Yearnings

Published

4 months ago

June 29, 2025

From China’s first soap opera to the rise of AI-fueled nostalgia

Dear Reader,

The year is 1990, and the streets of Beijing’s Fangshan District are eerily quiet. You can almost hear a pin drop in the petrochemical town, as tens of thousands of workers and their families huddle around their televisions, all tuned to the same channel for something groundbreaking: China’s very first soap opera, Yearnings (渴望 Kěwàng).

Yearnings tells the story of Liu Huifang (刘慧芳), a female factory worker from a traditional working-class family in Beijing, and her unlikely marriage to university graduate Wang Husheng (王沪生), who comes from a family of intellectuals. When Liu finds an abandoned baby girl, she adopts her and raises her as her own, against her husband’s wishes.

The couple is unaware that the foundling is actually the illegitimate child of Wang’s snobbish sister, Yaru. After Liu and Wang have a biological son, the marriage comes under further pressure, eventually leading to divorce. Liu is left as a single mother, raising two children on her own.

Still from Yearnings, via OurChinaStory.

Drawing inspiration from foreign dubbed television shows, Yearnings was produced as China’s first truly domestic, long-form indoor television drama. Spanning 50 episodes, the series traces a timeline from the onset of the Cultural Revolution in the 1960s through to the late 1980s—one of the most turbulent periods in modern Chinese history.

Before the series aired nationally on CCTV and achieved record viewership, the first station to air Yearnings in the Beijing region was the Yanshan Petrochemical TV Station (燕山石化电视台), China’s first major factory TV station (厂办电视台) located in Fangshan District.

Here, in this town of over 100,000, Yearnings garnered an astonishing and unprecedented 98% audience share.

The series was truly groundbreaking and became a national sensation—not just because it was China’s first long-form television drama, or because it was a locally produced drama that challenged the long-standing monopoly of state broadcaster CCTV, but because Yearnings marked a major shift in television storytelling.

Until then, Chinese TV stories had always revolved around communist propaganda, or featured great heroes of the revolution. Yearnings, on the other hand, was devoid of political content and focused on the hopes and dreams of ordinary people and their everyday struggles—love, desire, marital tension, single motherhood—topics that had never before been so openly portrayed on Chinese television.

The show’s creators had perfectly tapped into what was changing: the Communist Party was slowly withdrawing from private life, and people were beginning to see themselves less defined by their work unit and more by their home life—as consumers, as partners and parents, as citizens of a new China filled with aspirations for the future. Yearnings’ storyline was a reflection of that.

Chinese-Style “Nostalgia Core”

Yearnings marked a cultural turning point, coinciding with the rapid spread of TV sets in Chinese households. In 1992, economic reforms triggered a new era in which Chinese media became increasingly commercialized and thriving, before the arrival of the internet, social media, and AI tools once again changed everything.

Today, Yearnings still is a topic that often comes up in Chinese online media. On apps like Douyin, old scenes from Yearnings are reposted and receive thousands of shares.

📌 It’s emblematic of a broader trend in which more netizens are turning to “nostalgia-core.” In Chinese, this trend is known as “中式梦核” (Zhōngshì Mènghé), which literally means “Chinese-style dreamcore.”

Dreamcore is an internet aesthetic and visual style—popular in online communities like Tumblr and Reddit—that blends elements of nostalgia, surrealism, and subconscious imagery. Mixing retro images with fantasy, it evokes a sense of familiarity, yet often feels unsettling and deserted.

The Chinese-style dreamcore (中式梦核), which has become increasingly popular platforms like Bilibili since 2023-2024, is different from its Western counterpart in how it incorporates distinctly Chinese elements and specifically evokes the childhood experiences of the millennial generation. Content tagged as “Chinese-style dreamcore” on Chinese social media is often also labeled with terms like “nostalgia” (怀旧), “childhood memories” (童年回忆), and “when we were little” (小时候).

According to the blogging account Yatong Local Life Observer (娅桐本地生活观察), the focus on the millennial childhood can be explained because the formative years of this generation coincided with a decade of rapid social change in China —leaving little in today’s modern cities that still evokes that era.

🌀 Of course, millennials in the West also frequently look back at their childhood and teenage years, particularly the 1980s and 1990s—a trend also embraced by Gen Z, who romanticize these years through media and fashion. In China, however, Gen Z is at the forefront of the “nostalgia-core” trend, reflecting on the 1990s and early 2000s as a distant, almost dreamlike past. This sense of distance is heightened by China’s staggering pace of transformation, modernization, and digitalization over the past decades, which has made even the recent past feel remote and irretrievable.

🌀 Another factor contributing to the trend is that China’s younger generations are caught in a rat race of academic and professional competition, often feeling overwhelmed by the fast pace of life and the weight of societal expectations. In this high-pressure environment—captured by the concept of “involution” (内卷)—young people develop various coping mechanisms, and digital escapism, including nostalgia-core, is one of them. It’s like a cyber-utopia (赛博乌托邦).

🌀 Due to the rise of AI tools available to the general public, Chinese-style nostalgia core has hit the mainstream because it’s now possible for all social media users to create their own nostalgic videos and images—bringing back the 1990s and early 2000s through AI-generated tools, either by making real videos appear more nostalgic or by creating entirely fictional videos or images that recreate scenes from those days.

So what are we seeing? There are images and videos of stickers kids used to love, visuals showing old classrooms, furniture, and children playing outside, accompanied by captions such as “we’re already so far apart from our childhood years.”

And notably, there are videos and images showing family and friends gathering around those old big TVs as a cultural, ritualized activity (see some examples here).

Stills from ‘nostalgia core’ videos.

These kinds of AI-generated videos depict a pre-mobile-era family life, where families and communities would gather around the TV—both inside and outside—from classrooms to family homes. The wind blows through the windows, neighbors crack sunflower seeds, and children play on the ground. Ironically, it’s AI that is bringing back the memories of a society that was not yet digitalized.

Nowadays, with dozens of short video apps, streaming platforms, and livestream culture fully mainstream in China—and AI algorithms personalizing feeds to the extreme—it sometimes feels like everyone’s on a different channel, quite literally.

In times like these, people long for an era when life seemed less complicated—when, instead of everyone staring at their own screens, families and neighbors gathered around one screen together.

There’s not just irony in the fact that it took AI for netizens to visualize their longing for a bygone era; there’s also a deeper irony in how Yearnings once represented a time when people were looking forward to the future—only to find that the future is now looking back, yearning for the days of Yearnings.

It seems we’re always looking back, reminiscing about the years behind us with a touch of nostalgia. We’re more digitalized than ever, yet somehow less connected. We yearn for a time when everyone was watching the same screen, at the same time, together, just like in 1990. Perhaps it’s time for another Yearnings.

Sorry I’ve been a bit quiet these past two weeks. Besides diving into Chinese media trends—as I mentioned in the last newsletter—I’ve also been taking care of my cat, who suddenly fell ill and, sadly, passed away within the course of a week.

Somewhat coincidentally, Tabu’s death came just as I had started reading a new book on the cultural history of cats in China. And unlike Chinese media, which is constantly changing, I was struck by how one thing seems to stay the same—even across centuries: the grief of a cat owner losing their companion. A Ming Dynasty scholar once wept for his lost kitten much like I’ve done this week.

中国撸猫简史; A Brief History of Cat-Petting in China (2024).

I’m planning to dive more into literature-related topics on the site soon, and I’ll definitely share more about that fascinating book. Somehow, knowing that people in dynastic China mourned their beloved cats just as deeply as we do today makes the loss feel a little more bearable.

See you next week,

Best,
Manya

Some Sources

Koetse, Manya. 2016. “From Woman Warrior to Good Wife – Confucian Influences on the Portrayal of Women in China’s Television Drama.” In Stefania Travagnin (ed), Religion and Media in China. New York: Routledge.

Rofel, Lisa B. 1994. Yearnings: Televisual Love and Melodramatic Politics in Contemporary China. American Ethnologist 21(4):700-722.

Wang, Dan (汪丹). 2018. “《渴望》的艺术价值” [The Artistic Value of Yearnings].” Originally published in Beijing Daily (北京日报), October 12, 2018. Reprinted in Digest News (文摘报), October 20, 06 edition. Also see Sohu: 当年红遍大江南北的《渴望》.

Wang Min and Arvind Singhal. 1992. “Kewang, a Chinese television soap opera with a message.” Gazette 49: 177-192.

Zhuge Kanwu. 2021. “重温1990《渴望》：苦得“刘慧芳”希望被导演写“死” [Revisiting 1990’s Yearnings: The Suffering Liu Huifang Hoped to Be Written Off by the Director]. Zhuge Dushu Wu (诸葛读书屋), January 22. https://wapbaike.baidu.com/tashuo/browse/content?id=b699ee532cf79f862bfa14ad.

What’s Trending

Popular topics at a glance

This was a week people in Rongjiang County certainly won’t forget and will become part of the region’s collective memory, as record-breaking rainfall caused havoc. Guizhou Province saw rapidly rising river water levels due to the continuous rains, which led to widespread disturbance and destruction, particularly in the low-lying areas of Rongjiang, which became completely inundated.

On June 24, a major bridge on Guizhou’s Xiarong Highway collapsed due to a landslide. One truck was on the bridge at the time of the collapse, and the driver was successfully rescued. Footage of that dramatic situation went viral, as did videos of Rongjiang’s largest mall, Changchi Plaza, which was completely flooded up to the second floor above ground—so quickly that stores didn’t even have time to move out their goods.

A video of the aftermath showed the devastation of the flood, that was so forceful that a small truck could be seen stacked on top of a fire truck.

Before recovery from the June 24 flood was complete, another wave hit the region on June 28. On social media and beyond, dozens of channels have been set up for donations, and assistance is coming in from across the country.

As part of China’s official media strategy of promoting positive energy, state media are highlighting uplifting moments amid the disaster—like the rescue workers helping residents around the clock, a Guizhou business owner who spent 18,000 yuan (US$2,500) of his own money on bedding sets and drove ten hours to personally deliver them, and locals communities coming together to help.

At the same time, authorities are cracking down on those spreading rumors about the floods. One man received administrative punishment from the police after posting a video falsely claiming that the floods had caused 13 deaths and 2 missing persons. According to official sources, at least six people lost their lives in the floods.

Now, it’s time for residents and business owners to assess their losses and prepare for what will likely be a long period of reconstruction.

What’s Noteworthy

Small news with big impact

You might remember Du Meizhu as the young woman who was the first to publicly accuse rapper and popstar Kris Wu (吴亦凡) of rape and sexual misconduct back in 2021, after which other victims came forward, leading to his arrest and imprisonment. Now, Du Meizhu is back in the top trending lists for an entirely different reason: a former supporter of hers is accusing the beauty influencer and livestreaming of scamming her out of nearly 200,000 yuan (approx. US$27,800).

The woman, Ms Zhu, claims she felt sympathy for Du after the ordeal she went through and became one of her online fans. Their online interaction turned into a virtual ‘friendship’ in which Du allegedly complained about needing money. In a time period of about two to three years, Ms Zhu, a single mum who works as a taxi driver, sent Du money to help her out – leading to a shocking total of $27k. When she needed the money back, Du refused to pay it back in its entirety.

Although the story is attracting a lot of attention online because it exposes private conversations between Du and the woman – and, frankly, many netizens just enjoy the drama, – it also says a lot about China’s thriving livestreaming industry and just how close online followers can feel to the influencers they follow. In these kinds of online communities, it is common for fans and followers to send livestreamers money or ‘virtual gifts’. In the case of Ms. Zhu, it will be hard for her to prove in court that she loaned Du the money instead of gifting it to her. Either way, many Chinese netizens feel that it was not right of Du Mizhu to take advatange of a single mum like that. Even if she’s not legally wrong, they feel she lacks moral integrity.

Read more

What’s Popular

The latest obsession on China’s internet

‘Xiaomi’ and ‘YU7’ are some of the hottest search terms this week after Xiaomi officially launched its first electric SUV. At a time of an intensifying electric car price war, it’s no wonder everyone’s talking about Xiaomi’s car that rivals Tesla’s Model Y in all kinds of ways—but at a cheaper price.

According to Xiaomi, within just 3 minutes of launch, YU7 preorders surpassed 200,000; within an hour, that number hit 289,000. The vAccording to Xiaomi, within just 3 minutes of launch, YU7 preorders surpassed 200,000; within an hour, that number hit 289,000. The vehicle comes in nine different colors and three versions—Standard, Pro, and Max—priced from ¥253,500 to ¥329,900 (US$35.3K–US$46K). One Weibo post showed people taking a number and waiting in line just to go for a test drive.

For many, the story of Xiaomi—leading up to the YU7—represents something bigger than Xiaomi’s success alone: it reflects China’s broader development and its capacity to rival the West. Chinese media commentator Hu Xijin described Xiaomi’s rise as a “Cinderella-like story,” which, alongside other national brands, showcases the brilliance of China’s manufacturing power.

Although there is online excitement over the SUV, there have also been complaints. One woman who purchased the Xiaomi YU7 was upset to learn that the car wouldn’t be delivered until early next year, calling out Xiaomi CEO Lei Jun for taking on more than production can handle.

Weibo Word of the Week

Viral Chinese vocabulary

Lately, the term “结婚化债” jiéhūn huàzhài, which translates to “marriage as debt resolution” or “getting married to resolve debt” is a recurring term on Chinese social media.

The word refers to a phenomenon that has become more prevalent alongside rising debts among younger people in China due to credit card debts or personal loans, who turn to marriage as a way to solve financial problems. It’s not a promise of love; it’s a calculated transaction. By getting married, women in particular can demand high bride prices and make their new husbands help repay loans, before quickly divorcing and leaving their partners both emotionally and financially ruined.

Especially in China, where there are many more men of marriage age than women, women find an easy target in marriage-minded men who might not even be aware of their partner’s debt before tying the knot.

As a result of this worrisome trend, bloggers and influencers are now warning people not to rush into marriage—recommending they check for financial transparency and, if needed, hire a lawyer to conduct a premarital financial investigation. In the end, they say, marriage should be about love—not just about the money.

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China Memes & Viral

Trump and Takaichi: The Unexpected Love Affair

The meeting between US President Donald Trump and new Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi became a popular topic on China social media, thanks to a stream of meme-worthy moments.

Published

7 days ago

November 2, 2025

Manya Koetse

It was a pleasant autumn day in Tokyo on October 28, when Trump first met Japan’s newly-elected Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi (高市早苗).

Takaichi welcomed Trump at the State Guest House as her first foreign guest since taking office as Japan’s first-ever female leader, offering what Yomiuri Shimbun described as “Takaichi-style hospitality.”

During the visit, Trump and Takaichi held a bilateral summit during which Takaichi expressed desire to build a new “golden age” for the US-Japan alliance. Afterwards, they signed agreements and exchanged gifts — a golf bag for Trump, signed by Japanese golf star Hideki Matsuyama (with whom Trump has previously played), and “Japan is Back” baseball caps for Takaichi.

Following a lunch that featured Japanese vegetables and American steak, the two visited the US Navy’s Yokosuka base, where Trump remarked that he and Takaichi had “become very close friends all of a sudden.”

On Chinese social media, the meeting drew considerable attention.

There has been heightened focus in China on Sanae Takaichi beyond anti-Japanese sentiment and her recent appointment as Japan’s first female Prime Minister — as she is widely regarded as a far-right politician who denies, downplays, or glorifies historical facts related to the Second Sino-Japanese War (1931-1945).

Japan’s official narrative of its wartime past has long been a major obstacle to deeper reconciliation between China and Japan, and it is highly unlikely that Takaichi’s views of the war are going to bring China and Japan any closer. Among others, she is known for visiting Yasukuni Shrine, the Tokyo shrine that honors Japan’s war dead (including those who committed war crimes in China). She also claimed that Japan’s aggression following the Manchurian Incident, which led to the outbreak of the Second Sino-Japanese War, was an act of “self-defense.”

In light of these tensions in Sino-Japanese relations, and because of the changing dynamics in the current US-China relationship, many details surrounding the Trump–Takaichi meeting became popular talking points.

🔴 Trump: Reaffirming US Dominance, Insensitive to Japan’s Wartime Past

Many netizens focused on moments they interpreted as Trump asserting dominance or showing disregard for Japan.

👉 One awkward moment showed how, during the welcoming ceremony, Takaichi failed to properly escort the US president. He walked ahead of her twice, and, despite the cues to salute the Japanese flag, Trump simply walked past it instead, leaving Takaichi looking visibly surprised (video).

While some saw it as a case of poor etiquette instructions behind the scenes, most reactions framed it as a sign of power dynamics in the US–Japan relationship, with some commenting: “Why would the master bow to his son?” (Hashtags: “Trump Skips the Japanese Flag” #特朗普略过日本国旗# and “Trump Ignores Takaichi Twice in a Minute” #特朗普1分钟内两次无视高市早苗#)

👉 Another widely discussed moment came at the Yokosuka base, where Trump invited Takaichi on stage and mentioned how their bond was based on WWII (“Born out of the ashes of a terrible war”) — a comment that seemed to catch Takaichi off guard (video). He quickly followed up with, “our bond has grown into the beautiful friendship that we have,” but not before her expression visibly changed.

Under the hashtag “Trump’s Remark Gave Takaichi a Scare” (#专家：#特朗普一句话吓了高市早苗一大跳#), Chinese media outlet Beijing Time (@北京时间) commented: “She was afraid that Trump might go on to say something she couldn’t respond to easily.”

Image by online creator.

👉 Later, at a reception at the US Embassy in Tokyo, Trump referred to the Pacific War as a “little conflict.” While the euphemism may have been aimed at promoting reconciliation (“We once had a little conflict with Japan — you may have heard about that — but after such a terrible event, our two nations have become the closest of friends and partners…” video), many Chinese netizens and outlets, including The Observer (观察者网) interpreted the remark as dismissive. This fueled hashtags like “Trump Calls the Pacific War a Small Conflict” (#特朗普将太平洋战争称作小冲突#) and “Trump Refers to Hiroshima and Nagasaki Bombing as a Small Conflict” (#特朗普称轰炸广岛长崎只是小冲突#).

🔴 Takaichi: Smiles & Body Language Seen as Deferential to US

Alongside critiques of Trump’s behavior, much attention was also paid to Takaichi’s facial expressions and body language.

On Chinese social media, she was widely seen as overly eager to please — described as “fawning over Trump” (谄媚) in an “exaggerated” (夸张) way. Global Times highlighted how even Japanese netizens were criticizing her gestures as inappropriate for a prime minister (#日本网民怒批高市早苗谄媚#).

Some jokingly drew comparison to the famous movie about Hachiko, the loyal Japanese dog and his owner, played by American actor Richard Gere.

Some commenters described her behavior as that of an affectionate “pet” eager for approval.

Meme in which Takaichi was compared to Captain Jia (贾贵), known for his exaggerated flattery and traitorous behavior.

One meme compared Takaichi’s expressions toward Trump to those of Chinese actor Yan Guanying (颜冠英), who played the supporting role of Captain Jia (贾贵) in Underground Traffic Station (地下交通站), a satirical Chinese sitcom set during the Japanese occupation. The character was known for his exaggerated flattery and traitorous behavior.

🔴 Trump & Takaichi: A US-Japan Love Affair

But the most popular kind of meme surrounding the Takaichi-Trump meeting portrayed them as a newly smitten couple or even newlyweds. AI-generated images and playful commentary suggested a “love affair” dynamic. Watch an example of the videos here.

AI-generated images circulating on social media.

Some netizens linked this imagery to deeper historical dynamics — drawing distasteful parallels to American troops in postwar Japan and the women involved with them, including references to the reinstatement of the “sexual entertainment” industry once used to serve US forces.

For many, however, it was more about humor than history.

Some shared images showed just how much happier Trump seemed to be meeting with Sanae Takaichi than with her predecessor, Shigeru Ishiba, in 2024.

A considerably warmer meeting.

In the end, there are two sides to this peculiar “love affair” meme.

👉 On one hand, it plays on the affectionate behavior and newfound friendship between the two — Trump held Takaichi close to him multiple times, and she said she would nominate him for the Nobel Peace Prize. At the same time, the portrayal reduces Takaichi to a submissive romantic partner rather than a political equal, reinforcing gendered stereotypes — a dynamic that likely wouldn’t have emerged as strongly if she were a man.

This kind of “couple pairing” is quite ubiquitous in Chinese digital culture, especially involving people who are unlikely to have an actual relationship in real life. And although censorship would never allow this kind of pairing to thrive online if it involved Chinese politicians, the fact that it features Trump and Takaichi makes it less susceptible to online control.

A previous example of a noteworthy “love affair” meme was the one pairing US Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi with Chinese political commentator Hu Xijin (see it here).

👉 Second, the Trump–Takaichi meeting is often placed in a Chinese context — showing the two getting married in a Chinese-style ceremony or inserting them into Chinese film scenes. While this may seem like light banter, it also reveals a deeper layer to the discussion: many believe that China plays a central role in the US–Japan relationship, interpreting the meeting through a Chinese lens in which US–China dynamics and the history of Sino-Japanese war are all interconnected.

Will they live happily ever after? Some may fantasize they will — but others think the weight of the past, both American and Chinese, will always cloud their sunny future. For now, most enjoy the banter and how “political news has turned into a romance variety show” (“政治新闻愣成了恋综了”).

By Manya Koetse

(follow on X, LinkedIn, or Instagram)

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China World

“It’s in the Details” – The Xi-Trump ‘G2’ Meeting on Chinese Social Media

“The tariff drama, directed by Trump himself with himself as the main actor, has finally come to an end.”

Published

1 week ago

October 30, 2025

Manya Koetse

Last update 1 November 2025

The meeting between Xi Jinping and Donald Trump has been a major topic across Chinese social media, from the announcement of the big ‘G2’ summit to the actual meeting between the two nations, which have been caught up in trade tensions and rocky relations.

The announcement and actual meeting became the top trending topic across Chinese social media platforms over the past week.

Trump announced the meeting with Xi as the ‘G2’ on his Truth Social platform.

The meeting, that lasted approximately 1 hour and 40 minutes inside Gimhae International Airport in Busan, South Korea, was the first in-person meeting between Trump and Xi since Trump began his second term in January 2025. The summit took place on the sidelines of the APEC (Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation) meetings and concluded Trump’s ‘Asia tour’ that also included visits to Malaysia and Japan.

Chinese news reports about the meeting were overall positive, with Xinhua noting that the two leaders agreed to strengthen cooperation in various areas and promote “people-to-people exchanges.”

State-run media also reported Xi’s emphasis on dialogue over confrontation and highlighted Trump’s praise of China. Reports by CCTV and China Daily emphasized Xi Jinping’s remarks during the meeting on the important of stable US-China relations: “The partnership and friendship of our two countries, is a lesson from history, and also a necessity of the present” (“两国做伙伴、做朋友，这是历史的启示，也是现实的需要”).

During the meeting, Xi also said that, given the differences in national conditions, some US-China disagreements are inevitable, and as the world’s two largest economies, “occasional friction is normal” (“两国国情不同，难免有一些分歧，作为世界前两大经济体，时而也会有摩擦，这很正常”). He added: “To face rough waters and challenges, both heads of state should steer the right course and keep the larger picture in mind to ensure the steady sailing of China–US relations” (“面对风浪和挑战，两国元首作为掌舵人，应当把握好方向、驾驭住大局，让中美关系这艘大船平稳前行”).

Trump told reporters that he rated the meeting with Xi “a 12 out of 10.” On Truth Social, he also called it a “truly great meeting” that resulted in some major agreements.

Among others, the US cut fentanyl-related tariffs on China from 20% to 10%, China agreed to pause its October 9 export controls on rare earths for one year, while Washington suspended related controls, and Beijing authorized massive purchases of American soybeans and agricultural products.

The two sides also agreed to maintain regular contact. Trump expressed his hope to visit China in April 2026 and invited President Xi to visit the United States.

G2: Changing Power Dynamics

Video footage showing Trump escorting Xi to his vehicle after the meeting went viral across platforms from Toutiao to Douyin.

As often happens in a social media environment where in-depth discussions of high-level meetings are heavily restricted, it’s the visuals that matter — with netizens dissecting the gestures and body language of both leaders.

One image that circulated online focused on the difference in body language between the Trump-Xi meeting and the meeting between Trump and Japan’s new leader Takaichi, suggesting it translates to different power dynamics.

Trump and Takaichi versus Trump and Xi.

On October 28, when Trump met with Takaichi, he appeared to ignore cues to salute the Japanese flag, instead briskly walking past it. Takaichi looked visibly surprised. While some attributed it to poor etiquette guidance behind the scenes, most reactions framed it as a reflection of the power dynamics in the US–Japan relationship — with the US clearly on top.

The smaller meeting moments and visual gestures of respect that Trump showed toward Xi were seen by many — including this Zhihu commenter, 高山流水教育者 — as important signs and changing US-China dynamics.

These gestures ranged from Trump arriving at the venue early and “respectfully waiting” (恭候) for the Chinese delegation, to being the one who extended his hand first during the handshake. After the meeting, both leaders smiled and Trump courteously escorted Xi to his car and exchanged a few quiet words with him (#特朗普送习主席上车#).

The commenter writes: “The truth lies in the details!” (“细节见真章” xìjié jiàn zhēnzhāng).

Another issue that has repeatedly come up on social media is how Trump prioritized a one-on-one meeting with Xi Jinping while skipping the APEC meeting — suggesting a preference for major power dynamics and his so-called ‘G2’ US–China alignment over broader engagement with the Asia-Pacific bloc.

Trump’s initiative to call the US-China meeting a “G2” seemed well-received by the Foreign Ministry of China, which responded to a reporter’s question about the use of this term on October 31. Spokesperson Guo Jiakun (郭嘉昆) suggested that China and the United States could demonstrate “major power responsibility together” by cooperating on issues beneficial to both countries and the rest of the world (#中方回应特朗普所称G2会议#).

The fact that Trump called it a “G2” speaks volumes for many about China’s strong global leadership today — especially coming from someone often described as having a “mentality of worshipping the strong” (慕强心理 mù qiáng xīn lǐ).

The media campaign China launched ahead of the Xi–Trump meeting to assert its claims over Taiwan may also have played a role — with a series of state media commentaries emphasizing reunification and the declaration of October 25 as “Taiwan Restoration Day,” there appeared to be added pressure to ensure Taiwan would not be used as a bargaining chip.

Taken together, the meeting and the details surrounding it are taken as a sign that Trump now accepts China as a stronger power than he did during his first term.

At the same time, Trump’s eagerness is also seen as a reflection of how his foreign policy efforts have fallen short in resolving domestic challenges. In that sense, his use of “G2” underscores both China’s rising position and the domestic pressures facing the United States.

With the fruitful outcome of the meeting and Trump showing clear respect toward China — and, as many suggested, even more respect than toward Japan — there seems to be a generally positive attitude and a noticeable shift in sentiment toward the US president on Chinese social media.

“Old Trump is an honest guy,” one person wrote on Weibo. Others on Douyin wrote: “US–China cooperation is a win-win situation.”

One observer on Weibo wrote: “The tariff drama, directed by Trump himself with himself as the main actor, has finally come to an end after all his tossing and turning. Life is like a play and it all depends on your acting skills. Old Trump treats politics as a show, which has broadened our horizons and added a bit of extra amusement to the world.”

By Manya Koetse
with contributions by Miranda Barnes

(follow on X, LinkedIn, or Instagram)