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China’s Mystical Writing: Fu Ji (扶乩) – When Spirits Pick Up the Pen

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Since ancient times, Fu Ji was a way of communicating with spirits in China. Not only to get in contact with your dearly departed, but also to get medical advice and spiritual guidance from the other side. 

If you thought the Ouija board was the pinnacle of spine-tingling communication with the dead, buckle up—because China had already mastered this art centuries before anyone even whispered “Goodbye” over Parker Brothers’ infamous talking board. 

Read More: Check out all ghost stories from China

Enter Fu Ji (扶乩), an ancient form of “spirit writing” that Taoist monks, mystics, and the spiritually adventurous used to summon messages from beyond. Cryptic, unsettling, and often wrapped in layers of poetic metaphor, Fu Ji was believed to be a direct line to the deceased, celestial beings, and even Taoist deities.

Fu Ji Planchette Writing: Illustration of the fuji technique during the Qing period, in the book China and the Chinese (1869) by John L. Nevius. Under it, the caption “Writing with a forked pen an oracle on sand”. Two mediums hold the pencil over a sand tray, where characters are written allegedly under spiritual guidance.

A Stroke of the Supernatural – The Origins of Fu Ji

Dating as far back as the Song Dynasty (960–1279 AD), though some sources trace it even earlier to the Tang Dynasty. Perhaps going as far back as 400 CE. The Daoist practice was also called Fu-Luan (扶鸾) or Jiang-Bi  (降筆) and is still done in Taoist temples in Taiwan and China. In comparison, automatic writing to contact the dead was perhaps first started in Europe by  the 1600 by those practicing Enochian magic.

Conversely, most spirit-writing altars promoted the syncretic nature of Chinese religious beliefs and ritual practices, combining Confucian morality, Daoist concepts of immortality, and the Buddhist liturgical method for the universal deliverance of the dead.

Read More: Check out all ghost stories from China

Fu Ji was a divination practice that blended mysticism with the written word. The technique involved a suspended wooden or bamboo stylus (often in the shape of a Y or T) held by one or two participants—think of it as an ancient planchette with a mind of its own. The stylus would then be guided across a tray of sand, or later, over sheets of paper, forming symbols, characters, or even full messages allegedly dictated by spirits.

Unlike the Ouija board’s eerie one-letter-at-a-time approach, Fu Ji sometimes delivered entire sentences in intricate calligraphy—because, apparently, ghosts in ancient China had excellent penmanship.

Summoning Lady of the Privy

Planchette writing began as a method for summoning the Lady of the Privy ( 異苑 Yiyuan ) during the Six Dynasties, and flourished in the Tang and Song dynasties. 

She was said to have been a concubine and the head wife hated her, always making her do the hardest and dirtiest jobs. 

Most likely murdered, she died on the fifteenth day of the first month. Every year that day, people honored her by making her an idol and worshiping her in the washroom or beside the pigsty. If the idol they had made her got heavier, it was a sign she was there. People offered her juices, fruits and the idol allegedly started to move. 

She was said to foretell the future and people asked her about their good and bad luck. 

People think that she was the first spirit they tried to contact with planchette writing because there were writings where they only noted down how they worshiped her. Although it started to only be on the 15th of the first month, it ended up being possible to summon her every day. It was used for years in Chinese folk religion before finding its way into Daoist scriptures.

Read the Whole Story: Zigu (紫姑): The Lady of the Latrine – China’s Most Unsettling Restroom Ghost and Goddess 

Who Was on the Other End of the Line?

The belief was that various spirits could communicate through Fu Ji, but not just any wandering ghost could hijack the stylus. Taoist monks and practitioners often summoned:

Celestial beings and Taoist deities – if you were lucky, you might get words of wisdom from an enlightened immortal rather than some spectral troublemaker. This practice was used by a lot of Daoist practitioners to write down important Daoist books and scriptures. Some instructions were even said to have come from the Lady of the Privy. 

Works like the Complete Works of Patriarch Lü ( 呂祖全書序 Lüzu Quanshu Xu ) and Today’s Infinite Precious Repentance of Patriarch Lü ( 呂祖無極寶懺 Lüzu Wuji Baochan ) were some of the scriptures said to have come through automatic writing. 

Deceased ancestors – because sometimes, the family just won’t let you go, even in the afterlife.

Ghosts of the restless dead – this was where things get dicey. Messages could range from heartwarming reassurances to chilling warnings or vengeful curses.

The Ritual – A Delicate Dance with the Dead

Fu Ji was never just a casual game you pulled out at parties—it required a carefully constructed ritual, often performed within Taoist temples for answers, divination and poems. Usually, the séance takes place in the inner sanctuary of the shrine, an area before a central image of the deity, fenced off with a low wooden railing.

“Feiluan xin yu”; in the illustrated magazine Dian shi zhai hua bao (1884-1889). It represents the technique of fuji (pranchette spirit-writing) during the Qing period, also called “descending of the phoenix” (feiluan), with the pencil being held by two mediums over a sand tray, in which characters allegedly directed by the spirits (in the cloud above) are written.

The space was purified, incense burned, and participants (often a medium and a scribe) entered a focused, meditative state. Through chanting, prayers, or specific incantations, the spirit was invited to take control of the stylus. The stylus, seemingly guided by unseen hands, moved fluidly to inscribe messages in sand or ink. A scribe would then transcribe and interpret the cryptic responses.

Once the session ended, the spirit was respectfully dismissed (because you don’t want lingering guests from the afterlife), and the messages were analyzed for deeper meaning.

And if you think people didn’t take this seriously—historical records suggest that Fu Ji was even used in imperial courts to consult the gods on political matters. Yes, there were actual emperors out there making national decisions based on ghostly pen pals.

The Banning of Fu Ji

The Fu Ji has not the same scary connotations like the Ouija Board have today. Things might have been different for the Ouija Board tradition as well hadn’t it been for the movie, the Exorcist and how the church deemed it to be the work of demons. 

The Fu Ji writing however had other issues, as it was outright banned for other reasons. 

For a practice so intertwined with Taoist spirituality and folklore, you’d think Fu Ji would remain a permanent fixture in Chinese culture. But by the late Qing Dynasty (1644–1912), authorities began cracking down on spirit writing, seeing it as a threat to social order. The fear? That people could fake messages from the beyond to manipulate others.

Later, during the Communist era, Fu Ji and other mystical practices were outright banned as superstition. All types of superstition were forbidden, ghost stories, religion and communicating with spirits. After the founding of the People’s Republic in 1949, these sectarian communities were stigmatized as “reactionary secret societies” and forced to desist from all public activities. Therefore, spirit-writing has

long been abolished in mainland China. 

In contrast, spirit-writing altars (jitan 乩壇) or phoenix halls (luantang 鸞堂) still spread across many Chinese communities in Taiwan, Hong Kong, Singapore, and North America with the Chinese diaspora.

Is Fu Ji Still Practiced Today?

While Fu Ji is no longer mainstream, especially after the ban on supernatural practices, remnants of its influence can still be seen in certain Taoist ceremonies and spiritual communities. In Taiwan and Hong Kong, there are reports of practitioners using modified versions of spirit writing to seek divine guidance.

Fu Ji in the modern era

In modern Hong Kong, The Planchette Writings of Marquis Zhuge ( 諸葛武侯乩文 Zhuge Wuhou Jiwen) have been very popular. This was a collection of predictions written down in the 1930s, many thinking a lot of them have come true. Whether it’s true or was mostly vague in meaning is up to debate. 

Final Thoughts – A Message from the Past

Fu Ji wasn’t just a supernatural parlor trick; it was a deeply spiritual practice that people genuinely believed connected them to the beyond. Whether you see it as a fascinating cultural relic, a legitimate mystical art, or just an ancient way to freak yourself out, one thing is certain—China’s mystical writing carries a legacy that refuses to be erased.

So if you ever stumble upon an old Taoist temple with an ink-stained wooden stylus resting eerily still in a tray of sand… maybe think twice before picking it up. After all, some messages are better left unread.

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References:

TAOIST SORCERY: Chinese Planchette / Spirit Writing – Fu-Ji (扶乩)

The Strange Tale of How China Lost Its Ghost Stories 

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Zigu (紫姑): The Lady of the Latrine – China’s Most Unsettling Restroom Ghost and Goddess

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Coming with many different names, Zigu or the Lady of the Privy is said to haunt only one place, the toilet! Although her story started and perhaps ended as a ghost story, there was a time she was worshiped like a God. 

If you thought horror stories were confined to haunted houses and cursed forests, think again—because in Chinese folklore, even the bathroom isn’t safe. Meet Zigu (紫姑), also known as Maogu (茅姑), the Lady of the Latrine or the Third Daughter of the Latrine or the Purple Maiden. She’s China’s resident toilet ghost, a tragic spirit lingering in the most unglamorous of places. Calling her a simple ghost is not correct either, as she has been worshiped as a goddess in Chinese folk religion. 

Read More: Check out all ghost stories from China

While some ghosts haunt grand temples and eerie mansions, Zigu took up residence in the latrine—because apparently, even the afterlife has a dark sense of humor.

And before you write this off as some obscure legend, let’s be clear: toilet ghosts are a whole thing across many Asian cultures. From Japan’s Hanako-san to Korea’s Cheuksin, restrooms seem to be prime real estate for supernatural squatters. But Zigu? She’s one of the oldest, most sorrowful, and eerily venerated toilet ghosts in the game. Perhaps even being the spirit all other toilet ghosts are based on?

The Toilet Goddess of China: Zi gu shen (紫姑神, Chinese Goddess of the toilet) from the “三教源流搜神大全” (Chinese book)

Toilet Gods Across the World

The concept of a toilet god is not as rare as it seems today perhaps. This was a common household deity in both modern and ancient cultures. In Japan it was called Kawaya Kami, often said to be an old man holding a spear. In Korea the toilet god was Cheukshin, known as the young lady of the toilet with a perverse sense of humor. 

In New Zealand you had the atua spirits, focusing on the village latrine as the excrement was seen as the food of the dead. In ancient Rome there was Cloacina, the goddess of Rome’s sewage system, invoking her if the sewers became blocked. 

They are often associated with health, well-being and fertility. This is because of the history and association of human waste and agriculture. The toilets also used to be a dark and unpleasant place to be and there was a high risk of falling in and drowning, therefore a deity that would protect you was nice to have. 

The Legend of Zigu: A Tragic Spirit in the Most Unlikely Place

But unlike many of the other toilet Gods, the Chinese goddess could read like a classic ghost story. Zigu’s story, like many ghostly tales, is steeped in betrayal, suffering, and injustice. Some believe that her cult started in the Shanxi region in North China before spreading during the Tang dynasty (618-907). According to legend, she was a concubine in ancient China, caught in a tragic love triangle that ended in murder.

The Concubine’s Curse

Once upon a time, Zigu was a beautiful and kind-hearted young woman who became a concubine to a high-ranking official or, in some versions, a wealthy nobleman. But as you might expect, his first wife was not amused. The two women lived under the same roof, with Zigu as the younger, more favored companion. Naturally, the wife, seething with jealousy, decided to remove the competition—permanently.

One fateful day, the wife accused Zigu of misconduct, disobedience, or witchcraft, depending on the version of the story. The punishment? She was brutally murdered—but not in a grand hall or a hidden chamber. No, the first wife chose the latrine as the site of her demise, a final act of humiliation meant to degrade Zigu even in death. Her body was either drowned, strangled, or left to rot there, ensuring her restless soul would forever be bound to the filthiest corner of the household. Some versions say that she died of anger. 

And bound she was.

From Tragedy to Worship: The Rise of the Latrine Goddess

But here’s where the story takes a turn. Unlike most vengeful spirits, Zigu didn’t stay confined to whispered ghost stories—she became a deity. Toilet gods have been worshipped since the Six Dynasty Period, from early 3rd century AD to late 6th century AD in China. The toilet gods were very popular during the Tang and Song dynasty but have today almost disappeared. 

She was not the only toilet goddess, but she was certainly the most popular one. Over time, people began to worship her as a toilet goddess, seeking her blessings for cleanliness, good health, and even fortune-telling.

Yes, you read that right—people used to summon Zigu for divination. This was often done through Fu Ji, often called the Chinese Ouija Board. 

On the fifteenth day of the first lunar month, women, especially servants and concubines, would perform rituals to contact her spirit, hoping she would answer their questions about the future. She was a relatable goddess for commoners, and women under the patriarchal society. Some believed she had the power to predict misfortune or reveal hidden secrets. 

These rituals often involved lighting incense in the toilet, offering food, and chanting her name. They would make homemade dolls for her and pray to the doll. The motions of the doll were often manifested as automatic writing and used ad fortune telling. 

As far as the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644), women were putting faces and skirts on figurines and cleaning the outhouse to welcome here in Beijing. Her rituals died slowly, mostly in the 1930’s in the big cities, then in the 50 and 60s in the more rural areas. 

The Lantern Festival: Also known as Shangyuan Festival and Cap Go Meh, is a traditional Chinese festival celebrated on the fifteenth day of the first month in the lunar Chinese calendar, during the full moon. It usually falls in February or early March on the Gregorian calendar and marks the end of the Chinese New Year celebrations. As early as the Western Han dynasty (206 BC–AD 25), it was already a significant festival.

In Search of the Lady of the Privy’s True Story

Some believe that the true identity of Zigu was Consort Qi of the Han dynasty (221-206BC). She was born in Dingtao, Shandong and gave Emperor Gaozu a son, Liu Ruyi, who would become Prince of Zhao. The emperor tried many times to replace Liu Ruyi with the crown prince, Liu Ying unsuccessfully. This made the empress Lü Zhi, her mother, furious. 

Qi was said to be beautiful, a great songwriter and weiqi player, a game she played with the emperor in the bamboo forest on the north side of the palace every year. She would win each time and wish for good fortune for the Han dynasty. 

After the emperor died, Empress Lü Zhi became the dowager and her son took the throne, she had Qi arrested and imprisoned her, dressing her in prison garb, shaving her head and restraining her in stocks. 

She ended up killing both her son and Qi, cutting her limbs off, gouging her eyes, cutting off her tongue, nose, ears and forcing her to drink a poison making her mute and dumb. Then she locked her up in a pigsty and called her a human swine (人彘). 

China’s First Empress: She dominated the political scene for 15 years until her death in August 180 BC, and is often depicted as the first woman to have ruled China. Emperor Hui was shocked by his mother’s cruelty and fell sick for a year, and thereafter no longer became involved in state affairs, and gave more power to his mother. As a result, Empress Dowager Lü held the court, listened to the government, spoke on behalf of the emperor, and did everything .

It’s worth noting that most of the information about her comes from not so historically accurate sources. The tale of Empress Empress Lü Zhi, has often been used as an allegory for the supposed danger when women get power, and therefore Lady Qi could be nothing more than a part of that story. The earliest records of Zigu however is in the 5th volume of Yiyuan, A Garden of Marvels (《异苑》), a book of supernatural tales” by Liu Jingshu or Liu Song of the Southern dynasties (420–479).

Some say that her name was He Mingmei from Laiyang, Shandong.This was said to happen during Empress Wu Setian rule. The governor of Shouyang, Li Jing killed He Mei’s husband and looked at her as his concubine. This made her jealous of his chief wife. On the night of the 15th day of the first lunar month during the lantern Festival, Li Jing’s legitimate wife killed her in the toilet. 

Because He Mei died with resentment in her heart, she became a ghost. Li Jing often heard her crying when he went to the toilet. The Heavenly Court learned about this and established her as the god of toilets, elevating her from a mere ghost to a goddess. 

Who knows what the origin was. Some say that she was not only one person, but a collective of all concubines that had suffered and been maltreated.

Why Bathrooms? The Ghost in the Toilet Trope Across Asia

Zigu isn’t the only supernatural resident lurking around the lavatory—Asian folklore is practically overflowing with bathroom ghosts. There’s something about enclosed spaces, mirrors, and the vulnerability of, well, doing your business, that makes bathrooms the perfect setting for eerie encounters.

Other Famous Toilet Ghosts in Asia:

Japan’s Hanako-san (花子さん) – A little girl ghost who haunts school bathrooms. Knock on the third stall and call her name—if she answers, you might regret it.

South Korea’s Cheuksin (厠神, “Bathroom Goddess”) – A spirit with long hair who lives in the toilet and hates it when you look at her. She’s known to attack people who disturb her.

Japan’s Aka Manto (赤マント) – a malevolent spirit lurking in school bathroom asking if you need red or blue paper. Either choices will leave you dead.

Zigu’s Legacy: The Haunting Echoes of the Past

Zigu’s story is more than just a spooky legend—it reflects the historical oppression of women, particularly concubines and servants, who were often treated as disposable. Her transformation from a murdered woman to a revered deity highlights a shift in how people perceived her suffering. By worshiping her, women acknowledged the injustices she endured and sought her spiritual guidance in a world that rarely gave them power.

Ancient Traditions Dying: Zigu as portrayed in Researches into Chinese Superstitions, a book written by French missionary Henri Doré in 1914 (Fotoe)

Even today, remnants of Zigu’s legacy remain in Chinese culture. While her direct worship has faded, older generations still tell her tale, and echoes of her presence linger in the ghost stories passed down through families.

And who knows? Maybe, late at night, when the wind rattles through an old house and the pipes groan unexpectedly, Zigu is still watching from the shadows of the restroom, waiting for someone to remember her name.

And if you hear a whisper in the stillness, well…

You might not be as alone as you think.

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References:

Consort Qi (Han dynasty) – Wikipedia

Zigu – Wikipedia 

Toilet god – Wikipedia 

On Her Porcelain Throne: How a Little-Known “Toilet Goddess” Became an Icon for Powerless Women