A Chinese man who cryogenically preserved his deceased wife has ignited a moral debate after revealing he has been dating a new partner while his wife remains frozen. The situation raises profound questions about love, loss, and the ethics of emerging technologies in personal relationships.
Gui Junmin, now 57, made the decision to cryogenically freeze his wife, Zhan Wenlian, after she died from lung cancer in 2017 at age 49. She became China’s first cryogenically preserved person, stored in a 2,000-liter container filled with liquid nitrogen at -190°C at the Shandong Yinfeng Life Science Research Institute. Junmin signed a 30-year agreement with the institute, hoping that future medical advances could one day revive and cure her. This act was initially seen as a extreme gesture of devotion and hope in the face of terminal illness.
Cryonics involves cooling the entire body to sub-zero temperatures and infusing it with cryoprotectants to prevent ice crystal formation, then preserving it in liquid nitrogen. The practice is scientifically unproven, and no human has ever been successfully revived after cryopreservation. Globally, over 500 people have undergone this procedure, primarily in the United States, but it remains a speculative field with remote possibilities of success. Scientists caution that reviving a complete human body is still a distant prospect, though cryonics is used on a smaller scale in medicine for preserving cells like sperm and embryos.
After living alone for two years following his wife’s preservation, Junmin began dating Wang Chunxia in 2020. He attributed this shift to a severe gout attack that left him immobile and alone for days, highlighting the practical need for companionship and care. Despite entering this new relationship, Junmin has consistently stated that Wang has not “entered his heart” and described their bond as “utilitarian.” He emphasized that she cannot replace his late wife, whom he remains committed to in memory and through the ongoing cryopreservation.
The revelation of Junmin’s new relationship emerged in November 2025 through Chinese media reports, sparking a heated debate on social media platforms like Weibo. Some users expressed sympathy, arguing that after eight years, it is reasonable for him to seek companionship and move forward with his life. Others criticized his actions as selfish, questioning the fairness to both his frozen wife and his new partner, with one commenter labeling it “emotional polygamy.” This division reflects broader societal tensions over mourning, loyalty, and the boundaries of personal relationships.
Junmin continues to keep photographs of Zhan Wenlian in his home and maintains that he has a responsibility to her preservation, even as he navigates his current relationship. The Shandong Yinfeng Institute reports that Wenlian’s body is in stable condition, with no abnormal fluctuations in cellular structure, though she remains clinically deceased. This case underscores the emotional complexities faced by individuals who engage with cryonics, balancing hope for the future with the realities of present life and human connections.
The debate surrounding Junmin’s actions highlights ethical considerations about cryonics, including its impact on grief and family dynamics. It challenges traditional norms of devotion and raises questions about whether technological preservation should influence personal choices like dating. As cryonics gains attention, this story serves as a catalyst for discussions on how society adapts to emerging sciences that blur the lines between life and death, and how individuals reconcile past commitments with present needs in an increasingly technologically mediated world.
