09/26/24 - Working as a chat moderator in the afterlife, cheering goddamn ghosts on, thanking ghosts for their superchats…
A compilation of Chinese people’s accounts of the afterlife:
“I told my child that you have to work even after you’re dead. And my son was like, “Not just that. When you’re done with your work under there, you can go reincarnate. But if they find something wrong with your work or that you didn’t actually properly complete it, they’ll have you come back down and finish it properly.” And I was like, “So you have to die again?” And he was like, “Yeah.””
“My grandma died once 9 years ago. After she came back, she said she was an accountant, and the after life was super busy those days so she got called in to do some emergency overtime. After she was done with her work, she went back on leave and came back. She even said she didn’t have much time so she only visited her parents.”
“The only thing I got out of this comment section is that the new ruler of the afterlife is a handsome young man.”
“After I had my C-section, I was still recovering from anaesthesia that first night, and this man dressed like Kaito Kid kept talking to me and even introduced himself as Xie Bi’an. Chatted to me all night long, until I woke up around 4AM. I complained to my husband that some guy was keeping me up all night long and it was super annoying, he said his name was Xie Bi’an when I don’t even know anyone named Xie. Terrified my husband right out of sleep, and he didn’t dare to lay back down. Once we got discharged, he told me that the man I saw in my dream that night was the White Anitya.” [Two messengers of hell that take people’s souls upon death and deals with vicious ghosts, black and white respectively.]
“If that’s how it works, leave a letter with your best friend to burn you mansions, servants, and hot men after you die. Buy the most expensive of origami.”
“I think so. Before, I heard someone say that a retired grandpa they knew was dying and got the whole family together to say some last words. The family begged him to stay a bit more, and he was like, “I can’t. They’re hurrying me to go back to work. They’ve got an office already set up for me and can’t wait.” Died in just a few hours.”
“There’s so many people now that hell’s paying for hidden ads.”
“So, the treatment I’m enjoying now is exactly what I’m going to be getting after death too, right?”
“So humans are basically larval ghosts, and death is your metamorphosis?”
“Yup. Whatever you do in life, you’ll end up doing after death. My husband’s grandparents were both teachers in life. After they passed away, we asked at the temple and got to talk to his grandma, who said his grandpa was teaching in heaven, and she’s answering calls in temples.”
“So is the ruler of hell using the Book of Life and Death still or has he switched to excel sheets?”
“My master said that the God of Love isn’t a grandpa either, it’s a super hot young man who’s just laying flat every one (the number of people getting married isn’t even as high as the number of people getting divorced).”
“They’ve got shopping districts and movie theatres down there, and food, and even traffic cops and scooters. It’s just like Earth, except the sky is always grey. They’ve got ticket counters at the movie theatre too, and you have to stand in line. You don’t have to walk but you do have feet. There’s no countries in the afterlife, but there’s skyscrapers. It’s actually pretty fun, but the management down there is super mean. They found me and sent me back with a slap. Totally wasted that movie ticket I bought.”
“Cool fact: You look like exactly how you looked like when you died. If you have tattoos, you can’t even go down there by yourself.”
“I dreamed I was following a man who was totally black all over, and we rode the elevator down to basement level 3, where a grandma said she was out of money and asked me for some, and a different grandma was like, “What the hell is a living person doing here? Go back already!” And then I woke up.”
“Is there a tutorial on scattering your soul?” [So that you don’t have to go to the afterlife.]
“Working as a chat moderator in the afterlife, cheering goddamn ghosts on, thanking ghosts for their superchats…”
“I really did dream about doing accounting work in the afterlife. I’m a cost accountant, and you have no idea the lengths I had to go to to pass the heavenly audit.”
“My dad (dead) took my mom (dreaming) down there on a tour, and she said they had skyscrapers down there just like we do up here.”
“No wonder programmers die so young. Looks like hell needs talent to build their computer networks.”
“When my grandma died, I dreamed that I got to walk her along. We rode a little red car to a place that looked like a five-star hotel. We went in and there was a huge front desk, and there was a wall of cubby holes behind the desk like you see at a Chinese Medicine pharmacy. And there was two super long corridors to either side of the front desk. There were a lot of workers in the lobby in suits and ties, and a man came up to us super enthusiastically and the moment I met his eyes, I woke up. Ever since then, I’ve believed in ghosts.”
“So, now that the afterlife canonically has an internet connection, they’ve seen that urging people to give birth isn’t working so now they’re just urging people to die?”
“Fuck. I have to work like livestock even after I’m dead?”
“The afterlife really isn’t that different from life. I guess the only difference is the weather is always just between when the sun goes down and when night actually falls. It’s never bright day light (or maybe I just never go over there during the day?). My grandpa loves taking me there. I still remember that my grandpa lives on Willow Avenue, which is a really broad street. It’s a dirt road, but it’s very smooth. And in the middle of the street is a super fancy Chinese-style manor. It had pavilions and gardens and everything, but all the wood is really dark black or brown. And my grandpa slept in the main room. He’s there by himself and it’s kinda empty and cold and sad. I asked him about my grandma, and he said that my grandma hadn’t come yet. Fuck, there was even a super tasty-looking buffet with a big dessert section. When I went, all the food was out, so I just ordered a duck blood soup, no cilantro, no green onions. And as soon as I was done ordering, I woke up.”
“Hell, there is no need to promote yourself. I’ll go naturally once I die.”
“I dreamed of a man who was kinda hot, with short hair (and a black long coat, sort of like the Fahai in Baishe: Fusheng [a 2024 animated movie about the Legend of the White Snake]. I really liked him and pursued him and didn’t end up with him (but I feel like he liked me back). It was super realistic, and his name was Xie Chang’an.”
“Most Gods are pretty hot. They’re just worried about people getting weirdly obsessive and not respecting them, so they put on a scary face.”
“I remember one summer break in middle school when I stayed up until 2-3AM every day. I really wasn’t feeling well that day and planned to go to bed by midnight and accidentally stayed up until 2AM again, and I saw a miniature ox head and that scared me right into sleep.” [The two messengers of hell that comes pick up your souls are often said to have a horse head and an ox head respectively.]
“1. They have really bad inflation down there. Because everyone burns gold, gold is next to worthless down there. 2. The 100 million notes you get from the Hell Bank are useless. Nobody takes them. They only want hand-folded gold bullions. 3. Stop asking your ancestors to give you good luck. I already told you about the hyper-inflation. The spare change you burn at Memorial Day isn’t even enough for your ancestors to get by, how are they supposed to get you luck? You spend a couple bucks on paper money, while the rich and powerful are spending hundreds of thousands on religious rites. How are your ancestors supposed to outcompete theirs? 4. Stop thinking about relying on your ancestors once you’re dead. You don’t necessarily get to live with your family. Once you’re down there, you might never find your family.”
A discussion online over whether 38kg is a normal weight for an adult woman:
“Sennv Buluo’s [fashion brand] model is only 38kg!? Is this a typo or something? Even little kids weigh more than 38kg, right?”
Comments say, “Don’t ignore the height. She’s only 157cm.”
“Even at 157cm, it’s ridiculous! I’m the same height, and this was how much I weighed back in middle school. Once I grew up, even at my lightest, I was 48kg, and I still looked super thin.”
“157cm and 38kg is just straight up unhealthy.”
“It depends on the person. You can’t speak for everyone.”
“Random passerby, I’m 157cm, 39kg, and this is what I look like. I’m not skin on bones at all, there’s even a little chub on my tummy (like I’m 3-4 months pregnant). And I eat quite a lot usually. I’ve got a big appetite and I eat 3 meals a day and never skip any meals. Actually, I eat almost 4 meals a day because I usually get a late night snack too. Everyone around me knows I’ve got a great appetite, I just never gain any weight. I’m not skin on bones like the comment section is saying at all, and I’m not malnutritioned and I don’t get sick much at all. I want to gain some weight too. I even tried making myself eat as much as my boyfriend every day. But he gained 10kg eating like that and I just maintained weight. I don’t think I look bad or unhealthy.”
“My roommate is a southern girl who’s really tiny, around 40kg. She just looks really thin, but not skin on bones. It’s just normal.”
“157cm and 38kg 100% means you’re skin on bones. What are you thinking.”
“But there’s a ton of people who are 40kg.”
“No, but I know there’s lots of people who are 40kg, but she’s a model. If these clothes have to be displayed on someone so thin, how are normal people supposed to wear them?”
“157cm/38kg is fine, isn’t it? It’s equivalent to 165cm/46kg. That’s just slightly on the thinner side of normal.”
“I feel bullied passing by this comment section. What has thin people ever done to you? I’m 155cm/36kg, eat everything I want, never get sick, not skin on bones. What’s wrong with not gaining weight?”
“What’s fat people ever done to you? A model who’s so tiny provides no value at all in telling how the clothes are gonna fit.”
“She’s pretty young. At 157cm, I can only say she’s leaning on the thinner side, not that she’s super thin.”
“158cm, 36-38kg. I’ve small-boned and I look pretty normal in real life, not skin on bones. I eat two bowls of rice with every meal and I’ve got boobs, thank you.”
“What? Some people just can’t gain weight.”
“Typical Xiao Hong Shu. It’s normal for a grown ass adult to be 35kg?”
“It’s really scary to be so thin that you can see your rib cage.”
“I’ve dropped to 39kg after a bad breakup, and my face was still chubby.”
“Based on this child weight chart I found, that is lower than the standard weight of 13-year-old girls. What’s the point of hiring a model like this?”
“Just take a look at the comment section and you’ll know that your fact checking is pointless. No one is gonna listen.”
“What’s the most common “common sense mistake” in movies? Burying a body.
In a movie, this is a pretty common scene—someone has committed a murder and in order to hide the body, they’ll randomly dig a grave in their backyard, or in a field somewhere, or under a tree.
Yes, with only one shovel.
The screenwriter has probably never dug a hole before, or done any field work. He has no idea what 20cm of soil could contain—thick soil, knotted tree roots, hard rocks, compressed trash. A shovel isn’t going to cut it at all.
You need at least a pickaxe. That’s the minimum amount of equipment required for a grave. And even so, it’s going to take hours. And that’s if you work out a lot.
If you assume a grave is a 1.5mx1mx1.5m hole, that’s 2.25 cubic metres. One cubic metre of dry dirt is about 1.5-2 tonnes (based on soil type). That is to say, you’ll have to move 3-4 tonnes of soil to make a grave. Believe me, your arms won’t feel like they’re still attached by the time you’re done.”
Comments say, “Then how come three little kids could bury a body by themselves in a couple of hours?”
“1.5 metres deep? That’s for lowering a coffin into. That’s not necessary at all. You just need a hole big enough to stuff it in, with a thin layer of soil on top. Anyone who’s actually buried stuff knows.”
“When I was in primary school, I lived somewhere super remote, and my mom and her friend wanted to fence in a piece of abandoned land around our house for growing veggies in. There was a 50 sq cm, 15cm thick block of concrete in the middle of the land that was in the way, so my mom wanted to dig the concrete block out. And in the end, my mom, her friend, me, her friend’s daughter all took turns with a shovel for a whole fucking afternoon, and all we accomplished was get a layer of dirt off of it.”