You’ve probably seen the flashy trailers for Creation of the Gods I: Kingdom of Storms or maybe you’ve played a game where a guy with a third eye and a dog beats up demons. That’s Erlang Shen. And that story? It’s all part of the Investiture of the Gods, or Fengshen Yanyi. Honestly, if you think Game of Thrones has a high body count or complex politics, you haven't seen anything yet. This Ming Dynasty epic is basically the foundational DNA for Chinese fantasy. It’s messy. It’s violent. It’s weirdly bureaucratic.
Most people think it’s just a fairy tale about gods. It isn't.
At its core, the Investiture of the Gods is a fictionalized account of the fall of the Shang Dynasty (around 1046 BC) and the rise of the Zhou. But instead of just boring tax disputes and infantry formations, the author—widely believed to be Xu Zhonglin, though scholars still bicker about that—decided to throw in every deity, demon, and immortal in the Chinese pantheon.
The Fox Spirit That Ruined an Empire
The whole plot kicks off because King Zhou of Shang is a jerk. He visits a temple of the goddess Nüwa and writes a lewd poem on the wall. Imagine spray-painting a "for a good time call..." message on a cathedral. Nüwa, understandably livid, sends a thousand-year-old fox spirit to possess the King’s concubine, Daji.
Daji is the ultimate "femme fatale," but dialed up to eleven. She doesn't just distract the king; she invents torture devices. We’re talking about the Paoluo, a hollow bronze cylinder filled with burning charcoal that prisoners were forced to hug. It’s grim stuff. But here’s the nuance most people miss: Daji was technically on a mission from a goddess. She just went rogue because she liked the taste of palace life (and human hearts).
The Investiture of the Gods isn't just a story of good vs. evil. It’s a story of "Heavenly Fate." The gods already decided the Shang were done. The war was just the messy process of clearing out the old guard to make room for the new.
Jiang Ziya: The Greatest Late Bloomer in History
If you feel like you’re behind in your career, look at Jiang Ziya. In the Investiture of the Gods, he’s a 72-year-old man who spent his life studying Taoist magic on Mount Kunlun and has basically nothing to show for it. He’s a failed businessman. His wife leaves him because he’s broke.
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He spends his days fishing with a straight needle and no bait, inches above the water. When people ask what he’s doing, he says he’s waiting for a "big fish" who wants to be caught. That fish was King Wen of Zhou.
Jiang Ziya is the tactical brain behind the rebellion. He isn't some young warrior; he’s a grumpy old man with a magical wooden whip and a mount that looks like a mix of four different animals. He represents the idea that wisdom and patience outlast brute force. Most modern adaptations, like the 2019 TV series or the Nezha cinematic universe, tend to make him more "action-movie cool," but the book version is much more relatable in his grumpiness.
Nezha and the Body Horror You Weren't Expecting
We need to talk about Nezha. He’s the poster child for the Investiture of the Gods. Most kids in China grow up with the cute version—the boy with the red sash and the fire wheels.
The original text? It’s pure body horror.
Nezha is born as a ball of flesh. His dad, Li Jing, thinks it's a demon and hacks it open with a sword, and a fully formed boy jumps out. Later, after Nezha kills the son of the Dragon King, he commits ritual suicide to save his family, literally carving his flesh from his bones to "return" his body to his parents. His mentor later resurrects him using lotus roots and stalks. This isn't Disney. It’s a brutal exploration of filial piety and the price of reincarnation.
Why the "Investiture" Part Actually Matters
The title Investiture of the Gods refers to the very end of the war. After thousands of soldiers, immortals, and demons have slaughtered each other, Jiang Ziya stands at the "Platform of Canonization."
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He reads out a list.
Every person who died in the war—even the villains, even the treacherous Daji—is given a job in the celestial bureaucracy. One guy becomes the god of the North Star. Another becomes the god of smallpox. Someone else gets the "Toilet God" gig (honestly, a rough draw).
This is a uniquely Chinese concept. Divinity isn't always about being "holy"; it's about holding an office. The universe is a giant government department. If you were a great general in life, you're a great general in the afterlife. This structure allowed the common people to categorize the chaotic world around them. If there's a god for it, there's a rule for it.
Common Misconceptions About the Text
- It’s not a religious text. While it uses Taoist and Buddhist figures, it’s a shenmo novel—fantasy fiction. Treating it like a Bible is like treating Paradise Lost as a literal historical record.
- The "Good Guys" aren't always good. The Zhou army uses some pretty questionable tactics, and the immortals supporting them are often arrogant and elitist.
- It’s not just one book. Over centuries, different versions and oral traditions added layers. What we read now is a curated "greatest hits" of Chinese mythology.
The Modern Revival: Why We See It Everywhere Now
In the last five years, there has been a massive surge in Investiture of the Gods adaptations. Why now?
Because of the "Fengshen Cinematic Universe." Movies like Ne Zha (2019) shattered box office records by reimagining these ancient characters for a modern audience that cares about individual agency versus destiny. In the old books, you did what the gods said because that was the law. In modern retellings, Nezha screams, "My fate is mine to decide!"
That shift in tone is why the Investiture of the Gods is trending again. It’s no longer just a dusty old record of names; it’s a playground for exploring rebellion, trauma, and identity.
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Real-World Locations You Can Visit
If you want to see where the history meets the myth, you head to Henan province.
- Yinxu (Anyang): These are the actual ruins of the Shang capital. You can see the oracle bones that the real King Zhou would have used to divine the future.
- Jiang Ziya’s Fishing Platform: There are several spots claiming to be the place, but the one in Shaanxi is the most famous. It’s a bit of a tourist trap, but the vibe is there.
How to Get Into the Story Without Reading 100 Chapters
Let’s be real: the original 16th-century text can be a slog. It’s repetitive. There are long poems describing every single character's outfit. If you want the "vibe" without the homework, start elsewhere.
Watch the 2023 film Creation of the Gods I: Kingdom of Storms. It’s basically the Chinese Lord of the Rings. It focuses on the relationship between the young warriors and the tyrant King Zhou, making it feel much more grounded and human. Or, play Black Myth: Wukong. While that's technically Journey to the West, many of the characters and the "world rules" are shared with the Investiture of the Gods.
Actionable Next Steps
If you're looking to dive deeper into this world, don't just buy the first translation you see on Amazon. Some are heavily abridged and lose the flavor.
- Look for the Guanzhong translation. It’s considered one of the more complete English versions.
- Watch the 1990 TV series. If you can handle "Power Rangers" level special effects and 90s hair, it’s actually the most faithful to the book’s weirdness.
- Compare the "Three Greats." To really understand Chinese lore, you need to see how the Investiture of the Gods (the beginning of the gods) connects to Journey to the West (the peak of the gods) and Romance of the Three Kingdoms (the history of men).
The Investiture of the Gods isn't just a relic. It's a living, breathing mythos that keeps getting updated for every new generation. Whether it's a mobile game or a $100 million blockbuster, the story of 365 new gods being minted from the fires of war remains the most epic "reset button" in literary history.