Connect with us

Backgrounder

Pioneering in China’s Family Tree Business – ‘My China Roots’ Founder Huihan Lie

At a time when family tree business is more booming than ever, Dutch entrepreneur Huihan Lie runs the first-ever professional genealogy service business for overseas people with Chinese heritage who want to discover their family lineage. What’s on Weibo spoke to Lie about his company, the reasons for exploring one’s roots, and his personal mission to connect people to their Chinese ancestry.

Manya Koetse

Published

on

At a time when family tree business is more booming than ever, Dutch entrepreneur Huihan Lie runs the first-ever professional genealogy service business for overseas people of Chinese descent. What’s on Weibo spoke to Lie about My China Roots, their mission to connect people to their Chinese ancestry, and how to start searching for a family in a country of 1.3 billion.

My China Roots is a Beijing-based company specialized in Chinese genealogy. Founded by the Dutch Huihan Lie, it is the first company of its kind that helps overseas born Chinese or people of mixed descent to find out more about their roots in China.

The research of genealogy —tracing one’s ancestors— was often perceived as either an aristocratic practice or the classic old man hobby, but the increasing prevalence of genealogy websites and TV series such as Finding Your Roots or Who Do You Think You Are? shows the growing popularity of genealogy in the West.1 It has made the online genealogy industry lucrative; big players such as Ancestry.com or MyHeritage have a membership base of approximately 80 million. They use their online platforms to secure family records and collect historical information (Ungerleider 2015).

My China Roots fills a gap in this industry with its focus on Chinese ancestry. Since the company started in 2012, Huihan Lie and his team of researchers have taken on dozens of projects and are never out of work: many foreigners of Chinese descent have a strong urge to find out more about their family history. Over the past years, Lie has learned much about the possibilities and obstacles in investigating people’s Chinese roots. What’s on Weibo sat down with him in the courtyard of his Beijing office to ask about his work, and how it all began.

 

FROM THE DUTCH COUNTRYSIDE TO MY CHINA ROOTS

“It is all about identity in the end – it is a search for who they are.”

Huihan Lie (middle) with two of his team members Hai Miao (left) and Hung Yingying.

“I have always been interested in family history,” says Lie, who was born and raised in the Dutch countryside to Indonesian parents from Chinese descent. “As a young boy, I loved listening to my grandpa’s stories. They were mainly about the family history from 1850-1950 in Indonesia, where I’ve been many times. I only started to become more curious about my Chinese roots after coming to Beijing to study Chinese. I knew my ancestors originally were from China, so I began to look for more information about them.”

It has been over a decade since Huihan Lie started the search for his Chinese roots. Throughout the years, he has visited four different villages of distant relatives and is planning to travel to a fifth one this year: “The search never really ends – every new trail leads to the next.” Lie’s personal journey also led to the launch of his own company to help other people find their Chinese roots.

“Everyone has different personal reasons for wanting to know about their Chinese descent,” Lie says: “What really drives me is the more you find out about your roots, the more you discover how similar we all actually are. We all come from different places and cultures, but in the end, we have a lot in common. Going on this journey has made me more open and tolerant. But there are also people who want to know if they are connected to the Emperor in some way – for them, searching their roots is a prestige thing.”

Lie says that the incentives for genealogy research also vary per age group: “For people in their twenties, finding one’s genealogical roots is often part of their journey of self-discovery. Those who come to us who are in their thirties or forties often have children or are in mixed marriages, and they want to know what family history to pass on to their children. For the older generations, it is often about unanswered questions and self-reflection. No matter the reason, it is all about identity in the end – a search for who they are.”

 

TRACING DOWN CHINESE ROOTS

“How do you find someone’s ancestors in a country of 1.3 billion people?”

Guangdong around 1911 (360doc.com).

What once started as a one-man company has now grown into a strong team that travels to places connected to the ancestry of their clients, who come from all corners of the world: from Europe to South-east Asia, from the USA to the Caribbean. For the majority of these people, the birthplaces of their ancestors can be found in the south of China. Around 90% of Lie’s clients’ ancestry lies in the provinces Fujian and Guangdong.

Although waves of Chinese migration have occurred throughout history, there was a huge surge of Chinese laborers leaving for the Americas, Australia, South Africa and South-east Asia from the middle of the 19th century up to 1949. The first flow of Chinese immigrants to the USA departed from Guangdong, which was an international trading port. In 1848, news of gold in California spread like wildfire throughout the south of China and many people emigrated. There were also other early Chinese migrants with a variety of professions, from seamen to diplomats (Chao 2008, 74).

Even when people already have strong clues about their family lineage or possess important documentation, they often still do not know what to do with it; the majority of Lie’s client base does not read or speak Chinese at all. Language is a major hurdle in their personal search for family in China, as well as their limited understanding of Chinese culture and society. “They often simply do not know where to start,” Lie says: “That’s where we come in.”

But how do you find someone’s ancestors in a country of 1.3 billion people? It seems like a daunting task, but Huihan Lie has a clear vision when it comes to the genealogy research process. He explains their services always start with whatever information a prospective client can provide them. From there, him and his team can begin unraveling a family history through a step-by-step plan of various stages.

“The first step is to simply collect as much information as we can from the people who contact us,” Lie says: “What is the name we are focusing on? What information do they still have? Where did their great-grandfathers come from? When we know more, we ask our contacts at Chinese local government level to help us determine the right village to go to. Our on-site researchers then collect materials in the relevant places.”

 

100 FAMILY NAMES

“It hardly ever happens that we do not find anything at all – there is always some trace.”

Example of a family record from the Ming dynasty.

In China, there are hundreds of different surnames, but the 100 most common Chinese surnames (f.e. Wang, Li, Zhang, Liu, etc) account for over 85% of the population. The 200 most common ones even account for 95% (Jonkers 2010). How do you find a specific family when millions of people all carry the same name?

“It actually makes it easier for us,” Lie smilingly says: “If a name is very common, local governments will know more about where these families originally came from. The hierarchy of China’s administrative divisions works in such a way that we can ask our contacts at the county level about the history of family names in that county. Some small towns will have a prominent population of the Chen or Li surname, for example. Historically, all villages basically were extended families. In Guangdong or Fujian, you’ll still find places where 60-70% of inhabitants belong to the same family.”

China’s administrative system is divided into provinces, cities, counties, townships and villages. When a prospective client can provide the name of the county of their great-grandparents, Lie and his team will typically be able to pinpoint the right area and village.

Pivotal for the research process are the genealogical books called jiapu (家谱 – family tree) and zupu (族谱 – clan genealogy), which contain records of generational relationships, clan history, origins, renowned members, etc. These books are commonly not stored in archives but within family homes in the villages, where Lie and his team also look for clan temples and ancestral graves.

There are much bigger obstacles for genealogical research than China’s common names, Lie points out. Because of fires, natural disasters, or the massive destruction during the Cultural Revolution, some family records have simply vanished.

“We do try to find ways to work around that. There are often copies of these records that have been passed on from elders to their children and we will still find a way to access them. What is more complicated is people who have taken on a different surname when fleeing, for example, political prosecution. But in 9 out of 10 cases we are able to find the right places and sources. It hardly ever happens that we do not find anything at all – there is always some trace.”

 

CRAZY ABOUT ROOTS

“If I tell Chinese people what I do, they immediately understand what it is that I am doing and how valuable it is.”

Family tree clubs gather to restore and update family records.

The fact that the majority of Lie’s clients have their roots in the south of China benefits research in multiple ways, Lie explains: “Generally speaking, genealogical research has fewer obstacles in the south of China than in the north. The great destruction of old documents during the Cultural Revolution was less severe in the south than in north, simply because it was much further away from the political center in Beijing.”

“In the 1980s and 1990s there was also a revival of genealogical research. People started coming together to preserve their local heritage and update their family records, something which they especially actively did in the south of China. It led to new editions of old genealogical records – a result of collective village efforts to restore their family history. Somehow this is stronger in the south than in the north.”

But Lie emphasizes that ancestry is overall much more alive in China than it is in the West: “Honoring one’s ancestry is deeply rooted in Confucianism. There is a revival of Confucianism that has been going on for a long time. It is ingrained in Chinese culture. This also shows in the fact that there are currently more and more ‘clan name’ organizations popping up everywhere and they can easily be found on Baidu.”

A gathering of a clan of the Li family name.

Chinese media recently reported about the “popular craze” of these ‘clan name’ foundations or ‘family tree clubs’ where, for example, people of the Wang or Chen family names within a certain region have annual gatherings and collaborate on restoring and completing genealogical records.

“If I tell Chinese people what I do, they immediately understand what it is that I am doing and how valuable it is. It is more natural to most Chinese. The family is the cornerstone of Chinese society, and knowing who your ancestors are is an important part of it.”

 

BUILDING BRIDGES

“It feels good knowing that we can help establish these valuable cross-cultural connections.”

For Lie, it is clear that there is still a long future ahead for the company. He enjoys every project and the research he does together with his team. “Every project is like another expedition. I found out that generally, it is not so much the answers that people get that matter the most to them, but the journey of discovering itself.”

Lie stresses that they give their clients much more than names and dates: “It is all about contextualizing history and make it come alive. Giving people a better picture of how their ancestors lived and what bigger cultural movements they were part of.”

As part of this contextualizing of people’s ancestry, Lie will focus more on its online platform this year. “Our services are tailor-made and completely focused on our clients,” Lie says: “Up until now, most of it was offline and high-end. But in the near future, we want to expand and will set up an online database where people can start their family history journey by looking up their family name or the place where their (great) grandparents came from. We will provide these online information services for free, and for a more personalized analysis, people can contact us to take the research to the next level.”

Besides the fact that My China Roots itself is going more digital, online channels are also relevant in genealogical research. Sina Weibo is sometimes used to search for people with certain last names from specific regions, or occasionally to ask help from Chinese netizens. WeChat has also become an important tool to communicate with local authorities and families.


Watch: Huihan Lie tells about My China Roots.

Lie enthusiastically tells: “I like how My China Roots can really serve as a bridge between people and their Chinese lineage. Sometimes it really gives me a kick, like when our clients build long-lasting friendships with relatives we found in China. It feels good knowing that we can help establish these valuable cross-cultural connections.”

“Finding out more about one’s roots seems to give people peace of mind. No matter the outcome of the research, people’s reaction always is that they have a sense of contentment about knowing where they come from. They come to us with a search for identity – it is the peace of simply knowing that they gain in the end.”

This interview was conducted and condensed by Manya Koetse in Beijing

– By Manya Koetse

Featured image: two men doing business in Beijing around 1917 (http://www.ntdtv.com/xtr/gb/2017/04/14/a1320285.html).

1. Who Do You Think You Are? is a UK show that was first aired by the BBC in 2004. Every episode investigates the family tree of a celebrity, often discovering things about their ancestry they never knew about. The UK show often drew audiences of over 6 million viewers per episode, and now has more than 10 international adaptations. Huihan Lie and his team contributed to the show in the episode with Julie Chen; they brought her to Fujian in a search for her Chinese roots. Finding Your Roots is another popular American series that also uses genealogical research to discover the family history of well-known Americans.

References

Chao, Sheau-yueh J. 2008. “Tracing Their Roots: Genealogical Sources for Chinese Immigrants to the United States.” Collection Building 27(2): 74–88.

Jonkers, Koen. 2010. Mobility, Migration and the Chinese Scientific Research System. New York: Routledge.

Ungerleider, Neal. 2015. “Ancestors, Inc.: Inside the Remarkable Rise Of The Genealogy Industry.” Fast Company, July 15 https://www.fastcompany.com/3048513/ancestors-inc-inside-the-remarkable-rise-of-the-genealogy-industry [2.5.17].

Images:

* Jiapu from the Ming dynasty: http://www.lzsx.org.cn/index_Article_Content.asp?fID_ArticleContent=365

* Get together of Li family members: http://www.xingpaojihua.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/DSC_0706.jpg

* Old Guangdong: http://www.360doc.com/content/16/0404/19/11548039_547832131.shtml

* Chinese family around 1900: http://history.sohu.com/20161108/n472615999.shtml

©2017 Whatsonweibo. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce our content without permission – you can contact us at info@whatsonweibo.com.

Manya Koetse is the founder and editor-in-chief of whatsonweibo.com. She is a writer, public speaker, and researcher (Sinologist, MPhil) on social trends, digital developments, and new media in an ever-changing China, with a focus on Chinese society, pop culture, and gender issues. She shares her love for hotpot on hotpotambassador.com. Contact at manya@whatsonweibo.com, or follow on Twitter.

Continue Reading
2 Comments

2 Comments

  1. Avatar

    Lisa Maypa Dumat-ol

    October 8, 2017 at 4:01 pm

    Hello good day. How are you? Your page caught my attention. Since I was small my grandma used to tell me that her father was a Chinese from China and fell in love with my great grandma
    Centuries passed but still I have no clue on the roots of my ancestry. My great grandpa’s name was Chuana Dy. And my grandma said he was from Amoi but I doubt about the name of the place now.But I dont have pictures of my great grandpa. Hoping that thru your page I can locate my relatives in China. Thank you and God bless.

    • Avatar

      Tian Tian

      October 13, 2017 at 12:10 am

      Amoi is Xiamen,located in south of Fujian Province, and Your Great Grandpa is very likely to speak Hokkien or Minnan dialect (A.K.A Taiwanese). Just a hint.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

Backgrounder

More Than Just a Visit: Explaining the Chinese ‘Cuànfǎng’

‘Cuànfǎng’ became a popular word on Chinese social media and in official Chinese discourse this year. But what is it?

Jin Luo

Published

on

By

Since Pelosi’s stopover in Taiwan, the word ‘cuànfǎng’ has been all over Chinese social media to refer to this controversial visit. But ‘cuànfǎng’ is more than just ‘visiting’ alone. Jin Luo explains.

It was a sleepless night for many Chinese people when U.S. House Speaker Pelosi flew to Taiwan on August 2nd of 2022. A new Chinese word created in recent years, cuànfǎng (窜访) appeared in the official statement that was issued by the Chinese Foreign Ministry at 11 pm that night, and subsequently it appeared all over social media.

Meanwhile, a pop song released more than 30 years ago titled “Tonight, Are You Coming or Not” (“今夜你会不会来”) suddenly became a Weibo hot topic before it was taken offline. What is this word lost in translation, and why did people suddenly get nostalgic over an old romantic song?

 
Cuànfǎng: A ‘Sneaky Visit’
 

Here is the original wording in Chinese and the official translation to English from the statement of the Chinese Foreign Ministry on the evening on 2 August:

In disregard of China’s strong opposition and diplomatic discontent, Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives Nancy Pelosi visited China’s Taiwan region” (“美国国会众议长佩洛西不顾中方强烈反对和严正交涉,窜访中国台湾地区.”) The word ‘visited’ in Chinese that is used here is “cuànfǎng” 窜访.

While the English verb “visit” is a neutral word by itself, the Chinese “cuànfǎng” 窜访 has much stronger connotations. According to the Wiktionary, the word is a derogatory, officialese way to say “to visit.” But it is not an easy word to translate, as there is no direct equivalent in English, and both the literal and implied meaning of the word need to be understood.

Cuànfǎng is actually a compound word: cuàn 窜 refers to fleeing, escaping, hiding, or running away; fǎng 访 refers to inquiring, seeking, or visiting.

Cuan as a compound character (Sohu).

To make matters more complicated, cuàn by itself is also a compound character. It is written as ‘竄’ in traditional Chinese: the top radical ‘穴’ means ‘hole,’ and the lower part is the character ‘鼠’ which means ‘mouse.’ The character, having the shape of a mouse hiding in a hole, therefore has the meaning of ‘hiding’ and ‘escaping.’

The origins of the character ‘cuan’ explained, image via Sohu.com.

The mouse or rat is an animal that is more often associated with negative things in Chinese culture. They are often considered sneaky, dirty, running around everywhere, and able to reproduce quickly. With mice so often carrying a negative association, cuàn ‘窜’ also refers to a kind of hiding and escaping that is negative or objectionable.

The second character fǎng 访 is a neutral word that simply means “to visit.”

At the New York Times, Chris Buckley captured the underlying meaning of this word in writing: “The Chinese word used in the official statements for ‘visit’ — cuanfang — connotes a sneaky or illicit encounter, not an aboveboard meeting.”

 
The Evolution of Cuànfǎng
 

Although it is a relatively new word, cuànfǎng already existed before the Pelosi incident and was not created in light of this controversial visit.

Since the word’s first appearance, translators have had some difficulties in properly translating the term into different languages.

Research papers in translation studies and international relations in China suggested that cuànfǎng is a “new derogatory term invented in recent years, specifically for the purpose of maintaining national security and unity, and condemning and exposing the national separatists” and “demonstrated the big wisdom of Chinese diplomatic discourse users; vividly described the image of the separatists, that they go on the run sneakily, just like thieves and mice” (source, in Chinese).

Other sources interpret it as “the unjust, improper visit conducted in order to reach hidden political agenda, to agitate and peddle the separatist ideas,” and:

1. You went somewhere where you were not supposed to go;
2. The visit was not accepted or welcomed by the (Chinese) government;
3. The purpose is to shake justice and create conflicts
” (source, in Chinese).

Cuàn was mainly meant to add an emotional aspect to the term and shows the contempt of the person who uses it.

Image via Wainao.

The word was first prominently used in Chinese official discourse when the Foreign Ministry in 2006 referred to the Dalai Lama’s visit to Israel. Since cuàn has the meaning of fleeing, it is especially suitable when referring to political dissidents who went into exile overseas.

Since then, it has been used again for further visits of the Dalai Lama to other countries (US 2014, Mongolia 2017), as well as for Rebiya Kadeer, Lee Teng-hui, Shinzo Abe, Joshua Wong, and others.

Although it is clear that the term is not only applied to Chinese dissidents, it is generally applied to those who conducted visits that were perceived to be hostile towards China, with Nancy Pelosi’s Taiwan visit serving as a clear example.

Since the Dalai Lama has been living outside of China and conducted numerous visits to other countries, cuànfǎng was previously mostly used in this context until Pelosi’s visit, which ended up being good for more than 80% of the search results of cuànfǎng on the Chinese Foreign Ministry website.

If cuànfǎng is a word with such strong emotional connotations, why was it simply translated as “visit” in official English-language documents? Some say it is because of the mere difficulty to translate this word, while others say it is the routine sanitization of English translations by the Foreign Ministry.

David Gitter, president of the Center for Advanced China Research based in Washington D.C., said that the external goal of Beijing can be different from the internal goal towards the nationalist domestic audiences, and that “more accurate yet counterproductive translations … [often] breach normal diplomatic language.”

At this point, it remains up for debate whether this is a linguistic constraint or a political choice.

 
Tonight, Are You Coming or Not?
 

While the term cuànfǎng has been widely used in official discourse, it has also become a popular online word. Chinese netizens seemed to be as passionate as the Chinese Foreign Ministry – and perhaps even more so –  in condemning Pelosi’s Taiwan visit and demanding radical countermeasures.

Chinese netizens were watching the entire event unfold with mixed feelings – on the one hand, there was a strong sense of patriotism and anger, on the other hand, the massive attention to the event also turned it into something that was almost as exciting as a celebrity drama.

On that specific evening of Pelosi’s nearing arrival in Taipei, Chinese netizens were doing two things: watching real-time tracking of Pelosi’s flight, and listening to a classic pop song released in 1991 titled “Tonight, Are You Coming or Not” (今夜你会不会来) (video). Back in the previous century, Hong Kong singer Leon Lai expressed the emotions of someone waiting for his lover to arrive in this melodic song, singing:

“你是否愿意为我停留

Would you be willing to stay for me

今夜你来告诉我

Tonight, you tell me

你是否愿意陪我走过我的梦

Are you willing to accompany me through my dream?

我的所有

My everything

(Chorus)

今夜你会不会来

Tonight, are you coming or not?

你的爱还在不在

Is your love still there or not?

如果你的心已经离开

If your heart has left already

我宁愿没有未来

I would rather not have a future

今夜你会不会来

Tonight, are you coming or not?

你的爱还在不在

Is your love still there or not?

别让我所有的等待

Don’t let all my wait

变成一片空白

Go all in vain

 

In the middle of the uncertainty about whether Pelosi would come to Taiwan or not, this song served as entertainment for netizens and became a “collective carnival” of people jokingly applying the song to Pelosi, turning her into a ‘mysterious lover’ that might or might not show up. (Later, some were unable to play the song anymore, although it remains unclear if this was due to geographic restrictions or because the song was actually taken offline by censors.)

“Taiwan has been preparing for your cuànfǎng ‘sneaky visit’, are you coming or not tonight?” some netizens wrote, combining the title song with the cuànfǎng term. In doing so, Pelosi became both a ‘sneaky mouse’ and ‘mysterious lover’, both a target of condemnation and subject of fun and banter.

All jokes and cuànfǎng references aside, Pelosi did end up realizing that visit, and its aftermath, including a second Taiwan visit by a U.S. congressional delegation, has had a substantial impact on U.S.-China relations that were already strained before the move.

Will there be more cuànfǎng to Taiwan? It’s likely not an issue of if, but when. For next time, at least we’ve got cuànfǎng covered.

 

By Jin Luo 

Featured image by Alexa from Pixabay

 

Get the story behind the hashtag. Subscribe to What’s on Weibo here to receive our weekly newsletter and get access to our latest articles:

Spotted a mistake or want to add something? Please let us know in comments below or email us. First-time commenters, please be patient – we will have to manually approve your comment before it appears.

©2022 Whatsonweibo. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce our content without permission – you can contact us at info@whatsonweibo.com.
 

Continue Reading

Backgrounder

A Baby for Sale, a Mother Chained Up – How Chinese Netizens Are Pushing Specific Social Issues to the Forefront

The stories of Liu Xuezhou and the Xuzhou mother both developed in real-time while netizens pushed them to the front page, making them too big for state media to ignore.

Manya Koetse

Published

on

It only takes a spark to start a wildfire. From Liu Xuezhou to the Xuzhou mother, China’s online spheres have seen multiple major trending topics this year that started with one short video and then caused a social media storm with netizens highlighting and amplifying specific stories to address bigger social problems.

 
This is the “WE…WEI…WHAT?” column by Manya Koetse, original publication in German by Goethe Institut China, visit Yi Magazin: WE…WEI…WHAT? Manya Koetse erklärt das chinesische Internet.
 

It was December 6th of 2021 when a teenage boy posted a short video on Chinese social media. With a straight back, clear voice, and serious face, he looked directly into the camera and said:

Hello everyone, I am Liu Xuezhou and I am looking for my biological parents. I was born in between 2004 and 2006 and around the age of three months old, I was bought by my parents, my adoptive parents, in Datong in Shanxi. I am healthy. I don’t have any congenital physical defects or diseases; I don’t have any obvious birthmarks or scars. At the age of four, my adoptive parents passed away due to an accident. I am now living in Nangong, Xingtai, in Hebei Province. I study in Shijiazhuang. I wish I’d found my biological parents sooner, to make up for what I missed. I hope you can help me spread my message so that those who suspect they might be my parents can see it.

This video would be the start of a story followed by millions of Chinese netizens. It is the story of Liu Xuezhou (刘学州). The search for his parents and his death became one of the biggest topics on China’s social media of the past months.

Why did the tragic story of one teenage boy capture the entire nation? There are multiple reasons. By posting his call for help in finding his biological parents, Liu involved Chinese netizens in his journey from the start, allowing them to follow his story in real-time through his social media and news reports. Another aspect of Liu’s story is the resilience he showed despite his tough life, something that many admired about him.

But more importantly, Liu’s story is part of a recent broader interest in the stories behind the widespread problem of trafficking in women and children in China, with more people raising awareness on the tragedies caused by these practices and demanding justice for the victims.

Besides Liu’s story, the story of a Xuzhou mother-of-eight being tied up and living in abominable conditions in a shed also dominated online discussions for weeks on end.

 

Liu’s Story: Sold, Orphaned, Abandoned

 

After Liu Xuezhou posted the aforementioned video on Douyin, the Chinese version of the popular TikTok short video platform, it soon went viral and various Chinese news sites started reporting on Liu’s search for his biological family.

Liu’s resilience was impressive. In interviews, he said that his story did not define him and that he was determined to make something of his life. Since 2018, the young Liu was working to earn money while also going to school. His plan was to be admitted to university.

Liu Xuezhou, picture posted on his Weibo account.

After his adoptive parents died in a firework explosion, Liu was raised by his grandparents and was sent to boarding school. Liu’s childhood was not a happy one. Being so young without parents, he was a target of school bullies and had to change schools at least four times until, by grade six, he had finally found a school where he could thrive.

Many people supported Liu and wanted to help the teenage boy, who was thought to have been kidnapped as a baby and then bought by his adoptive parents through an intermediary at a Datong hotel for 30,000 yuan ($4735).

Although Liu’s birth certificate said he was born in September of 2005, nobody was sure how old Liu actually was, and his grandparents did not remember the details surrounding his adoption. By late 2021, as a 16-something-year-old, Liu felt it was time to get some answers and find his biological parents. How did he end up being adopted? Was he abducted? Were his parents still out there searching for him?

Through his own efforts – sped up by finding his vaccination records – and with some help of the police, Liu was able to trace down his biological parents. On the evening of December 15, Liu sent a message to a journalist reporting on the case: “I found my mum and dad.”

His parents’ story, however, was not what Liu had expected at all. After DNA tests confirmed that they were in fact his biological parents, Liu was ready to meet them. But what was supposed to be a happy reunion turned out to be a bitter disappointment.

Liu’s biological parents, who were living in Datong, were not together anymore. Liu soon learned that he had not been abducted as a child, but that he had been sold on purpose by his father. His parents were unmarried when they had him, and Liu’s father turned out to have used the money they earned by selling their baby to marry Liu’s birth mother. They married and had another son, but then ended up divorcing. Both remarried again, and Liu’s father even got divorced two more times after that.

Although some of the unhappy circumstances surrounding Liu’s reunion with his parents came out through his posts on social media throughout January of this year, most of the details surrounding his situation only became clear when Liu posted a farewell letter on his Weibo account on January 24th, just a few minutes past midnight.

Liu Xuezhou’s last Weibo post including a farewell letter.

Titled “Born with little, return with nothing,” Liu posted a lengthy letter explaining his situation.

In this letter, Liu said that besides being sold as a child and becoming an orphan at the age of four, he was also severely bullied by classmates and molested by a teacher at school. His aunt, whom he loved as a mother, also left him behind after she moved away due to a broken marriage.

As he spiraled into depression, Liu felt a spark of hope when he saw the news about Sun Zhuo (孙卓), whose story became one of the major trending news stories of 2021. In 2007, when Sun was only four, he was stolen off the street by a human trafficker. His biological parents never gave up hope they would find their son again and sacrificed everything to be able to fund their search efforts. The Chinese film Dearest (亲爱的) was partly based on their story.

After a years-long search, Sun was found in 2021 due to the help of authorities and face recognition technology that helped trace the person suspected of abducting him. In an unexpected twist, Sun stated that he would prefer to stay with his adoptive parents, who had raised him for a decade. The story triggered many online discussions and raised more awareness on the issue of the trafficking of children in China in times of the country’s one-child policy. Sun’s biological father spoke to the media saying: “For 2022, my biggest wish is that all the abducted children can finally be found.”

Image of the reunion of Sun Zhuo with his parents, who never stopped searching for him (image via Sohu).

It was Sun Zhuo’s story that inspired Liu to search for his own parents, and it was also Sun Zhuo’s story that brought more attention for Liu’s initial video, which struck a chord with many who hoped that he could also be reunited with his parents and actually stay with them.

Liu described how his biological father did not seem happy when Liu first contacted him, and seemed reluctant to meet. His biological father eventually did come to see him, but their communication afterward was not smooth. When his father told Liu that he was sold as a baby so that he could pay for the bride price to marry Liu’s mother, Liu was heartbroken and could not sleep for several days: he was not kidnapped, and his parents never searched for him.

Liu and his biological father on December 26, 2021.

His mother also was not elated that her biological son had found his way back to her. Liu felt unwanted, again, and was also searching for a home to live and was not sure who to turn to anymore. After he asked his biological father for help in buying or renting a place to live, he was blocked on WeChat. Liu then decided to take his parents to court.

Sharing screenshots on social media of the developments between him and his parents, Liu was condemned and bullied by netizens, who accused him of only wanting to find his biological parents for financial gains.

It was all too much for the teenage boy. In his farewell letter, he expressed the hope that the traffickers and biological parents would be punished for their deeds. Liu was later found to have committed suicide at a beach in the city of Sanya, and could no longer be rescued. Liu passed away within a month after meeting his biological parents at the age of just 15 years old.

By now, Liu’s farewell letter has been shared approximately 174,000 times on Weibo, it was ‘liked’ over 2,4 million times and has received thousands of comments.

The topic of Liu’s death exploded on social media and led to national outrage. Many people sympathized with the boy and were angry at all who failed him: “Poor child, abandoned and sold off by his parents, bullied and humiliated by his schoolmates, molested and discriminated by his teacher, cyberbullied by keyboard warriors. Now he’s dead!”

The injustice of Liu’s situation – starting with how he was sold as a child – is what angered people most. China Digital Times recently described how on the Weibo page of Dr. Li Wenliang, one of the doctors who raised the alarm about the coronavirus outbreak, many people also mention Liu Xuezhou. Dr. Li Wenliang was one of the eight so-called ‘whistleblowers’ who tried to warn his colleagues about the Wuhan virus outbreak in late 2019, but was censored and reprimanded by local police for making “false comments.” He later became infected with the virus himself while working at the Wuhan Central Hospital and passed away on February 7th of 2020, sparking a wave of anger and sadness on social media.

Illustration that went viral on social media at the time of Dr. Li’s death (read more here).

Over the past two years, Dr. Li’s Weibo page has become a digital Wailing Wall where people send little messages to remember Dr. Li, tell about their own anxieties and worries, but also address social injustices. As recorded by China Digital Times, one among thousands of comments said:

Two years ago today, I had a sleepless night because of you, and my Weibo account once got shut down because I posted something about you. Over the past two years, I’ve often wondered: will this world become a better place? But between the Liu Xuezhou incident and the woman in Xuzhou with eight kids, I’ve been disappointed time and time again. If you happen to see Liu Xuezhou, please be good to him.

Looking at Dr. Li’s Weibo account today, it is not just Liu Xuezhou who is brought up by commenters; ‘the woman in Xuzhou’ is also mentioned by dozens of people as someone experiencing injustice. But who is she?

 

The Chained-Up Mother in Xuzhou

 

In late January of 2022, right around the same time when Liu Xuezhou was one of the biggest topics on Chinese social media, a TikTok video showing a woman chained up in a shed went viral online and triggered massive outrage with thousands of people demanding answers about the woman’s circumstances.

The video, filmed by a local vlogger in the village of Huankou in Xuzhou, showed how the woman was kept in a dirty hut without a door in the freezing cold. She did not even wear a coat, and she seemed confused and unable to express herself.

Other TikTok videos that came out around the same time showed how the woman’s husband, a man by the name of Dong Zhimin (董志民), was playing and talking with their eight children in the family home right next to the hut where the mother was confined.

The video caused a storm on social media. Many netizens worried about the woman’s circumstances. Why was she chained up? Was she a victim of human trafficking? Was she being abused? How could she have had eight babies? Was she forced to have so many children? While netizens were speculating about the case and venting their anger, Weibo shut down some of the hashtags dedicated to this topic, but the topic soon popped up everywhere, and people started making artworks and writing essays in light of the case.

Following public demands, local authorities started looking into the case. An initial statement by Feng County, where the village of Huankou is located, was issued on January 28 and it said that the woman, named Yang (杨), married her husband in 1998 and that there was no indication that she was a victim of human trafficking.

The woman was dealing with mental problems and would display sudden violent outbursts, beating children and older people. The family allegedly thought it was best to separate her from the family home during these episodes, letting her stay chained up in a small hut next to the house.

The first statement raised more questions than it answered and more people, including influential Weibo bloggers and media insiders, started investigating the case. Meanwhile, it became clear that husband Dong Zhimin was giving interviews to other vloggers flocking to Huankou. Besides talking about his eight children (seven sons, one daughter) as future providers for the family, he also used his newly-acquired ‘fame’ to make money through social media. This only led to more online anger about Dong exploiting his wife and children.

Screenshots from the original Douyin (TikTok) video.

As the social media storm intensified, more official statements ensued. On January 30, Feng County local officials responded to the controversy in a second statement, in which the Xuzhou mother was identified as Yang *Xia (杨某侠) who allegedly once was “a beggar on the streets” in the summer of 1998 when she was taken in by Dong family and ended up marrying their 30-something son Dong Zhimin.

Local officials did not properly check and verify Yang’s identity information when registering the marriage certificate and the local family planning department also made errors in implementing birth control measures and following up with the family. The statement said that Yang had been diagnosed with schizophrenia and was now receiving treatment.

A third, fourth, and even fifth statement issued by authorities on February 7th, 10th, and 23rd confirmed what many on Weibo had suspected all along, namely that Yang had indeed been a victim of human trafficking. Xuzhou authorities said their investigation had brought them to the village of Yagu in Yunnan, a place that was mentioned on Yang’s marriage certificate.

Yang was identified as Xiaohuamei (小花梅), born and raised in Yagu. Yang’s DNA had been compared to that of the family of Xiaohuamei, and the DNA match confirmed that Yang was indeed Xiaohuamei. According to the statements, Xiaohuamei married and moved to another city in 1994, but she divorced and returned to her village two years later, which is when she allegedly also showed signs of mental illness.

Her parents, now deceased, then allegedly ordered a female fellow villager to take their daughter to Jiangsu to get married there. According to the woman, she took Xiaohuamei with her on a train from Yunnan to Jiangsu’s Donghai, but she allegedly ‘went missing’ shortly after arrival. The woman never reported her as missing to the police and she never notified the family.

That woman, along with another man and Dong Zhimin, are now held criminally responsible for illegal detainment and human trafficking. Xiaohuamei was reportedly sold to a man in Donghai for 5,000 yuan ($790) in 1998. Though Xiaohuamei managed to escape, she was sold twice again, eventually ending up with the Dong family.

One of the many images shared on Chinese social media to raise awareness of the case of the Xuzhou mother and other women like her.

While details surrounding the case of the ‘chained Xuzhou mother of eight’ are still being discussed on Chinese social media, it has become clear that by now, ‘Yang’ has come to represent many more women like her. Over the past few weeks, the stories of other women who also might be a victim of human trafficking have surfaced, and the public outcry demanding justice for trafficked women is ongoing.

 

One Social Media Spark Starting a Wildfire

 

Both in the case of Liu Xuezhou and the Xuzhou mother, it should be noted that their stories initially did not catch the public’s attention because official news media reported them, but because of first-hand videos being posted on TikTok (Douyin) and then being picked up and shared by bigger accounts.

Both Liu’s video and the short video featuring the mother of eight were posted on accounts that were not necessarily very popular: starting as a small spark in an online environment with over 900 million social media users, they were shared, commented on, and then spread like wildfire.

Both stories developed in real-time while netizens were following the case, both stories eventually became too big for Chinese state media to ignore, and both Liu and Yang highlighted bigger social issues in contemporary China, mainly those relating to human trafficking.

Since these cases went viral, there has been a heightened focus on the problem of human trafficking, which mostly occurs in China’s poorer areas with weak governance. The trafficking of especially women and children has various purposes, including forced marriage and illegal adoption in areas where there is a shortage of women (along with a preference for baby boys).

China Daily recently reported that lawmakers and advisers are now pushing for heavier punishment for human trafficking crimes, suggesting that the current penalties imposed on the buyers of women and children are too weak; the maximum prison sentence for those who purchase abducted women and children is three years.

In the case of the Xuzhou mother, there has been online censorship but the ongoing intense public outrage eventually did lead to higher-level research into the case. The mother was rescued from her terrible situation, the human traffickers involved are being held responsible, and so are 17 officials, who will be punished by authorities for their wrongdoings in the case.

As for Liu Xuezhou, his adoptive family members have recently filed a request at the Sanya Public Security Bureau to launch another investigation into his case. Their request was accepted on February 23rd, with multiple people being suspected of criminal offenses, eventually leading to his death. On Weibo, many people are now demanding punishment for Liu’s biological parents.

In late January of this year, following the tragic ending to Liu’s story, Chinese state media1 emphasized how the widespread attention for these kinds of stories in the social media era is also changing how government agencies should interact with the public.

According to Dr. Liu Leming, associate professor at East China University’s Political Science faculty, government agencies need to follow up and respond more quickly to social incidents like these in the internet era: “When public issues emerge, people who are involved in social problems or incidents want to know, more than anything, whether their requests have been seen and who will handle their concerns.”

In light of these recent stories, the public is happy that actions have been taken, but they are not satisfied with how these cases were handled. Many argue that authorities have failed in being transparent, that local governments have not done enough to prevent these cases from happening, and that China should do more to put an end to human trafficking.

And so, they are still posting the stories of children like Liu and women like Xiaohuamei to keep raising awareness and to keep pressuring local authorities and lawmakers to take more action to eradicate these practices.

As Liu is no longer alive and Xiaohuamei, still hospitalized, cannot defend herself, Chinese netizens keep raising their voices for them. In doing so, they have not just impacted how authorities dealt with these specific cases, but they are also changing how cases such as these will be handled in the future.

One Weibo user discussing Liu and the Xuzhou mother wrote: “We need to get to the bottom of these kinds of stories: who is to blame, who made mistakes, and where do we go from here?”

In the meantime, online posts, videos, and artworks honor both Liu and Xiaohuamei, so that their stories will not be forgotten. “Dear little one, springtime has come,” one among thousands of messages still flooding Liu Xuezhou’s Weibo page says: “You have endured too many things that you should have never experienced. It should have been us, the adults, taking care of these things for you. You please go and rest now, we will finish the rest for you.”

By Manya Koetse
Follow @whatsonweibo

For information and support on mental health and suicide, international helplines can be found at www.befrienders.org.

1 Cao Yin and Li Yang. 2022. “Policymakers, Lawmakers Respond to Opinion Voiced Online.” China Daily Hong Kong, January 28, Page 1-2.

Featured image by Ama for Yi Magazin.

This text was written for Goethe-Institut China under a CC-BY-NC-ND-4.0-DE license (Creative Commons) as part of a monthly column in collaboration with What’s On Weibo.

Spotted a mistake or want to add something? Please let us know in comments below or email us. First-time commenters, please be patient – we will have to manually approve your comment before it appears.

Continue Reading
Advertisement
Advertisement

Facebook

Contribute

Got any tips? Or want to become a contributor or intern at What's on Weibo? Email us as at info@whatsonweibo.com.
Advertisement

Become a member

Get the story behind the hashtag. Subscribe to What's on Weibo here to receive our weekly newsletter and get access to our latest articles.    

Support What’s on Weibo

What's on Weibo is 100% independent. Will you support us? Your support means we can remain independent and keep reporting on the latest China trends. Every contribution, however big or small, powers our website. Support us from as little as $1 here.

Popular Reads