2 The Composition of a Jiangshi Army: A Revenge Story

In the late Tang Dynasty, there was a powerful empress named Empress Wang Zhi who had come from a long line of women well-versed in alchemy. Her husband, Emperor Ku, was especially nasty, and didn’t hesitate to abuse and criticize Wang Zhi (oftentimes over things that were not even her fault). Truth be told, it seemed as though Ku’s bitterness was worsening by the day, probably due to the increasing disorder in his empire resulting from his poor rulership. And, unfortunately, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, as Ku’s parents and brothers acted in the same manner, and often derived their entertainment from ganging up on Wang Zhi and the other women in the court. One day, after a particularly cruel bout, Wang Zhi decided she had had enough, vowing to never let another man mistreat her again. Thus, keeping her special hobby hidden from her peers, she set out to use her knowledge of the magical arts to get revenge on her husband and his cruel family members.

Unsure of how to go about this at first, Wang thought of the childhood stories her mother used to tell her growing up of different powerful demons, spirits, and monsters. The story that stood out to her most was that of these reanimated corpses called jiangshi 殭屍, who were known for holding grudges, even in death. In fact, these creatures would come back to life temporarily to avenge themselves against the still-living who had hurt or disrespected them. Once accomplished, they would go stiff again, almost as if they were finally able to die peacefully.

And so, Wang would use this pettiness to her advantage, using spells and rituals to build up her own personal army of jiangshi. Naturally, this army was comprised exclusively of deceased females who would have grievances against men, which, due to man’s nature, was not hard to find, as it seems as though every woman has been wronged in some way by at least one man during their lifetime.

Using the abandoned temple on the edge of the kingdom as her home base for such a project, the very first of the deceased that Wang reanimated was her first daughter who had been sold by the emperor upon her birth. Being the unreasonable and volatile man he was, this was done solely on the account of not her being a male heir that could inherit the throne. The daughter, named Lei, ended up living a miserable life, and ultimately died young, without ever knowing her true parents. But, fortunately, the cunning Wang got access to the transaction records, and from afar, kept an eye on her daughter until her death. So, of course, Lei would be the first to be brought back and was actually placed as second in command and overall head of the jiangshi army by Wang. She also gave her the power of rejuvenation, so that if some harm was inflicted upon Lei, she could quickly recover. Not only was doing this a way to reconcile her husband’s ill-action, but it allowed Wang to be in charge of the army indirectly while keeping her distance, therefore avoiding any suspicion should things go south.

While there are many ways to raise the dead, Wang decided that the most efficient and suitable for her purpose was a spell that would gradually grant the jiangshi the ability to evolve and gain powers as they were reanimated for more time. This would lend way to a sort of hierarchy within the army, with the older and stronger jiangshi being at the front of the lines when it came time for the attack. After much testing and observation, there seemed to be four main stages which the jiangshi would endure. The first stage was easily the weakest, as the

freshly risen jiangshi would be blind, which despite Wang’s experiments seemed to be an unavoidable side effect of coming back to life. This meant that the baby jiangshi, one could call them, would be reliant on the older for sight. It wasn’t all bad though, as they had incredibly sharp nails that would disembowel a man within a single swipe. In the second stage, which was achieved after being “alive” again for only a couple of days, the jiangshi would regain around half of their sight and would gain intense speed. By the third stage, entered after the first week, they would fully recover their sight, and gain extreme strength as well. While reaching the fourth and final stage was somewhat rare (because, to no one’s surprise, keeping the dead alive for longer than a couple of weeks proved rather difficult), those who did survive that long would develop a toxic fur/mold on their skin which was incredibly contagious to humans. These jiangshi were by far the ones you would want to avoid the most because upon being exposed to this fur, a human would gain a slowly developing but incredibly painful rash which was always fatal. Since this last level was risky and tiresome to control, Wang only was able to raise about five successfully. So, the army was organized such that Lei acted as the general, with the third-stage jiangshi in the front, the second-stage in the middle, and the beginning-stage jiangshi at the back of the attacking force. The five strongest would be kept secret for now, as they were part of Wang’s greater agenda.

After much debate, Wang eventually decided that she would reveal her army during the emperor’s upcoming wedding ceremony. This was not a choice made out of jealousy over her husband pursuing another concubine, but rather was a way to prevent and protect other women from having to incur the abuse she did on behalf of her awful husband and the men in his family. Wang, after patiently waiting for the night before the wedding to come, persuaded the emperor and his prospective concubine to have a long, fancy dinner. This was not hard to convince the emperor, as in addition to being a bit dumb, he was also a glutton and used any excuse he could eat endlessly. With this distraction underway, Lei was able to set up the army in the basement of the palace where the wedding would occur.

The next day, as the staff set up the wedding, nothing was suspected, and the wedding went underday. And, since Wang had employed Lei to control the army, she was able to sit front and center and play the role of a happy, supportive wife. However, just as the ceremony was hitting its climax, a mysterious rumbling began growing from the hallway. Growing increasingly louder, it eventually became apparent that the noise resembled a marching of sorts. As it got closer and closer to the door separating the hallway from the ceremony room, the emperor grew angry and sent out his guard to investigate. They confidently left the room with their spears and swords in hand, yelling at the intruders to stop. As the doors closed and they left the room, there were a couple of screams, and clashing noises of metal, and then everything went eerily quiet. A look of apprehension went around the room, where its inhabitants, including the emperor, were unsure of how to approach the situation, especially as the only means of defense were now gone.

Just as the emperor began to rise from his seat, the doors of the room violently burst open, and the room filled with what seemed like hundreds of angry female jiangshi, with Lei in the very front, whom the emperor recognized immediately. As the doors swung open and closed, the crowd caught a glimpse of the hallway floor, completely covered in broken weapons and bloodied bodies. All hell broke loose, and everyone began screaming and trying to frantically flee. The few priests present, upon realizing what kind of creatures the army was comprised of, bravely ran forward to defend their emperor, but were instantly either impaled by the jiangshi’s sharp nails, crushed by their strong limbs, or simply died of fright.

The now completely defenseless emperor, being the coward he was, tried to hide behind Wang, and his male family members present tried to also hide behind their wives or flee. However, this too was futile, as the army only went after the male attendants. Once the female members of the ceremony realized this, they immediately ran out of the room, until only the men and Wang were left with the army. Acting too quickly and strongly to even defend themselves, the men were all murdered by the jiangshi, one by one, leaving only the emperor. At this point, having achieved their goal, the jiangshi slowly went stiff, and the five oldest jiangshi entered. They surrounded the king, taking him away to die a slow, excruciatingly painful death that was ultimately deserving of all the pain he and his family had caused.