A Marriage Turned Upside Down

In the vast tapestry of Chinese marital customs, few traditions provoke as much curiosity—or stigma—as the zhaixu (赘婿), the live-in son-in-law. Unlike conventional marriages where brides joined their husbands’ households, this arrangement flipped the script: men “married into” their wives’ families, shouldering domestic roles typically reserved for women. Derisively nicknamed daochamen (倒插门, “reverse insertion”) in modern slang, the zhaixu system exposed deep tensions between patriarchy, poverty, and property across two millennia.

The term itself reveals its humble origins. Zhai (赘) originally meant “to pawn” in ancient texts like Shuowen Jiezi, referring to sons sold by destitute families as indentured laborers—a practice called zhaizi (赘子). By the Warring States period (475–221 BCE), these “pawned sons” evolved into zhaixu, grooms whose status hovered near servitude.

From Qin Dynasty Coercion to Tang-Song Pragmatism

The zhaixu system gained legal traction under the Qin’s notorious Shang Yang reforms (4th century BCE). To boost population, the state mandated household splits upon sons’ marriages—a policy that backfired for the poor. Impoverished bachelors, unable to afford brides, were incentivized to become zhaixu in wealthier homes. Unsurprisingly, society scorned these men as failures.

Attitudes softened post-Tang Dynasty (618–907 CE), as meritocracy diluted aristocratic prejudices. Ambitious scholars even leveraged zhaixu status for upward mobility. The poet Li Bai famously married into two chancellor families, flaunting his unconventional path with characteristic flair. Yet such cases were exceptions; most zhaixu faced systemic discrimination.

Two Paths to Matrilocal Marriage

### Brides Without Brothers: The Heiress Scenario
The primary zhaixu arrangement addressed a dire concern: hujue (户绝), or “lineage extinction.” Families without sons risked losing ancestral rites and property to predatory relatives—unless a daughter brought in a groom. The couple’s children would inherit the wife’s surname and estate, preserving the bloodline.

### Widows and “Footstep Husbands”
Less common were jiejiaofu (接脚夫), widowers marrying into bereaved households. Yuan drama The Injustice to Dou E dramatized this practice, where a widow’s new groom shielded her from asset grabs. These men often entered as caretakers rather than equals.

Contractual Servitude: Lifelong vs. Term-Limited Grooms

Yanglao nuxu (养老女婿): Permanent zhaixu surrendered their surnames and lineage rights entirely.
Nianxian nuxu (年限女婿): Term-limited grooms served 3–22 years (typically a decade) before “returning to ancestry” (guizong), though children stayed with the wife’s family. Some earned severance pay, echoing ancient “brideservice” customs.

The Groom’s Grim Reality

Contrary to rosy modern portrayals like the TV series The Story of the Zhaixu, historical records paint a bleak picture.

### Domestic Disempowerment
Zhaixu endured relentless scrutiny. Wives could deny conjugal rights; concubines were unthinkable. Song Dynasty slang mocked them as budai (布袋)—either “lineage patches” (budai as homophone for 补代) or “men suffocating in cloth sacks,” symbolizing oppression.

### Legal and Economic Persecution
Qin bamboo slips from Shuihudi reveal zhaixu were barred from:
– Land allocations
– Civil service exams (until their grandsons’ generation)
– Concealing their status in registries

Han Emperor Wu conscripted them for frontier duty under the “Seven Categories of Exiles,” ranking zhaixu alongside criminals.

### Inheritance Battles
Even “permanent” zhaixu rarely secured full estates. A Northern Song case saw a judge override a will granting 70% to a zhaixu, fearing the groom would murder his toddler brother-in-law for the remainder.

Love vs. Survival: Rare Exceptions

While most zhaixu marriages were transactions, Qing-era records mention a Li Sheng who willingly joined his beloved’s family—proving even rigid systems couldn’t extinguish all romance.

Legacy: From Stigma to Screen

Today, zhaixu narratives resonate in China’s gender-equality debates. The tradition’s decline mirrors shifting attitudes toward surname laws and marital agency—yet its echoes linger in modern “matrilocal” marriages. Once a byword for humiliation, the zhaixu now symbolizes both the rigidity of ancient hierarchies and the quiet rebellions that softened them.