Chinese businesswoman Sara Zhang, who emigrated to Spain with her family 22 years ago, mentions that her mother has hired a mourner to cry at the graves of her grandparents, buried in a cemetery on the outskirts of Wenzhou city, southern China. She has paid 800 yuan, which is around 100 euros, for a 40-minute service in which the professional mourner kneels in front of the grave, cleans it, cries, recites condolences, and leaves flowers. All of this is broadcast live for the family thousands of kilometers away.
"It is the Qingming Festival, the Tomb-Sweeping Day, something like the Day of the Dead in China. Many families visit the graves, clean them, and make offerings. My mother, who is an only child, has great respect for these traditions, which she has followed since she was young. Since we are in Spain, for the past three years she has been hiring women online to pay tribute to my grandparents," explains Sara.
The origin of Qingming dates back to the Zhou dynasty (1046-256 BC), when it was established as a day to honor ancestors and keep the family memory alive. For centuries, Confucian and Taoist practices have been mixed: food is offered, incense and symbolic paper money are burned to "renew" the bond between the living and the dead. In modern China, the festival remains one of the most important moments in the calendar for millions of families, especially in rural areas.
On Taobao, Alibaba's e-commerce platform, it is possible to hire services ranging from basic tomb cleaning for 80 yuan (10 euros) to complete packages of the so-called kusang, which literally means "crying and shouting," for 1,500 yuan, around 200 euros. These amplified emotions are considered essential in many villages, especially in the interior of the country: it is not enough to show sorrow, but mourning must be a loud and visual spectacle.
"I receive calls from grieving families who cannot visit cemeteries. I usually light candles, leave flowers, and burn fake money as part of the ritual," said Lin, a "grave sweeper" from Henan province, to the local newspaper Dahe Daily.
In Chongqing city, 53-year-old actress Hu Xinglian earns extra income as a professional mourner. "Our entrance into the world is extraordinarily dramatic and noisy, so our exit should be the same," she explained in an interview. For half an hour of crying at a funeral, Hu charges around 250 euros. Another actor, Li Silin, who is also a traditional opera singer from Shanxi, is hired to perform funeral chants while crying at ceremonies.
The professionalization of mourning has deep roots in local culture. In many corners of this vast country, death remains a community event of great impact, and the absence of relatives who migrated to other provinces or outside of China has created a market for those who can represent grief convincingly.
Although those who practice this profession acknowledge its dark side. In a deeply superstitious society, being close to the dead arouses suspicion. Some mourners say they are rarely invited to weddings or gatherings with friends, and even at family dinners, they are avoided for fear of transmitting bad luck due to their job being connected with death.
The work also requires interpretative skills. As reported in an article by the local newspaper Southern Metropolis Daily, many mourners are unemployed actors who have turned lamentation into art. They must cry convincingly, speak comforting words to the living, and in some cases, lead the ceremony in a way that the community perceives respect and solemnity. "A funeral without tears seems incomplete", comments a mourner from Guizhou province. "Our grief should be felt in every corner of the cemetery."
The demand for these services is also a symptom of social changes. Migration to cities and abroad has physically separated many families from their roots for decades, while work pressure and urban pace reduce the time for traditional rituals. Online platforms now allow a daughter in Spain to order a ritual cry in Wenzhou, thus maintaining a symbolic connection with her ancestors.
Although the phenomenon often sparks debates on social media about the authenticity and meaning of the ritual. For some, the hired mourning may seem very artificial; for others, it is a pragmatic solution that allows ancient traditions to be kept alive.
In Wenzhou, as the mourner bows in front of Sara's grandparents' grave, her tears are seen from Madrid because the hired woman records everything with her mobile phone, which she places on a small tripod. The mourning thus becomes a performance, but the essence remains the same: the human need to honor the dead, even from a distance.