My name is Lan, and I’m twenty-seven years old. I was born in a small mountain village called Baiwu Village by the Yellow River. I have an older brother, one year my senior, who is already married and settled down.
Our family was poor. Ten years ago, my father gave my brother and me a choice: get married or continue our education. Back then, I was ambitious and determined to change my fate through knowledge. I secretly mocked my brother for lacking ambition—what was so great about marrying a village girl? A real man should aim for the pinnacle of life and win the heart of a beautiful, wealthy woman.
In the end, knowledge did change my fate.
When I was young, a fortune-teller told me I had “peach blossom eyes” and “silkworm eyebrows,” predicting that I’d be popular with women and would become a father by the age of twenty. Now, at twenty-seven, I’m still single, working a dead-end job in Guangdong, and too ashamed to return home for the New Year. Truly, a shining example of how knowledge changes fate.
This year, my father specifically called to urge me to come home for the New Year. Staring at the few thousand yuan I’d managed to save in my bank account, I let out a long sigh. My parents are getting older, and even if I’m ashamed, I should go back and see them.
I arrived home on the twentieth day of the twelfth lunar month. The very next day, a man named Chow from the neighboring village came to see me with a sly look on his face.
Chow wasn’t visiting me for the first time. He’d had his eye on me since high school, and after I graduated from a third-rate university, he approached me again. Our area is located in the middle and lower reaches of the Yellow River, near a dangerous bend where floating corpses from upstream often appear. Chow is one of the legendary “corpse retrievers.”
It’s no secret that retrieving corpses can be lucrative. Retrieving an ordinary corpse starts at five thousand yuan, and for wealthier clients, the price can go up to tens of thousands. Although rural wedding dowries are high these days, if I worked with Chow for a few years, I’d have no trouble saving up for a wife—assuming anyone would marry me. What decent girl would want to marry a corpse retriever? It’s a life destined for loneliness.
Seeing Chow made me angry. A few years ago, I wouldn’t have even let him through the door. But now, I’m poor and desperate, my mind filled with thoughts of making quick money. So I asked him, “Plenty of people around here want to take up this trade. Why do you keep bothering me?”
“Retrieving corpses is a job granted by the Yellow River King. Not just anyone can do it. You were born on the ninth day of the first lunar month, during the hour of the dragon. The old almanac says it’s the day of the ‘Nine Dragons Governing Water.’ You’re born for this.”
“Go to hell! You’re the one born for this, and so’s your whole family!” I cursed at him.
Chow just chuckled, unfazed.
Actually, the “Nine Dragons Governing Water” does have some basis. The saying goes that too many dragons mean no rain, and people with this fate are spared from water-related disasters. Not only do I have this fate, but I’m also a rare “pure yang” person, naturally repelling dark spirits.
I do have the qualifications to take up this trade, but who would want it? I didn’t before, but now I need money.
Seeing my parents’ gray hair and thinking about how I’m still drifting aimlessly at this age, I know they probably can’t hold their heads high in the village. Local girls might not marry a corpse retriever, but if I make enough money, I can always quit and switch careers. Then I’d have no trouble finding a wife.
Seeing that I was tempted, Chow poured me a few drinks. With a bit of alcohol in me, I agreed, promising to report to him after the New Year.
Retrieving corpses is a taboo profession. My mother was against it and asked my father to talk me out of it, but he just stood there, speechless. I don’t blame him. After years of working in Guangzhou, I’ve always harbored resentment. I spent whatever I earned, and my actions often hurt my father. In his eyes, even working with Chow would be better than my life in Guangzhou.
After the New Year and the end of the first lunar month, I walked along the snowy riverbank in the biting cold. The Yellow River has flood seasons year-round. The ice flood had just passed, and the peach blossom flood was still a ways off. Standing on the embankment, the river looked like a boneless eel, winding its way through the land.
Corpse retrievers don’t live with ordinary people. Chow built a small farmhouse on the embankment, where he lived year-round, only returning to his ancestral home for the New Year.
I got up late and arrived at Chow’s place around noon. From a distance, I saw a figure standing by his iron gate. As I got closer, I realized it was a young woman in a red dress. She had been standing there for who knows how long, her clothes covered in tiny snowflakes.
Her face was exquisite, with delicate features and striking eyes. I’d never seen a woman so beautiful without makeup, and I was momentarily stunned.
She was looking at me too, unashamedly staring straight into my eyes. Our gazes met, and I was the first to look away.
“Are you here to see Chow?” I asked awkwardly.
She shook her head, her captivating eyes still fixed on me.
I couldn’t take it anymore and turned to knock on the door.
“Hey, you finally came to report. Come in and warm up,” Chow greeted me warmly.
I found it strange that Chow didn’t acknowledge the woman outside. When I turned to look, she was gone.
“Chow, did you see a woman out there? She was standing right behind me,” I asked, startled.
“A woman? There’s no woman here. Lan, are you so desperate for a woman that you’re seeing things?”
Chow’s expression seemed genuine. Had I imagined it? I looked down for footprints in the snow, but aside from my own boot prints, there was nothing.
“What are you waiting for?” Chow urged me to come inside.
“It’s just… I really saw a woman in a red dress at your door.”
“Lan, don’t scare me like that. You can joke about food, but not this. It’s noon, the time when yin energy is strongest,” Chow said, wide-eyed.
There are two times in the day when ghosts are most active: midnight and noon. While midnight is known for its heavy yin energy, noon, when yang energy peaks, actually produces the strongest yin energy due to the principle of extreme yang giving rise to yin. In our area, people avoid going out at noon to avoid attracting spirits.
Chow’s words made me uneasy, but I didn’t dwell on it. I’d already decided to take up this trade, so I was prepared to encounter the supernatural. Besides, my fate is strong. If something bad happened, Chow would be the first to suffer, not me.
Chow’s courtyard had three rooms: a main room that doubled as a kitchen, a storage room, and a bedroom. Inside the main room, a stove was heating a pot of sorghum wine, a local specialty. The table was set with roasted chicken, cured fish, tofu, and peanuts.
I hadn’t eaten breakfast and was starving. The sight of the feast made my mouth water, and I dug in eagerly. As I ate, Chow explained the rules and taboos of corpse retrieval.
I’d thought the job only tested one’s courage and stomach—after all, the timid wouldn’t dare, and the squeamish would vomit. But Chow’s explanation made it clear that this was a dangerous profession.
There are many types of corpses in the Yellow River, the most common being floating corpses. After death, bodies usually surface within three to five days. Male corpses float face down, while female corpses float face up—a natural law based on human anatomy. However, if a male corpse floats face up or a female corpse face down, it’s not a regular corpse but a “corpse demon.” These corpses are filled with unresolved resentment, and retrieving them means taking on the ghost’s grievance. If you fail to resolve it, the vengeful spirit will haunt you.
Besides floating corpses, there are also “upright corpses” that stand vertically in the water, occasionally showing the top of their heads. These corpses are often claimed by river creatures like kappas or water monkeys. Retrievers usually avoid them unless they’re skilled enough to handle such beings.
“Lan, don’t be scared. I’ve been in this business for twenty years. I’ve seen almost everything in the Yellow River—except the Yellow River Maiden. I’ve even killed my share of water monkeys,” Chow said, trying to reassure me.
But his mention of the Yellow River Maiden immediately piqued my interest. In middle school, we studied a text about the “River God’s Wedding,” and the Yellow River Maiden was the bride offered to the River God. In the past, people would sacrifice livestock—and sometimes even humans—to appease the River God. The most horrifying sacrifices were young, unmarried women—beautiful, talented, and wrapped in red silk before being coated with tung oil and sunk into the river.
The Yellow River Maiden is a ghost, but a rare and beautiful one. Having died unmarried and with lingering regrets, most folklore about her revolves around love and romance.
“Chow, are there still Yellow River Maidens in the river today?” I asked.
“Times have changed, and the River God might be gone, but the Yellow River Maiden was a living person sacrificed unjustly. The heavens don’t interfere with her, so she’s probably still around.”
“What’s the deal with the Yellow River Maiden? What if we encounter her?”
“Don’t worry, we won’t. My family has been retrieving corpses for four generations, and none of us have ever seen her.”
“But what if we do?” I pressed.
“Well, if you really meet her, you could marry her. Sure, she can’t give you children, but she’ll give you all the pleasures you could ever want,” Chow said with a grin, clearly joking.