Grave Robbers’ Parlance

Be warned, for this is not the Chinese that your everyday salary-man or pen-pusher will be familiar with. That said, if you enjoy scouring backstreet antique markets for obscure treasures, you’re more than likely to come across a stall or two operated by grimy-fingered grave robbers…

Chinese authorities estimate that as many as 100,000 grave robbers could be roaming the country, searching for ancient tombs to pilfer. Naturally, an illicit subculture of this size has its own argot, not unlike medieval thieves’ cant. Though the following sentences and vocabulary have been adapted from the aforementioned novels, a hobby archaeologist friend of mine confirms that the language is used in the actual communities.

As with all sexy black market terminology, the grave robbers’ parlance was essentially designed to obfuscate potentially incriminating details: valuable scrolls of calligraphy or paintings are nonchalantly referred to as “paper” (纸儿 Zhǐr), while precious jade artefacts are simply “stones” (石头 Shítou). Grave robbers themselves call their profession daodou (倒斗), or “emptying the ladle,” because a tomb resembles the shape of an inverted ladle.

The novels are supposedly written by ex-grave robbers, and the narrative conceit is that they are true tales (or at most lightly embellished stories) of their exploits. It’s important to separate fact from fiction, as Chinese grave robbing is a very real problem, and China’s Ministry of Public Security estimates that some 200 million ancient Chinese graves were illicitly excavated in recent years alone.

In the books, if not in real life, there are plenty of supernatural goings-on. In ancient China, people believed that death was merely the end of the physical body, and that the spirit lived on. Grave robbers have stories of the inhabitants of the tombs—the corpses—springing to life and chasing after intruders, driven by a blind hunger for the very breath of the living, the invaluable life force known as yangqi (阳气). Naturally, there are words to classify different kinds of corpses in varying stages of decay. Fleshy, well-preserved corpses are named after the sticky triangular rice cakes known as zongzi (粽子), probably because naming corpses after a tasty snack of gloopy rice, itself embalmed in leaves of bamboo, is quite a delicious irony.

Decayed corpses that are little more than piles of bone are ganzongzi (干粽子) or “dry zongzi,” while rouzongzi (肉粽子), “meaty zongzi,” refers to corpses that are adorned with valuables. What all grave robbers wish to avoid are the dazongzi (大粽子), the “big zongzi,” which are the re-animated corpses out for blood, breath and brains.

Wǒmen zhè li yǒu gè gǔ mù, tīng shuō lǐbian yǒu dà zòngzi.
我们这里有个古墓,听说里边有大粽子。

We have an ancient tomb here, and legend has it that the undead reside within.

When two grave robbers get together to discuss their profession, an outsider listening in is likely to be left scratching their head in confusion. Take for example the following simple exchange:

Gǎn wèn zhè wèi dǐng shàng yuán liáng, zài héfāng fēnguò shān jiǎ, chāi jiě de jǐ dào qiū mén?
敢问这位顶上元良,在何方分过山甲,拆解得几道丘门?

May I ask this most skilled of associates, whereabouts do you search for tombs, and what kind of tomb are you most adept at entering?

Here yuanliang (元良), literally “great virtue,” is an honorific term used by grave robbers to denote someone of the same profession. Fen shanjia (分山甲), literally “part the shell of the mountains,” means “to prospect for tombs to rob,” and chaijie qiumen (拆解丘门) means “to break into a tomb and disassemble its traps” (丘门 literally means “grave door”).

Wú yǒu yuán liáng, shānshàng bān cháishān xià shāohuǒ, zhè gū fēn shān jiǎ, yàozi jiě qiū mén.
无有元良,山上搬柴山下烧火,鹧鸪分山甲,鹞子解丘门。

My skills are nothing really; what I know has merely been passed down from generation to generation in my family. I roam far and wide, and work on tombs from all eras.

In reply, the speaker first modestly deflects the compliment, then utters the phrase “collect firewood on the mountain and make a fire at its foot” (山上搬柴山下烧火), to indicate that he learned his grave-robbing skills from his ancestors. Zhegu (鹧鸪, partridge) stands for “all around” in grave robber’s parlance, and yaozi (鹞子, sparrow), means “in all ages.”