“Women in rural areas often see religion as a way to express their inner thoughts.”

— Wang Yu

In 2014, China Newsweek interviewed a 39-year-old woman who had spent 12 years in the cult before breaking free. She recalled the relentless pressure to donate her savings and provide shelter for other members, it’s one of the many ways the cult demanded “unwavering devotion”.

By 2011, the Church of Almighty God had begun aggressively pushing apocalyptic prophecies (translator’s note: in 2012, illegal proselytizing activities reached their peak), using footage and images from the 2008 Wenchuan earthquake as “evidence” to claimed the disaster was a divine warning of impending doom.

Followers were forced to watch these harrowing images repeatedly. One particular scene, a half-buried corpse being dragged from the rubble, haunted the woman for years. She told China Newsweek: “I had nightmares every night, dreaming that I was vomiting blood and dying.” From that point on, she believed that every misfortune that befell her and her family was divine retribution for failing to be a more devout believer and for not fully fulfilling her obligations of total dedication to the cult.

Wang Yu elaborates: “Women in rural areas, especially older ones, often struggle to adapt to new things. That’s why they see religion as a way to express their inner thoughts. Many of them are not truly interested in understanding their faith on a deeper level. For them, it’s more about emotional release.”

For Wang Xiaoping, he believes that his wife joined the Church of Almighty God cult and left their 7-year-old son because of her naivety. The very trait that first drew him to her—left her vulnerable to the cult’s influence.

He doesn’t know exactly when she was recruited, but in 2019, she vanished Chongqing, leaving behind him and their seven-year-old son.

Wallpaper in Wang Xiaoping and his missing wife’s bedroom, Chongqing, September 2020. (Photo credit: Sixth Tone)

Wang and his wife met online at the age of 29. Their whirlwind romance led to marriage and a child. The couple then left their hometown to work factory jobs in the eastern city Hangzhou.

 After two years, she returned to their hometown to care for their son while Wang stayed in the city for work. In rural China, it is common for children to be raised by their grandparents while the father works in the city to support the family. At the time, Wang saw nothing wrong with this arrangement.

However, he recalls that his mother-in-law had always been religious. When the couple first moved in together, she had handed him a “Bible-like” book filled with cryptic religious phrases. His vague memory of the book includes words like “God” “Lamb” and some lyrics.

“Looking back, I wish I had seen the signs,” Wang said. “I had heard that the Church of Almighty God had followers in nearby villages. Then one day, my wife told me she wanted to attend a few days of their gatherings. When she started believing in it, I was completely shocked.”

“I can’t quite remember... but I think she said something about waiting for her to come back.”

—Wang Xiaoping, husband of the Church of Almighty God follower

Shock quickly gave way to worries. Wang Xiaoping rushed home, desperate to persuade his wife to turn away from the Church of Almighty God.

He had always sensed the danger in it. But his intervention was futile. Furious, his wife grabbed her suitcase and left for her mother’s house, just as she always did after their arguments.

As Wang sifted through their old photos, he murmured, “Despite the occasional fights, we were always happy together.” In one of the pictures, she wore her hair in straight bangs, her smile radiant and carefree.

Still believing she would come to her senses, Wang returned to work the next day, leaving her behind. On the train back to Hangzhou, his phone rang, it was her. “Take care of yourself,” she told him, “Focus on work. Don’t overthink things.” Then, she added something he could barely remember, it was something about waiting for her to come back. That was their last conversation. His voice trails off into a whisper.

In the end, Wang doesn’t know whom to blame. His mother-in-law, perhaps? He suspects she was the one who led his wife into the cult.

But what haunts him most is the uncertainty, whether she will ever return. For now, life moves forward, as it must. He has left their son in the care of his parents and returned to Hangzhou, working to make ends meet. Yet beneath the routine, the questions linger.

In September 2020, in Chongqing, Wang Xiaoping and his son stood outside their home. (Photo credit: Sixth Tone)

Wang Xiaoping sighed, “Last year, my son spent his birthday with his mother. Now, he’s asking me to find him a new one.” This September (2020), Wang took a few days off work to stay with his son. His greatest concern was the boy’s grades. Fortunately, his parents were still in good health, able to help care for the child.

Meanwhile, Long Daibing, another victim of the cult’s devastation, made a decision—he quit his job in Shanghai and could stay home to look after their school-aged child and his elderly parents.

He has long since given up searching for his wife. In the corner of his room, a stack of missing person flyers gathers dust. “I can’t focus on anything anymore. I can’t sleep at night. After all, we were together for more than 20 years.”

As for Chen Xin, though he has long abandoned the hope of reuniting with his wife, he remains committed to combating the cult through his Anti-Almighty God Alliance. “My life has moved forward,” he said.

And yet, in his words, he seemed to have not truly come to terms with her departure. “Back then, I did everything I could. Now, I know so much more. If this happened today, I would have found a way to stop it. But it’s too late.”