“Serve the dead as one serves the living.”

This principle has shaped Chinese funeral and ancestral rites for over two millennia. Traditionally, it meant visiting tombs with food and wine and burning joss paper or paper effigies to honor the deceased. In recent years, however, some rather unexpected offerings have started appearing at the burial sites of famous historical figures.

For example, visitors to the tomb of Guo Rong, also known as Emperor Shizong of Later Zhou (r. 951–960), have left offerings of Beijing soil. A copy of a book on child psychology was discovered at the grave of Zhang Juzheng, a high official during the Ming dynasty (1368–1644). And custodians of the tomb of Cao Cao, a warlord during the Three Kingdoms period (220–280), have been inundated with ibuprofen packets — one of which was accompanied by a heartfelt instruction: “General Cao, these are to help with your migraines. Take half a tablet when the pain strikes.”

These unconventional offerings may seem absurd, but each one has a story behind it. For example, it is well known in China that Cao Cao suffered from persistent headaches. And Guo Rong fell ill and died during an expedition north to reclaim lost territory, so well-wishers now bring the north to him. Meanwhile, the book on children’s psychology left for Zhang Juzheng was a more tongue-in-cheek offering. After serving for 10 years as a stern tutor and father figure to a young emperor, Zhang was posthumously stripped of all titles, ranks, and property by the ruler he’d helped raise. Perhaps a more modern approach could have helped him navigate their power imbalance.

In every case, however, the offerings centered on some aspect of the deceased’s life — a well-known habit, a historical anecdote, or an unfulfilled ambition. And they were all carried out by members of an unlikely, yet increasingly popular subculture in China: shitong nü, or “history fangirls.”

The shitong nü movement has its roots in fanfiction — specifically Japanese doujin — but with a focus on history instead of pop culture. But unlike historical fiction, which tends to ask what historical figures did or might have done, history fangirls are often more interested in who they were: who they loved, how they behaved, what they might have said to a friend, or what it would have been like to know them.

The result is something that closely resembles modern fandom culture, but instead of young singers or movie stars, fans fixate on people who’ve been dead for centuries, if not longer.

Members of the community are not blind to these parallels. Indeed, they will sometimes jokingly describe themselves as fans of “underground idols” — a term taken from the Japanese “chika aidoru,” referring to idol groups that have yet to break into the mainstream. This Japanese loanword has taken on an additional layer of meaning in China: Since the people being admired are six feet under, they are quite literally underground idols.

The ways in which these enthusiasts relate to historical figures generally fall into two categories. The first are “solo stans,” who focus all their time and energy on a single celebrity. Some even become what is known as a “dream girl,” imagining romantic relationships with their favorite historical figure through various kinds of fan-made works.

The other major type are “shippers,” who invent emotional relationships between two or more historical figures.

These two categories are not exclusive. For example, a history fangirl might have a favorite emperor, while also being deeply invested in imagining his close relationship with one of his generals.

As for why, to many history fangirls, historical figures are the ideal subjects for the emotional investment required by contemporary fandom. Loving a living celebrity comes with a certain amount of risk, since there will inevitably be a gap between the carefully curated public image and the real individual. Even fictional characters are at the mercy of their creators, who may do or say something that fans find unacceptable.

Historical figures, however, are different. Their lives have already been extensively documented, and there are few surprises in store. There is little risk at this point that the deceased will fall from grace, for example, or betray their fans or disappoint them by revealing some hidden side.

Moreover, the sparseness of the historical record leaves plenty of space for imagination. Official histories rarely describe how someone walked, sat, or conversed with a close friend. As such, history fangirls are free to fill in the blanks, attach their own understandings, and invest themselves emotionally. Importantly, since the deceased can never contradict them, there is no one to reject fans’ interpretations or deny their emotional projection, making them unusually safe objects of affection.

Deciding which historical figure to stan and how to express one’s affection varies from person to person. However, the practice generally follows a similar pattern: reading historical materials, creating fan works, and making pilgrimages to historical sites.

When you care deeply about someone, it is natural to want to learn everything you can about them, and so history fangirls typically spend a lot of time reading up on their underground idols. In some cases, publishers of obscure old books have been surprised by sudden sales spikes, with some works even selling out the moment they are put on sale. On platforms like Xiaohongshu, also known as RedNote, fans swap tips for how to buy rare books like the “Complete Collected Works of Cao Pi,” Cao Cao’s son and a particularly popular underground idol.

In addition to reading up on history, fans mark special occasions such as Tomb-sweeping Day and the Dragon Boat Festival, as well as birthdays and death anniversaries, with collaborative online creative projects or offline pilgrimages. Even the most secluded tombs and little-known ruins can now be found using guides posted on social media. Many leave handwritten notes or gifts connected to the figure’s life as a way of making the visit feel more personal, as if the deceased were capable of “receiving” this kindness.

Because their focus is history — a serious and important field of knowledge — the fandom enjoys cultural legitimacy that other forms of celebrity obsession don’t receive. Its economic potential has also encouraged wider acceptance. Various cemeteries have gradually adapted to and encouraged the subculture, while museums and cultural institutions have started producing related merchandise and collaborating with games aimed at fans. Even state media outlets have lauded enthusiasts for “strengthening cultural confidence” and “promoting national heritage.”

Critics, however, worry that fandom is turning history into entertainment. The most common concern is the “fandomization” of history, with critics worrying that fan-made creations will ultimately distort the public’s understanding of the past.

Yet both sides risk missing the fandom’s essence. History fangirls are not trying to produce historical knowledge or advance a social agenda. They are enthusiasts practicing a personal hobby, with the simple goal of enjoying themselves.

Take, for example, the popularity of “underworld couples” — pairings understood to be toxic, or which romanticize violent or unequal relationships. One well-known example is between Cao Pi and one of his wives, Lady Zhen, whom he later had killed. Some fan-made works imagine the deep, tragic love between the pair, while others attempt to give Lady Zhen — whose personal name is not recorded in the historical records — greater subjectivity, or even place her in a parallel universe where she can choose her own fate. The fandom has no single, central discourse. Morality is not the primary standard; chemistry is.

Ultimately, the subculture’s power lies precisely in these intimate, personal acts of imagination that grand historical narratives cannot co-opt. As the 16th-century poet-official Yang Shen once wrote: “The history books contain but a handful of names, while the hills are strewn with countless forgotten tombs.” Yet, through the imaginations of the living, these historical figures continue to walk among us.

Translator: David Ball; portrait artist: Wang Zhenhao.

(Header image: A woman takes a photo of a display dedicated to Cao Cao at the Cao Cao Mausoleum Site Museum in Anyang, Henan province, May 2026. VCG)