Chinese child has likely seen paper effigies at funerals and heard from their grandparents that these figures must not have eyes drawn on them. Why? Many are also told that if incense sticks for deities burn out prematurely, you need to burn new ones. Why? Or that if you find yourself wandering in circles down an alley without finding a way out, cursing loudly and showing no fear will break the spell. Why? These shared cultural memories form the foundation for new adventures in these novels, which are based on indigenous Chinese perspectives on life and death. They depict rituals such as forming hand seals to connect with ancestral masters and drive away evil, calculating auspicious times and locations for mining or construction, casting moon blocks to seek the will of ancestors, inviting spirits or deities to possess a body to solve problems, and even the darker practice of raising ghost children for personal gain, which inevitably leads to tragic consequences. Through these narratives, readers recall their childhood confusions, feeling the company of the dead in their daily life.

In addition to Taoism, animal totem worship is another ingrained belief in China. He Ma's Tibetan Code masterfully weaves together Tibetan Buddhism, the ferocious Tibetan Mastiff, mysterious local legends, and the breathtaking beauty of the Tibetan plateau. What could be more fearsome than a Tibetan Mastiff? Does a secret passage to the sacred land of Shangri-La lie hidden beneath the Potala Palace? Through the pages of Tibetan Code, readers embark on a journey through the shrouded mysteries of Tibetan history, the vast snowy landscapes, and the mythical realms of the region.

Beyond drawing from classical Chinese traditions, a new trend is emerging where East meets West in the storytelling styles. The Eerie Immortal merges Lovecraftian horror with ancient Chinese customs, drawing on thriller, time travel, suspense, and mystery to present a world of cultivation. The protagonist, Li Huo Wang, is unhinged from the very start, frequently slipping into hallucinations where he believes he’s living in a modern mental institution, complete with bankrupt parents desperate to cure him and a first love waiting for his recovery. Li’s consciousness jumps between ancient and modern realities, as if he has two bodies but can only perceive one at a time. In modern world, electroshock therapy is used to treat illness, while in the cultivation world, his body is tortured by unknown forces. Escaping from a fish's belly in the cultivation world corresponds to fighting with guards in the modern hospital. The novel constantly showcases the protagonist's self-doubt and suspicion through this dual narrative. The Chinese classical philosophical concept of "Zhuang Zi's butterfly dream" and the modern psychological concept of "multiple personalities" together plunge the protagonist into extreme confusion and emotional breakdown.

(Wu Sheng Na Han, 无声呐喊. "李火旺 (Li Huo Wang)." Weibo, https://weibo.com/6467894427/MEmrvcocq. Accessed 25 September 2024.)

(Yingmeiziwww, 沉迷荷包蛋的莺莺莺. "道诡异仙同人 (The Eerie Immortal Fan Art)." Lofter, https://yingmeiziwww.lofter.com/post/1f05959c_2b71fc123. Accessed 25 September 2024.)

To Be Explored . . .

Chinese horror-themed web novels, along with popular cultural products like games and comics, have become powerful platforms for public expression and collective resonance. These works often actively discuss complex value systems and worldviews. Traditionally, tomb raiding was viewed as a severe transgression—plundering the dead's property and causing irreparable harm to historical relics. It also reflected deeply ingrained feudal superstitions that have long oppressed individuals, especially women. In contrast, modern stories tend to reframe tomb exploration as a collaborative effort with official archaeological institutions, ensuring that discoveries are properly preserved for historical and cultural purposes. Alternatively, explorers in these narratives may gather the information they need for their next adventure and then quietly depart, leaving the graves undisturbed and allowing the dead to rest in peace, their presence remaining unknown to the living world.

Meanwhile, these narratives explicitly criticize harmful remnants of feudal ideologies. The protagonists often explain the origins of traditional customs, uncovering how they’ve been misinterpreted over time. For instance, while it’s commonly believed that pregnant women or those menstruating are prohibited from attending religious rituals or visiting ancestral graves, the original guidelines were more nuanced. In ancient times, it was thought that women’s bodies, especially during pregnancy or menstruation, were closer to the yin energy, making them more sensitive to spirits. As a result, the caution was for their protection, suggesting that they could still participate in rituals with the proper care from family members and ritual practitioners. Additionally, the recommendation for pregnant or menstruating women to avoid visiting graves was primarily practical, as these visits often involved long, difficult journeys up hills, which could be physically taxing. Modern stories are now re-examining these social norms and encouraging a reconsideration of outdated practices.

Moreover, the genre is also increasingly embracing themes of diverse romantic relationships. I intentionally avoid using the term "LGBTQ+" here because it is a modern concept that doesn't neatly align with ancient Chinese philosophies. Take Taoist ideas, for example: I previously mentioned that women are often seen as closer to yin, but not equated with yin itself. This is because yin and yang are not rigidly divided by gender. Elements in nature tend to lean towards yin or yang, and when we talk about the balance between them, it refers to adjustments between individuals who possess more yin or more yang energy. It's not about fixed, absolute qualities—but a comparative and fluid concept. Modern stories are tracing back to such historical roots of Chinese social norms, advocating for diverse types of relationships. This includes not only love beyond traditional male and female roles but also questions of who bears the responsibility for childbirth and contraception. The ancient Taoist principle of "道法 自然" (Dao patterns itself on what is natural) provides writers with great freedom and flexibility to explore and support new possibilities in relationships and social roles.

While some of these creations may follow formulaic patterns, I am optimistic that the rich tapestry of Chinese horror will continue to yield valuable insights and treasures for the future, offering readers a unique brand of thrills that differ from the anxieties of modern society. As one netizen humorously remarked, “If you send me a bomb, I’d just report it to the police; but if I found an embroidered shoe at my doorstep one morning, I might be so terrified that I’d rather die than wait for its owner.”

Works Introduced

    Cui, Zou Zhao 崔走召. Guǐ jiào hún zhī yīnyáng xiānshēng 鬼叫魂之阴阳先生 [The Years I Worked as a Yin-Yang Master]. Shanghai: Wenhui Publishing House, 2011.
    He, Ma 何马. Zàngdì mìmǎ zhēncángbǎn 藏地密 码 [The Tibetan Code (10 Volumes)]. Chongqing: Chongqing Publishing House, 2012.
    Hu Wei de Bi 狐尾的笔. Huǒwàng 火旺 [The Eerie Immortal]. Guangzhou: Huacheng Publishing House, 2024.
    La Mianhuatang de Tuzi 拉棉花糖的兔子 and Xiao Heibao 小黑豹. Fēizhíyè bàn xiān 非職 業半仙 [Part-Time Half-Immortal]. New Taipei City: Pingxin Publishing, 2019.
    Ma, Boyong 马伯庸. Gǔdǒng jú zhōng jú dà quánjí 古董局中局 [Mystery of Antiques (4 Volumes)]. Beijing: Beijing United Publishing Co., 2015.
    Nanpai, Sanshu 南派三叔. Dàomù bǐjì 盗墓笔 记 [The Lost Tomb (10 Volumes)]. Shanghai: Shanghai Culture Publishing House, 2011.
    Tianxia, Bachang 天下霸唱. Guǐ chuī dēng 鬼 吹灯 [Ghost Blows Out the Light (8 Volumes)]. Changsha: Hunan Literature and Art Publishing House, 2019.
    Xia, Yi 夏忆. Zuìhòu yīgè dàoshi 1 最后一个道 士1 [The Last Taoist Vol.1]. Nanchang: Baihuazhou Literature and Art Publishing House, 2012.