You Benchang, Beloved ‘Ji Gong’ Actor, Dies at 93
You Benchang, the veteran Chinese actor whose portrayal of the eccentric Buddhist monk Ji Gong became a defining image of national popular culture, died of illness in Beijing in the early morning of September 24, 2026. He was 93.
His death was announced by the China National Theatre, where he was a National First-Class Actor, and reported by Xinhua News. A daughter, You Sihan, told the outlet Yizhan that his final moments were peaceful. “My father had no illness or pain; he simply passed away in his sleep,” she said. “Extremely peaceful — he even had a birthday a few days earlier and had no wishes. He said he felt very happy. His last words were ‘I’m very comfortable.’”
A life on the stage
Born in 1933 in the Hailing District of Taizhou, Jiangsu Province, You trained at the Shanghai Theatre Academy, from which he graduated in 1956 before joining the Central Experimental Drama Theatre — the institution now known as the China National Theatre, according to Guancha.
For nearly three decades, his career was defined not by stardom but by endurance. As the People’s Daily recounted in a 2024 profile, he played 79 roles over that period, almost all of them minor or walk-on parts. Rather than resent the anonymity, he embraced it with an unusual seriousness: preparing for a wordless bit part as an old serf in the play The Thunderstorm, he read nineteen books to understand the character’s dress, habits and psychology. A review afterward called it “a classic walk-on.”
“Self-knowledge is an actor’s basic quality,” You reflected. Borrowing a term from Beijing opera, he resolved to become a “hard-core supporting player” — a yinglizi whose craft lent luster to even the smallest role.
The role that made him a household name
In 1984, You performed a mime piece titled “Shower” at the CCTV Spring Festival Gala, per the outlet Nan’guo Morning Post. The following year, at 52, he finally landed his first lead role: the folk-hero monk Ji Gong in the television series The Mad Monk. Clad in a tattered hat and clutching a broken fan, he embodied a Song-dynasty figure revered for using unorthodox methods to aid the poor.
As the People’s Daily profile noted, Ji Gong became his “eightieth role” — and the one with which he would be forever identified, much as Six Little Zhang is bound to Sun Wukong and Zhao Yazhi to the White Snake. His refusal to simply repeat the folklore paid off: when a scene had the monk greedily grab buns from a vendor, You suggested a small addition — that Ji Gong toss coins back afterward — restoring the character’s generosity while modernizing his values. In 1986 he won Best Actor at the fourth Golden Eagle Awards for the part. The jaunty theme song, “his shoes are torn, his hat is torn, his cassock is torn,” became an indelible memory for generations of Chinese children.
A late, luminous second peak
Decades later, at an age when most performers have long retired, You re-entered the national spotlight. On his 87th birthday, he received an invitation from director Wong Kar-wai to join the series Blossoms Shanghai, and — though the production would not cover his travel — insisted on auditioning in person.
Cast as “Uncle,” a godfather-like figure from old Shanghai, he delivered a performance that critics and audiences alike praised as transcendent. A single look he gave in one scene was said to convey “a century of Shanghai.” The show, which aired in 2023, made him wildly popular once more.
Filming was not easy. The Nan’guo Morning Post report noted that the shoot ran for three years, and that even at 90 You often worked ten-hour days. He nonetheless dismissed any talk of a “health regimen.” The People’s Daily profile quoted his reply when asked how he stayed well: “I need a long life, because I have goals and still a lot to do.” In a line that became a favorite of Chinese audiences, he described his career as a series of summits: “Ji Gong is one peak, and Uncle is another; life is like climbing a mountain — you summit one and move to the next, peak after peak.”
In 2024 he was awarded the “Lifetime Achievement Artist” honor at the second China TV Drama Annual Ceremony. “I’m so happy!” he said, urging younger generations onward: “As long as you keep moving forward, you will surely be seen!”
A philanthropist and a late convert to the Party
You’s off-screen legacy was as deliberate as his craft. He sold his homes twice to fund productions — once in 2006 to finance the public-interest drama Liao Fan, and again in 2009, when at 76 he sold his only Beijing residence to stage the play Master Hong Yi. “What’s wrong with selling a house?” he asked with characteristic cheer. “It’s right — it shows I had a house to sell. How did I get it? Ji Gong gave it to me… it came from Ji Gong and returns to society.”
He devoted his later years to arts education, teaching acting voluntarily at a Beijing primary school for eight years, founding an art troupe for students who had failed arts-college entrance exams, and establishing the Ji Gong Public Welfare Foundation in 2018. The People’s Daily profile noted that he and his daughter also launched the “Seed Project,” which sent teachers into more than 50 rural primary schools across ten counties, reaching over 30,000 teachers and students. He believed arts education could “reshape lives.” Long nursing a wish to join the Communist Party of China, he submitted his application in early 2024 and was approved as a probationary member in May 2025, a milestone carried prominently in his official obituary, including in the account by Sina News.
‘One drop of water’
In 1987, You broke his foot in a fall while performing in Singapore — a fracture he described as pulverizing — and still took the stage the next day. He traced that stoicism to the legendary opera performer Gai Jiaotian, who finished a performance on a broken leg, and to a principle he never abandoned: “The play is bigger than heaven.”
His philosophy of art was, in the end, one of service. Asked why he could work without weariness, he gave an answer that has been widely quoted since his death: “One drop of water only never dries up when it merges into the sea.”
He is survived by his son and daughter. Tributes poured in from audiences and colleagues across China, many sharing the same refrain from the theme song of The Mad Monk — and the same farewell: on screen, the nation’s monk had taken his final bow.