"Close Encounter with a Chinese Jiāng Shī (僵尸)" poem

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Close Encounter with a Chinese Jiāngshī

The alley breathed—
a wet gasp of rotting silk,
then it emerged:
stiff-kneed, arms outstretched,
its Qing-dynasty robes crusted with grave-mud,
yellow talisman fluttering at its brow like a dying moth.

I froze.
The hopping corpse tilted its head—
moonlight slid off its paper-dry skin,
revealing the hollow where its soul *used* to be.
Its breath (why did it have breath?)
smelled of pickled plums and burial incense.

One hop.
Two.
The charms on its hat tinked like wind chimes.
I remembered Grandma’s warning:
"Hold your breath—
it counts living hearts by their exhalations."

But terror is a curious thing—
as it lunged, I laughed.
A giggle, sharp as a broken mirror,
and the jiāngshī hesitated.
For one impossible second,
we stared at each other:
it, a puppet of stale magic;
me, a fool with no paper charms,
no peachwood sword,
just the absurdity of being seen by the unseen.

Then—
a dog barked.
The spell snapped.
It hopped backward into the shadows,
leaving only a trail of damp footprints
that evaporated by dawn.

Now, I keep a single talisman under my pillow.
Not for protection—
but in case it returns,
and this time,
I have questions.

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**Cultural Notes:**
- **Jiāngshī ("Stiff Corpse")**: Chinese hopping vampires reanimated by restless *qi*. They track prey by breath sounds and fear vibrations.
- **Talismans**: Daoist priests write spells on yellow paper to control them.
- **Qing Robes**: Many jiāngshī wear burial clothes from China’s last dynasty (1644–1912), often with a mandarin square hat.
- **Peachwood**: Believed to repel evil spirits since ancient times.