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Top 25 Best Fiction Books on China: Understanding Contemporary China through Modern Literary Fiction

A selection of the best modern literary fiction works that provide deeper insights into China.

Manya Koetse

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Literature or modern fiction can be a great way to understand more about a country’s culture, history, or society, as it describes events, feelings, atmospheres, and personal stories in a way that history books or more scholarly accounts could never do. This is a top 25 modern fiction works on China compiled by What’s on Weibo as recommended reading to get a better understanding of present-day China.

After doing a Top 30 on Best (Non-Fiction) Books to Better Understand China, we felt it was high time to give you a list of recommendations of modern literary fiction works focusing on the People’s Republic of China (PRC) that also help to better understand the past and present of this rapidly changing society.

There are hundreds of novels and literary works out there on modern China, and a lot of them are written in Chinese, Japanese, French, Spanish, Dutch, and many other languages – but for the scope of this particular list, we have chosen just to focus on the modern fiction books that have come out in the English language. We leave out fictional works focused on specifically Hong Kong and/or Taiwan here, because a top 25 just would not be enough.

Also, due to the scope of this list, we have selected those works that have come out after 1978, the year of the ‘Reform and Opening Up’ of China, mainly because this period marks a new era in Chinese literature and literature on China. Note that this list does not necessarily focus on ‘Chinese literature’ but on ‘literary works on China’ in general.

The earlier years of modern China have seen so many great literary works that are absolutely pivotal for anyone studying China, Chinese literature, or wanting to understand its past century, from the works of Lu Xun to gems such as Miss Sophie’s Diary (1928) by Ding Ling, a Fortress Besieged (1947) by Qian Zhongshu, the works by Eileen Chang or Louis Cha (Jin Yong), that they deserve a list of their own.

These are the 25 books we have selected based on your recommendations and our own. The list is numbered based on the original year of publication. Note that we have provided Amazon links with these books, and most will be available for sale in the US/Europe and elsewhere, but we would also recommend checking out your local thrift stores, Oxfam stores, garage sales etc. because you might unexpectedly find some of these gems there (we sure did!).

 
● #1 Red Sorghum: A Novel of China (Mo Yan) 

Year first published: 1986/1987 (红高粱家族), English translation 1992 by Howard Goldblatt

Red Sorghum by Mo Yan (莫言, real name Guan Moye, 1955) is a novel that has become very famous both in- and outside of China, one of the reasons being that the renowned director Zhang Yimou turned the novel into a movie in 1988. The novel tells the story of a family’s struggles spanning three generations in Shandong from the 1920s to the 1970s, through the Japanese occupation and the Cultural Revolution. The sorghum fields are constantly present throughout the book – it is the heart of the home, the provider of food and wine, and the battleground of war.

When Mo Yan became the winner of the 2012 Nobel prize in literature, some controversy erupted: Mo Yan is one of China’s most famous writers, but he is not a “social activist” or dissident, as many other internationally acclaimed Chinese artists and writers are. “Do cultural figures in China have a responsibility to be dissidents?” the Atlantic wrote in 2013. Perhaps the criticism was somewhat unfounded; after all, Mo Yan never asked to win the Nobel Prize. He said: “I hate partisan politics and how people gang up on opponents based on ideology. I like to come and go on my own, which allows me to look on from the sidelines with a clear mind and gain insight about the world and the human condition. I don’t have the capability or interest of becoming a politician. I just want to write, quietly, and do some charity work in secret. “ Mo Yan is also active on Weibo, where he sporadically shares his calligraphy.

Get on Amazon: Red Sorghum

Also worth reading by the same author:

 
● #2 Stick Out Your Tongue (Ma Jian)

First published in 1987 (亮出你的舌苔或空空荡荡), English translation by Flora Drew

This book by the exiled author Ma Jian (马建, 1953) definitely deserves a place on this list, even if it was just for the controversy it triggered once it was published. The publication of Stick Out Your Tongue sparked off the notorious “Ma Jian Affair,” which has since been called one of the biggest scandals in modern Chinese literature; it led to an immediate ban on the book within mainland China. Stick Out Your Tongue was targeted as an anti-nationalistic book for being “vulgar, obscene,” and for “defaming the image of [our] Tibetan compatriots” (Koetse 2009).

Stick Out Your Tongue (SOYT) resumes where Red Dust, Ma Jian’s first book, left off, for which the author traveled to Tibet and wrote a book about his experiences. SOYT is almost a dream-like novel. Short stories sketch a dark image of remote grasslands and dilapidated temples; a secretive, haunted place. The book tells about how an aging pilgrim reveals why he gave everything away in a Buddhist penance before walking into the mountains to die. Other stories tell about incest and rape. Although SOYT enraged both Han Chinese and Tibetans, Ma Jian said about the book: “The need to believe in an earthly paradise, a hidden utopia where men live in peace and harmony, seems to run deep in among those who are discontented with the modern world. Westerners idealize Tibetans as gentle, godly people untainted by base desires and greed. But in my experience, Tibetans can be as corrupt and brutal as the rest of us. To idealize them is to deny them their humanity” (89).

Get on Amazon: Stick Out Your Tongue

 
● #3 Please Don’t Call me Human (Wang Shuo)

First published 1989 (千万别把我当人), English translation 2000 by Howard Goldblatt 

Wang Shuo (王朔, 1958) is one of China’s most popular and controversial authors, and is known as “the idol of rebellion for the youth” and a ‘celebrity writer’: most of his works have been turned into movies or TV series (Yao 2004, 432). Because of his cynism and bashing of literature elite, he became known as a “hooligan” writer who is quoted as saying things as: “The key is to make sure you f*ck literature and don’t let literature f*ck you.”

Please Don’t Call Me Human is a satirical and surreal novel on “the worthlessness of the individual in the eyes of the totalitarian state” (Abrahamsen 2011) as the author writes about an Olympic-like Wrestling Competition where China is determined to win at any cost and where the so-called National Mobilization Committee strives to find a man to reclaim China’s honour and defeat the big western wrestler.

Get on Amazon here

Also recommended by this author:

 

 
● #4 Soul Mountain (Gao Xingjian)

First published: 1990 (灵山), English translation 2001 by Mabel Lee

Gao Xingjian (高行健, 1940), who is best known for his Soul Mountain, won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2000. Unlike his fellow Nobel Laureate Mo Yan, Gao already left China in 1987, and later became a French citizen (He 2016).

Soul Mountain is largely autobiographical, based on the author’s 1983 remote travels to remote areas along the Yangtze river.  The protagonist of the narrative is on a journey to find the fabled mountain Lingshan (Soul Mountain), and along the way, he collects stories, lovers, and spiritual wisdom. The characters in the book are unnamed; instead, they go by pronouns such as “I”, “you” or “she,” detaching them from their personal names, harboring bigger stories about the origins of humankind and Chinese culture.

Get on Amazon: Soul Mountain

Also recommended by the same author:

 

 
● #5 Wild Swans: Three Daughters of China (Jung Chang)

Year first published: 1991

Practically every garage sale or thrift shop nowadays has a copy of Wild Swans lying around since its immense success in the 1990s. The book is often categorized as non-fiction, but reads like a literary novel, and cannot not be on this list; it is an account of the tumultuous Chinese 20th century from the perspective of three generations of women.

Wild Swans is sometimes called an example of ‘scar literature’ (伤痕文学), a genre that came up after the end of the Cultural Revolution in which authors shared the pain suffered by people during the 1960s, and which basically started with the publication of Lu Xinhua’s 1978 story “Scar.” Whether or not Wild Swans belongs in this category is up to debate, but what is undeniable is that this book offers a glimpse into an incredible time in the history of China in a personal and captivating way that formal history books could never do. An absolute recommendation for anyone who wants to know more about how the Cultural Revolution and the period before and after affected Chinese women, families, and society at large.

Get on Amazon: Wild Swans: Three Daughters of China

 
● #6 To Live (Yu Hua)

Year first published: 1993 (活着), English translation 2003 by Michael Berry  

To Live by Yu Hua (余华, 1960) is the novel that was most recommended to What’s on Weibo by readers upon asking for people’s favorite China books. The book has become an absolute classic, and follows the life of Fugui, a spoiled son of a wealthy landlord, who is changed forever after witnessing and experiencing the hardships of the Civil War and Cultural Revolution.

In 1994, this novel was used for the screenplay of the film by Zhang Yimou, starring Gong Li, which was later denied a theatrical release in mainland China due to its critical portrayal of various policies and campaigns of the Communist government.

Buy via Amazon: To Live 

Other recommend works by the same author:

 
● #7 Song of Everlasting Sorrow: A Novel of Shanghai (Wang Anyi)

First published in 1995 (长恨歌), English translation 2008 by Michael Berry & Susan Chan Egan

Wang Anyi (王安忆, 1954) is one of China’s most popular female authors, and The Song of Everlasting Sorrow is among her most famous works. The book traces the life story of the young Shanghainese girl Wang Qiyao from the 1940s, when Gone with the Wind played in Shanghai theatresuntil her tragic death after the Cultural Revolution, in the 1980s.

The city of Shanghai is at the heart of this book – its rooftops, its skyline, its birds, moonlight, sunsets its girls, and its gossip.

Get on Amazon here

 
● #8 A Dictionary of Maqiao (Han Shaogong)

Year first published 1996 (马桥词典), English translation 2003 by Julia Lovell 

Han Shaogong (韓少功, 1953) is a celebrated Chinese author who is also known as the leading figure within the 1980s ‘Xungen movement’ (寻根文学: literally ‘Finding Roots Literature’), a cultural and literary movement in mainland China in which writers started to focus on local and minority cultures as a new source of inspiration.

The narrative of A Dictionary of Maqiao takes places in an imaginary village in Southern China called ‘Maqiao.’ It is written as a dictionary, in which the author explains the words of the local language, and in doing so, tells the stories of rural China during the Cultural Revolution.

Get on Amazon here

 
● #9 Ocean of Words (Ha Jin)

First published in 1996 

This collection by Ha Jin (哈金, 1956, real name Jin Xuefei) won the 1997 PEN/Hemingway Award for best first work of fiction. Ha Jin was born in Liaoning, China, but emigrated to the US after studying in Massachusetts during the 1989 Tiananmen protests. Ha Jin is now an American national who writes in English.

Ocean of Words is a collection of short stories that all take place at the border between China and Russia during the early 1970s, after a series of border clashes, and focus on the soldiers of the People’s Liberation Army (PLA). Not coincidentally, Ha Jin also served the PLA himself from the age of 14, and spent a year at the Russian border.

Get on Amazon: Ocean of Words 

Also recommended by the same author:

 
● #10 Falling Leaves (Adeline Yen Mah) and Once Upon a Time in the East (Xiaolu Guo)

Years published: Falling Leaves in 1997 and Once Upon a Time in the East 2017

These are two books under one number, since we did not want to choose one over the other; these female authors have a lot in common despite their different ages and backgrounds, and this also shows in their books.

Adeline Yen Mah (马严君玲, 1937) and Xiaolu Guo (郭小橹, 1973) are two female authors of a very different generation, but in these works, they both very much focus on their family stories and their struggle to find their own independence and voice. Although these works do give a peek into some parts of Chinese history, they are more about Chinese family dynamics and culture.

Adeline Yen Mah is a Chinese-American author who was born in Tianjin. Her mother died of childbed fever soon after giving birth to her, which was to be the start of a difficult and abusive childhood for Yen Mah, who grew up with her sisters, her fathers, and her cruel Eurasian stepmother. It is Yen Mah’s own story that is the focus of Falling Leaves

Xiaolu Guo is a British-Chinese author who was born in 1973 and then handed over to a childless peasant couple in the mountains by her parents. Aged two, and suffering from malnutrition, Xiaolu is left with her illiterate grandparents in a fishing village on the East China Sea, and does not meet her own parents until she is almost seven years old. Once Upon a Time in the East is written from the perspective of a forty-year-old Xiaolu, who lives in London and is now becoming a mother herself, and has the urge to revisit her past memories and roots of the past, that now seems like a “foreign country” to her.

Get: Falling Leaves: The Memoir of an Unwanted Daughter
Get: Once Upon A Time in the East: A Story of Growing up

 
● #11 Shanghai Baby (Wei Hui)

Year first published: 1999 (上海宝贝), English translation 2001 by Bruce Humes

This is arguably one of the more controversial novels on this list, since it has sparked many discussions since its publication in the early years of the millennium, with many deeming it a “disgrace to Chinese culture” and a “shame to Chinese men.”

One of the reasons this book by Wei Hui (周卫慧, 1973) deserves attention is because it represents a genre of literature written by young female authors, known as ‘Beauty Writers’ (美女作家) who focused on topics generally deemed taboo in China around 2000. This book touches upon topics such as female orgasm, menstruation, oral sex, and other things that were somewhat rare to read about in modern Chinese novels before this time.

The novel revolves around the everyday life of the 25-year-old aspiring writer Coco, who works as a waitress in downtown Shanghai. The book, that is written as if it were the protagonist’s own diary, focuses on Coco’s life, her ambitions, (foreign) boyfriends, erotic encounters, and most importantly, on the city itself and the sexual awakening of a young Chinese writer on her way to success.

Buy via Amazon: Shanghai Baby a Novel 

 
● #12 Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress (Dai Sijie)

Originally published in 2000 (Balzac et la petite tailleuse chinoise), English translation by Ina Rilke

Dai Sijie (戴思杰, 1954) is a Chinese–French author and filmmaker who, as several authors on this list, was sent down to a ‘re-education camp’ in rural Sichuan during the Cultural Revolution. Much of his experience there was used in his book.

Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress is a captivating account that tells the story of two young men who become good friends with a local seamstress while spending time in a countryside village where they have been sent for “re-education” during the Cultural Revolution. Instead of a passion for Mao, they discover their love for (western) literature.

Get on Amazon here

Recommended by the same author:

 
● #13 Candy (Mian Mian)

Year first published: 2000 (糖), English translation 2003 by Andrea Lingenfelter

Just as the author of Shanghai Baby, Mian Mian (棉棉, 1970) is also one of China’s so-called ‘Beauty Writers’ (美女作家), whose works are characterized by its focus on the stories of a young urban female generation, leading a wild and extravagant lifestyle. For Shanghai Baby, Candy, but also for works such as Beijing Doll (2002, Chun Sue), it meant that their boldness soon also resulted in banishment within the PRC.

Candy tells the story of a young female high-school dropout who runs away to Shenzhen, where her new life is clouded by alcohol and drugs. About the book, the author writes: “This book exists because one morning as the sun was coming up I told myself that I had to swallow up all of the fear and garbage around me, and once it was inside me I had to transform it all into candy.”

Although it has been somewhat quiet around the author since her smashing debut and her lawsuit against Google, Mian Mian is still active on Weibo.

Buy: Candy by Mian Mian

 
● #14 Becoming Madame Mao (Anchee Min)


Year first published 2000

Anchee Min (閔安琪, 1957) is a Chinese-American author who is known for her works in which she focuses on strong female characters.  Becoming Madame Mao is a historical novel, that uses letters, poems, and quotations from original documents, detailing the life of Jiang Qing.

Jiang Qing, who is known as one of China’s most ‘evil women’, became ‘Madame Mao’ after her marriage to Mao Zedong. In this novel, Min shows another side of one of the most controversial political figures in the People’s Republic of China.

Get online: Becoming Madame Mao

Recommended by the same author:

 
● #15 Mao’s Last Dancer (Li Cunxin)

First published 2003

Just as a few other books on this list, such as Jung Chang’s Wild Swans, this book officially is not ‘fiction,’ since it is an autobiography – but it still reads like a novel. Li Cunxin (李存信, 1961) is a Chinese-Australian former ballet dancer whose intriguing life story is what this book is about. Li is selected to be trained as a ballet dancer at Madame Mao’s Beijing Dance Academy when he is just a young boy, and later gets the chance to travel to America as a visiting student, where he begins to question the Chinese Communist doctrines which he has been raised with.

Many people might know this book because of the film based on this work, directed by Bruce Beresford, that came out in 2009.

Buy online: Mao’s Last Dancer

 
● #16 Northern Girls (Sheng Keyi)

First published in: 2004 (北妹), English translation 2012 by Shelly Bryant

Sheng Keyi (盛可以, 1973) is among one of China’s newer generations of writers who focus on modern China. Like protagonist Qian Xiaohong in her book, Sheng was also born in a village in Hunan province and then worked and lived in Shenzhen. Staying close to her own experiences, this coming-of-age novel is about a community of fellow rural ‘northern girls’ in a search of a better life in the bustling city. 

Amazon has it here

 
● #17 Wolf Totem (Jiang Rong)

First published in 2004 (狼图腾), English translation 2008 by Howard Goldblatt

Wolf Totem is an award-winning semi-autobiographical novel about the experiences of a young student from Beijing who is sent to the countryside of Inner Mongolia during the Cultural Revolution. He lives with nomadic Mongols and learns from them, but also finds himself fascinated with the wolfs of the grasslands; their survival is threatened when are attacked by the government as ‘class enemies.’ The book became highly popular in China shortly after it was published, and more than a decade later, it still is very popular, especially since a film based on the novel came out in 2015.

Author Jiang Rong (姜戎 1946, real name Lü Jiamin) is very familiar with Inner Mongolia, as he went there at the age of 21 as “sent down youth,” and stayed there for eleven years. Wolf Totem is not just partly based on his experiences there, it is also a social commentary on the dangers of China’s economic growth and the destruction of culture, spirituality, and ecology.

To buy: Wolf Totem – a Novel

 
● #18 Dream of Ding Village (Yan Lianke)

First published in 2005 (丁庄梦), English translation 2009 by Cindy Carter

Yan Lianke (阎连科, 1958) is a leading author of modern Chinese literature; he is also called the Chinese author (inside of China) who has come closest to winning the Nobel Prize after Mo Yan. Dream of Ding Village was originally published in China, but then got banned. The narrative is about a place where poverty-stricken villagers are coerced into selling their blood and are subsequently infected with HIV by contaminated plasma injections. Although the book is fiction, these kinds of scandals, unfortunately, have taken place. Noteworthy enough, a Chinese film based on Yan’s (banned) book was made in 2011, called Love for Life (最爱).

About his work, Yan said in 2018: “China’s reality is complex and irrational. The people are always under the nation, their existence burdened by its great weight (..) I have been writing about people living under these circumstances, and believe my overseas readers can learn something universal from my stories about China.”

Buy: Dream of Ding Village

 
● #19 Leave Me Alone: A Novel of Chengdu (Murong Xuecun) 

First published in 2006 (成都,今夜请将我遗忘), English translation 2013 by Harvey Thomlinson

Murong Xuecun (慕容雪村, 1974, real name Hao Qun) is one of the younger authors in this list, whose debut Leave Me Alone: A Novel of Chengdu instantly made him famous and was long-listed for the Man Asian Literary Prize in 2008. The contemporary novel is focused on the lives of three young men who struggle to make their way in the dynamic city of Chengdu where gambling, womanizing, corruption, and cheating have become part of their everyday lives.

Murong Xuecun is known as an anti-censorship activist who reportedly had 8.5 million followers on his Weibo microblog accounts before they were forcibly closed. For an excerpt of the book see The New York Times here.

Buy online: Leave Me Alone

 
● #20 The Flowers of War (Yan Geling)

Year published: 2006 (金陵十三钗), English translation 2012 by Nicky Harman

Many people might have heard of The Flowers of War because of the film by Zhang Yimou, who has often made films based on Chinese literary works by authors such as Mo Yan, Yu Hua, or Su Tong. This novella by Geling Yan (严歌苓, 1958), inspired by the diaries of Minnie Vautrin, is set in Nanjing during the gruesome history of the 1937 Japanese invasion, also known as the ‘Rape of Nanjing.’  This story focuses on an American church compound in the ‘safety zone’ where a group of escapees tries to survive the violent invasion of the city.

The Nanjing massacre is deeply engraved into China’s collective memory, and stills plays a major role in Chinese art, literature, popular culture, and politics.

Geling Yan is one of the few authors in this list that is also active on Weibo.

Buy via Amazon: here

Other recommended works by the same author:

 
● #21 Happy Dreams (Jia Pingwa)

First published in 2007 (高兴), English translation 2017 by Nicky Harman

Jia Pingwa (贾平凹, 1952) is one of China’s most prominent authors, and this imaginative work, that came out in English in 2017, focuses on the tough lives of China’s migrant workers. The story is set in Xi’an and focuses on trash picker Hawa “Happy” Liu, a rural laborer who has arrived in the city in search of work, and his friend and fellow villager Wufu.

To buy: Happy Dreams

Also recommended by the same author:

 
● #22 Beijing Coma (Ma Jian)

Year Published: 2008, translated by Flora Drew

Beijing Coma tells the compelling story of Dai Wei, who lies in a coma in his mother’s flat in Beijing, whose memories “flash by like the lighted windows of a passing train” as we as readers are sucked into the pages – going back to those dorms days and discussions that eventually led to the massive Tiananmen student protests of 1989.

Buy via Amazon here: Beijing Coma 

Also must-read by the same author (who also just released his new book China Dream (2018)!):

 
● #23 The Vagrants (Yiyun Li)

First published 2009

This is the debut of the award-winning Chinese American author Yiyun Li (李翊雲, 1972), which takes place the late 1970s China in an impoverished rural town named Muddy River, where two parents wake up the day their daughter Gu Shan gets executed as a ‘counterrevolutionary.’ The book is dark and gripping, focusing on a world of oppression and pain, as it tells the stories of a group of very different characters who are all connected to each other.

About her writing style, Li told an interviewer: “People would say I portray the world in a bleak way. It’s not bleak to me. I think what is bleak is when you create a veil to make the world feel better. Literature is one place we should be able to experience bleakness and brightness and anything in between. Literature should not make people feel comfortable, it should challenge the readers.”

Get on Amazon: The Vagrants: A Novel

 
● #24 The Fat Years (Chan Koonchung)

First published in: 2009 (盛世——中国,2013年), English translation 2011 by Michael S. Duke

The Fat Years is a science fiction book that tells of a dystopian future of China and its political landscape by Chinese author Chan Koonchung (陈冠中, 1952), and for many people, it’s one of the more important China fiction books that have come out the past decade. “After the world’s second financial crisis in 2013, the government clings to power only after it sends troops into the streets for a month of bloody killing. Finally, the government laces the water with a chemical that makes people feel happy and eager to spend money” (Johnson 2011). The book has never come out in mainland China.

China columnist Didi Kirsten Tatlow said about The Fat Years: “Rarely does a novel tell the truth about a society in a way that has the power to shift our perceptions about that place in a certain way, but ‘The Fat Years’ does exactly that.” 

Get via Amazon: The Fat Years

 
● #25 Lotus (Lijia Zhang)

First published in 2017

Lijia Zhang (张丽佳, 1964) is an internationally acclaimed author and public speaker. Inspired by the secret life of the author’s grandmother, who was sold to a brothel at age 14, Lotus follows the life of a young prostitute in an urban China that is rapidly changing.

Zhang has called the subject of prostitution “an interesting window to observe/explore social tensions” in China. Recommended by the same author is her memoir Socialism Is Great!: A Worker’s Memoir of the New China. Also check out this interview with Lijia Zhang on the WAGIC website.

Get on Amazon: Lotus

 

Some bonus recommendations:

Running Through Beijing by Xu Zechen (徐则臣, 1978)

(First published 2008, 跑步穿过中关村, 2014 transl. Eric Abrahamsen)

Invisible Planets: Contemporary Chinese Science Fiction in Translation

(By Ken Liu 2016)

A Private Life by Chen Ran (陈染, 1962)

(First published 1996, 2004 transl. John Howard-Gibbon)

Raise the Red Lantern / Wives and Concubines by Su Tong (苏童, 1963) 

(First published 1990 妻妾成群, 2004 transl. Michael S. Duke)

Beijing Doll – A Novel by Chun Sue (春树)

(First published 2002 北京娃娃, 2004 transl. Howard Goldblatt)

 

Don’t forget to check out our top 30 of best non-fiction books on China.

 

By Manya Koetse

Note that due to the scope of this list we’ve applied several criteria. Books selected in this list are:

  • ..translated into English or written in English.
  • ..literary fiction works that take place in the People’s Republic of China, or in which Chinese modern history and/or society is an important theme, and that are relevant for people in getting a better grasp of Chinese history, society, urbanization, gender, literature, family relations etc.
  • ..not necessarily written by mainland Chinese authors, not necessarily originally written in Chinese.
  • ..published after 1978.

This list was compiled based on own preferences and that of many readers whom we asked about their favorite books within this category. If you think certain books are not here that should be here, please let us know and we might compile a second list in the future.

References

Abrahamsen, Eric. 2011. “Irony Is Good! – How Mao killed Chinese humor … and how the Internet is slowly bringing it back again.” Foreign Policy, January 12  https://foreignpolicy.com/2011/01/12/irony-is-good/ [24.12.18].

He Chengzhou. 2016. “Gao Xingjian’s Individualistic Revolt: Fiction, Biography, and Event.” MFS Modern Fiction Studies 62, no. 4: 627-643. https://muse.jhu.edu/ (accessed December 23, 2018).

Johnson, Ian. 2011. “On the Party Circuit, and Upsetting the Party.” New York Times, July 29 https://www.nytimes.com/2011/07/30/world/asia/30chan.html [27.12.18].

Koetse, Manya. 2009. “‘Stick Out Your Tongue’: A Banned Book on the Health of a Nation.” Essay [Universiteit Leiden], published online December 2012: https://www.manyakoetse.com/stick-out-your-tongue-a-banned-book-on-the-health-of-a-nation/.

Yang, Lan. 1998. Chinese Fiction of the Cultural Revolution. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press.

Yao, Yusheng. 2004. “The Elite Class Background of Wang Shuo and His Hooligan Characters.” Modern China 30, no. 4 (2004): 431-69.

Spotted a mistake or want to add something? Please let us know in comments below or email us.

©2018 Whatsonweibo. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce our content without permission – you can contact us at info@whatsonweibo.com

Manya is the founder and editor-in-chief of What's on Weibo, offering independent analysis of social trends, online media, and digital culture in China for over a decade. Subscribe to gain access to content, including the Weibo Watch newsletter, which provides deeper insights into the China trends that matter. More about Manya at manyakoetse.com or follow on X.

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7 Comments

7 Comments

  1. run 3

    March 22, 2019 at 8:33 am

    You have posted a trust worthy blog keep sharing.

  2. jeny

    May 4, 2019 at 11:25 am

    This is good

  3. Anne Teoh

    June 14, 2019 at 10:16 am

    Protest books, mostly mostly hubris, negating experiences and life in China. I can’t believe these are the only books written in China . As such, one might just be surface- reading for , as I’m well aware, life in China ‘s not just candy and pop corn all the way, but, as a massive country with a century of humiliation, poverty, wars and revolution, it’s also profoundly rich in literary matters with soul wrenching realisations (like everywhere) yet, they will have elements of transcendence and beauty that’s deeply moving – as I’d read of many ‘other’ books written in from China. There is yet one or two great Chinese writing to come… let it be worth our waiting.

  4. bubble shoot

    August 8, 2019 at 10:07 am

    The information you provide about the books is very good, thank you.

  5. Raze Unblocked

    October 3, 2019 at 10:56 am

    top 25 just would not be enough but thank for sharing

  6. basketball legends

    March 25, 2020 at 11:56 am

    Thank you very much for the information you provide about these works.

  7. rwc

    September 6, 2023 at 8:44 am

    This article by What’s on Weibo offers a valuable selection of modern literary fiction works centered on China, providing readers with a deeper understanding of its ever-evolving society. The focus on English-language books post-1978, the year of China’s ‘Reform and Opening Up,’ ensures relevance to contemporary Chinese literature. It’s a helpful resource for those seeking insight into China’s past and present through the lens of fiction. The inclusion of Amazon links and recommendations to explore local thrift stores adds a practical touch for readers interested in acquiring these literary gems.

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When an Entertainment Scandal Gets Political: How Wong Kar-wai Survived a Nationalist Storm

The 2025 scandal surrounding Wong Kar-wai shows that public outrage only produces consequences when it aligns with official interests.

Ruixin Zhang

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In 2025, Wong Kar-wai found himself at the center of one of China’s most explosive entertainment scandals of the year, one that began as a labor dispute and spiraled into a nationalist firestorm. But when this entertainment-industry controversy crossed into political red lines, something unexpected happened.

It’s safe to say that 2025 wasn’t the best year for Wong Kar-wai (王家卫, 1958), one of the most famous Chinese-language film directors in the world. The Hong Kong movie director is known for classic works like Chungking Express and In the Mood for Love. Besides his work, his iconic sunglasses are also famous – he rarely goes without them and is even nicknamed ‘Sunglasses’ (墨镜) or ‘Sunglass King’ (墨镜王) on Chinese social media.

But this year, discussions about Wong Kar-wai have gone well beyond his talent and looks. He became embroiled in what would turn into one of China’s biggest entertainment scandals of the year after a former staff member set out to expose him for exploitation and misconduct. Once the controversy spilled from entertainment into political territory, however, the dynamics of the story changed entirely.

 
A Fight for Credit
 

This story begins with the young Chinese screenwriter Gu Er (古二, real name Cheng Junnian 程骏年). He is the one who publicly accused Wong of exploitation and unethical work standards on social media (a story which we previously covered here).

Gu Er, a New York Film Academy graduate, returned to China after his studies and began building a career. In 2019, he joined the production team of Wong’s popular TV series Blossoms Shanghai, working long hours for meager pay, despite suffering from Kennedy’s disease, a motor neuron illness similar to ALS.

Cheng Junnian 程骏年, better known as Gu Er

In 2023, after the show premiered, Gu posted an article on Chinese social media titled “The Truth Behind the Writing of Blossoms” (《繁花》剧本的创作真相). He argued that he should have been credited as one of the principal writers but was instead listed only as a “preliminary editor,” buried at the end of the credits. The post sparked some discussion, but the controversy quickly faded.

It was not until last September that Gu Er released another essay titled “My Experience as a Screenwriter for Blossoms: A Summary” (我给《繁花》做编剧的经历——小结), which drew widespread attention. In the piece, he accused Wong Kar-wai of exploitation and detailed his creative work on the series, while also claiming that he was required to cook meals and run personal errands for Wong.

At one point, Gu Er describes how lead screenwriter Qin Wen (秦雯) allegedly tried to remove him from the production team after presenting his draft script as her own. According to Gu, Wong Kar-wai responded dismissively: “It’s just a few thousand yuan; he’s an assistant and can also write the script, it’s a bargain!”

Throughout 2025, Gu Er used his WeChat account to document his experiences and to upload audio recordings of conversations with members of the production team, including Wong Kar-wai and Qin Wen. These recordings were presented as evidence supporting his claims of exploitation, verbal abuse, and the denial of screenwriting credit.

In response to the controversy, the official account of the Blossoms Shanghai television series issued multiple statements denying that Gu Er deserved screenwriting credit and accusing him of abusing his position to secretly record private conversations among staff. The production team vowed to take legal action, and Gu Er’s entire WeChat account was soon shut down.

 
Leaked Recordings and Growing Backlash
 

Although his WeChat presence was erased, Gu Er refused to stay silent. In early November of 2025, he opened a new Weibo account (@古二新语) and, seemingly burning all of his bridges, continued releasing recordings involving Wong Kar-wai and members of the Blossoms Shanghai production team, triggering an unexpected shockwave over the past few weeks.

Gu Er released a series of audio recordings featuring Wong Kar-wai and others, including screenwriter Qin Wen and her assistant Xu Siyao (许思窈). In some of these recordings, they are heard mocking Gu Er; Qin appears to struggle to recall plot details she allegedly wrote herself; and Xu Siyao openly admits that an important storyline in Blossoms Shanghai originated from Gu Er’s writing.

Visuals from Blossoms Shanghai.

Wong Kar-wai and Qin Wen also spend a surprising amount of time ridiculing figures across the Chinese film and television industry, from respected senior veterans to obscure streaming-film directors, dismissively labeling them as “fake.”

What stunned the public even more were Wong Kar-wai’s crude remarks about actresses. In one recording, he comments on actress Jin Jing’s breasts and jokes, “I must get her” (“我一定要搞金靖”). Jin is not a major star, and in the final cut of Blossoms Shanghai, all of her scenes were removed. In another clip, Wong addresses screenwriter Qin Wen in a sexually suggestive and harassing tone, saying that if she had a body like Jin’s, she would not have “survived” her early years in the industry as a writer, because “I would definitely have taken you” (“我一定收你”).

Qin Wen

After this wave of leaks, the recordings—together with Gu Er’s earlier accusations—spread widely across major Chinese social media platforms. Many netizens expressed disapproval of the misogyny, gossip, and backbiting revealed in the recordings and began reevaluating Wong Kar-wai as a person, as well as his past works. Others questioned the legitimacy of Gu Er’s methods, particularly the recordings and leaks. Legal experts noted that secretly recording conversations could violate privacy laws, and that selectively edited clips might even constitute defamation.

 
Crossing the Red Line
 

Then, on November 8, Gu Er released a new recording that fundamentally altered the nature of the incident. The audio features a conversation among Wong Kar-wai, Blossoms Shanghai co-director Li Shuang (李爽), and producer Peng Qihua (彭绮华), in which they discuss COVID controls, Japan, and China’s political system.

In the recording, Wong says that the Communist Party only wants “chives” (jiǔcài, 韭菜) to harvest and describes China as a “greedy one-party state.” In Chinese internet slang, jiǔcài refers to ordinary people who are repeatedly exploited, compared to chives that are cut and grow back, only to be harvested again. When Li mentions his collection of Japanese katanas and samurai outfits, Wong jokes that, given China’s current tensions with Japan, if the collection were discovered, Li would be publicly denounced and paraded, much like during the Cultural Revolution.

Wong even suggested: “If they find [the samurai swords], just put a Chinese flag on them and say you really hate those Japanese devils.”

The Weibo post was deleted within minutes, but the recordings spread quickly.

Nationalist netizens flooded Wong’s comment section, calling him a hànjiān (汉奸, traitor to the Chinese nation), and demanding that he “get out of China.” Some conspiracy-minded users even claimed that the title of Wong’s famous TV series Blossoms (繁花 fánhuā) was intentionally chosen because it sounds like “anti-China” (反华 fǎnhuá), alleging that Wong had embedded a subversive message in the title.

Suddenly, many who had previously viewed the scandal as mere entertainment began taking sides—calling for the show to be taken down and for investigations into Wong, Li, and others involved.

 
Unusual Twist in a Familiar Script
 

In China’s public sphere, once criticism touches on the state or the Party, everything becomes more complicated. Many began questioning whether Gu Er had gone too far in leaking these conversations, and whether this was a political terror tactic disguised as personal justice.

Weaponizing nationalism to ruin a public figure is actually nothing new.

Ten years ago, CCTV host Bi Fujian (毕福剑) was recorded at a private dinner mocking Mao Zedong and was immediately fired, vanishing from public life. In 2021, actor Zhang Zhehan (张哲瀚) was canceled after taking photos near the controversial Yasukuni Shrine in Tokyo—a site that honors Japan’s war dead, including convicted war criminals. In 2022, writer Yan Geling (严歌苓) was erased from the Chinese internet almost overnight after calling Xi Jinping a “human trafficker” in commentary about a trafficking case.

Given this history, and the fact that Wong has remained silent since the leaks began, mainland audiences now fear that Wong Kar-wai could join China’s celebrity “blacklist.” Some even worry they might never see In the Mood for Love again, others fear a broadcast ban for Blossoms.

Will Wong Kar-wai become the Next Bi Fujian? All past punishment-for-speech cases have followed a familiar script: a leak emerges, nationalists erupt, official mouthpieces like Xinhua step in to shape the narrative, and punishment follows swiftly. In Bi Fujian’s case, for example, the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection issued a public condemnation within a week.

But this time, although nationalists are already outraged on social media and calling for Wong’s “anti-China” remarks to be punished, not a single major central media outlet has echoed their anger. In fact, shortly after Gu released the new recordings, the Blossoms team issued a statement accusing him of fabrication and malicious slander—and The Paper, a state-affiliated Shanghai outlet, amplified it. That was the first signal of how authorities might lean.

 
Too Valuable to Cancel?
 

Does this all mean China has become more tolerant of political criticism? Is the red line for what can and can’t be said shifting? Some believe the only reason Wong escaped harsher consequences is that he didn’t mention specific leaders by name, which is the quickest way to get into serious trouble. While that’s plausible, another reason may carry more weight: Wong Kar-wai is useful to the state’s cultural agenda.

Despite the comments in the recordings, Wong’s stance toward the authorities is not overtly hostile. In recent years, he has cooperated with state-backed projects. Blossoms, in particular, is part of Shanghai’s cultural branding campaign, with full support from Party-led propaganda departments. It received major state funding and was included as a central project on CCTV’s 2024 slate.

Wong is also a globally recognized auteur with real prestige in the West, making him valuable to China’s propaganda strategy of “telling China’s story well” (讲好中国故事).

Dropping such a cultural asset over a scandal stirred up by a disgruntled writer would be politically and culturally costly. This might explain why the official response has been unusually mild.

Many observers mistakenly assume that in China, once public outrage reaches a certain level, authorities will respond accordingly. But that’s only true when popular opinion and official interests are aligned. When they’re not—when the Party-state sees strategic value in protecting someone—public outcry changes nothing. If the Party believes Wong is worth keeping, then some of his comments will simply be forgiven.

 
The Cost of Speaking Out
 

At the center of this entire story is Gu Er. Was he wrong to weaponize nationalist outrage? Were his methods excessive or dangerous? Reactions are mixed. Some argue that leaking private recordings (especially political ones) is troubling and contributes to a climate of fear and self-censorship. Others sympathize, believing that Gu Er, who has suffered so much both physically and emotionally, shouldn’t be judged too harshly.

In the well-known Fanpai Yingping (反派影评) podcast, film journalist Bomi argued that Gu didn’t intentionally politicize the conflict; rather, he was responding within a system that had already politicized his case. Wong’s team never approached the issue as a civil labor dispute. They had enough opportunities to negotiate or settle, but instead, but chose not to . Perhaps it was arrogance. Or perhaps a confidence that the show, backed as a state-supported “main melody” (主旋律) production tied to enormous interests, would never be abandoned.

There seems to have been a clear mission to silence Gu Er. After shutting down his WeChat account, members of staff allegedly tried to intimidate him by visiting the house of his 90-year-old grandmother to deliver legal letters.

In the November 8 statement by the team, they accused him of “inciting social division” (“煽动社会对立”) and “manipulating negative emotions” (“诱导负面情绪”) and claimed he was “evading domestic legal investigation” (“逃避国内司法调查和认定”) by staying overseas—all language that is reminiscent of official state announcements. Some netizens even suggested it evoked the tone of old-school ideological and political denunciation—strong on rhetoric but lacking in substantive legal action. They frame this entire story into the context of a powerful production crew violating labor law treating a powerless writer like a political criminal.

The repercussions of this controversy are far from over, and to what extent it will have consequences for both Wong Kar-wai and Gu Er remains to be seen. Will Wong ever speak out? Will Gu Er be silenced forever?

Regardless, it is clear that Wong’s reputation has suffered. Long regarded as a “hero” of Chinese cinema, this incident has changed how many in mainland China now perceive the famous “Sunglasses.” Some call him a misogynist; others denounce him for exploiting staff. Still others see him as a hypocrite, suggesting that although he criticizes authoritarianism in the leaked recordings, he operates and thrives within that very system. One Weibo commenter wrote that the “Sunglasses King turned out to be the villain of the story.”

Although Gu Er has also received criticism for his actions, he has encouraged others through his insistence on standing up to those in power who bullied and discredited him. Recently, another screenwriter posted on Xiaohongshu about a similar experience: after independently completing the full script for a Chinese drama, he discovered that the boss had listed themself as Head Screenwriter in the end credits. The post was tagged “Gu Er” and received hundreds of comments, with many users sharing their own stories of being exploited as scriptwriters.

Even turning the dispute into a political issue failed to bring Gu Er any justice or revenge on his exploitative former employer. Still, he has gained something else: recognition from others, for whom his resistance has become a source of inspiration. Even if it was not the kind of recognition he originally sought, Gu Er still gets his credit in the end.

By Ruixin Zhang edited for clarity by Manya Koetse

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China Celebs

Quiet Nationalism, Loud Statements, and Nanjing Memorial Day

From war memory to viral eggs, salty cakes, an unfortunate dinner party and farewell to an iconic actress.

Manya Koetse

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🔥 China Trend Watch — Week 50 (2025)
Part of Eye on Digital China. This edition was sent to paid subscribers — subscribe to receive the next issue in your inbox.


Welcome to the Eye on Digital China newsletter. This is the China Trend Watch edition — a quick catch-up on real-time conversations.

I’ve rounded up my latest China trip that brought me from Chongqing to Nanjing, Wuhan, Zaozhuang and Beijing, for some of my research on Chinese remembrances of war. Along the way, I have met many friendly people and had interesting converations, from hanging out with a group of Wuhan teenagers to lively conversations with retired seniors in Shandong.

A small and short personal observation, if I may, regarding the current tensions between China and Japan.

I vividly remember the atmosphere on the streets during earlier moments when tensions ran sky-high—most notably in 2012, after a major diplomatic crisis erupted over Japan’s nationalization of several disputed Senkaku/Diaoyu Islands. That episode triggered large-scale anti-Japanese protests across China and spilled unmistakably into everyday life. In Beijing’s Sanlitun area, for instance, there was a street food vendor who put up a large sign proclaiming, “The Diaoyu Islands belong to China.” In the hutong neighborhoods, it seemed as though virtually every household had hung a Chinese flag by its door. Books about Japan that I purchased locally later turned out to have entire pages ripped out. My favorite sushi restaurant suddenly displayed a sign explaining that its brand was, in fact, very Chinese and had nothing to do with Japan. Nearby, in the clothing markets around the Beijing Zoo, T-shirts bearing nationalistic slogans related to the islands dispute were on sale at multiple stalls.

By contrast, during my most recent stay in Nanjing and beyond—despite the increasingly militant tone of state media and social media campaigns surrounding Japan, and despite the undeniable persistence of anti-Japanese sentiment—I noticed far fewer visible expressions of it in daily life. There were no slogan T-shirts, no banners, no overt street-level signaling. While news came out that a string of Japanese performances in China were canceled, I noticed hotel waitress fully dressed in a Japanese kimono at an in-house Japanese restaurant. Local bookstores are filled with works by Japanese authors, and Japanese popular culture appear to be thriving and coexisting comfortably with China’s own flourishing ACG (anime, comics, and games) industry.

Is there simply less anti-Japanese sentiment than over a decade ago? Or is it, perhaps, that in today’s highly digitalized Xi Jinping era, nationalist narratives are more tightly managed and increasingly channeled online—making people more cautious, more restrained, or simply less inclined to express political sentiments openly in public space?

A cab driver in Chongqing told me he believed there was “something wrong” with Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi and the influence she has had on bilateral relations since her rise to power. While supporting his government’s tough stance and expressing sadness over the scars left by war, he also mentioned that he had enjoyed a pleasant conversation earlier that same morning with a young Japanese man he had driven to the train station.

“We didn’t talk about the latest clash,” he said. “If find that too sensitive to mention. He spoke Chinese, he studied Chinese, like you. I don’t hate today’s Japanese people at all. In the end, we’re all just people. What’s happening now is something between the leadership.”

He spoke at length while driving me to the station, signaling that the topic clearly weighed on him. It left me with the sense that the absence of banners or T-shirts does not mean the issue has faded from everyday life, only that it is not expressed as a mass spectacle like it was in earlier years. It has become quieter, more online, and more filtered through official narratives, but it is still very much alive.

There is a lot more to say, but it is Sunday after all, and there is plenty more to read here, so let’s dive in.

Quick Scroll
  • 🍓 Chinese consumers were pretty salty this week when discovering their pricey strawberry cake from Alibaba supermarket chain Hema (盒马) tasted all wrong. Hema acknowledged a production issue (they didn’t say it outright, but salt was allegedly used instead of sugar) and the incident triggered discussions about food safety & quality control in automated food production, especially when such a major mistake happens at high-profile companies.
  • 🌡️ China’s announced ban on mercury thermometers (as of Jan 1st 2026) has sparked a buying frenzy, as many consumers, reluctant to switch to electronic alternatives, still prefer mercury models for their perceived accuracy and convenience. Despite nearly half of annual mercury poisoning cases being linked to broken thermometers, prices have now surged from around 4 yuan ($0.6) to over 30 yuan ($4.25), and stores have reported complete sellouts.
  • ❄️ Beijing welcomed its first snowfall of winter 2025 this week, leading to lovely social media pics and the Beijing Palace Museum tickets selling out instantly. Experiencing and capturing that first snowfall at the Forbidden City has become somewhat of a holy grail on social media.
  • 🕵️‍♂️ A local construction site in Shanghai unexpectedly became the scene of a modern-day treasure hunt after dozens of residents armed with shovels and metal detectors rushed to the area following online rumors that silver coins (including valuable older ones) had been found. Authorities had to intervene and, while not confirming the rumors, emphasized that any buried cultural relics belong to the state.
  • 🇷🇺 Since this month, Chinese citizens can enter Russia visa-free for up to 30 days, a policy that led Chinese state media to claim that “Russia is replacing Japan as a new favorite among Chinese tourists.” On social media, however, the vibe is different, with travelers complaining about high prices, poor internet, lack of online payments, unreliable ATMs, and the need for thorough trip preparation — all reasons why Russia is unlikely to become the go-to destination for the Chinese New Year.
  • 🫏 An investigation by Beijing Evening News revealed that many of the capital’s popular donkey meat sandwich shops are actually serving horse meat without informing customers. China’s donkey shortage — driven by declining domestic supply, rising demand for the traditional Chinese medicine Ejiao (which uses donkey hides), and an African export ban — has been a hot topic this year. Now that it’s directly affecting a beloved delicacy, the issue is drawing even more public attention.
What Really Stood Out This Week

1. Why This Year’s Nanjing Memorial Day Felt Different

[#第十二个国家公祭日#] [#为30多万死难同胞发条微博#] [#19371213永不敢忘#] #[以国之名悼我同胞#]

Posters published by various Chinese state media outlets to commemorate the Nanjing Massacre.

December 13 marked the 88th anniversary of the fall of Nanjing, and this year’s Nanjing Memorial Day (南京大屠杀难者国家公祭日), although described as a low-key commemoration by foreign media, was trending all over Chinese social media.

During the Second Sino-Japanese War, on December 12, 1937, the Japanese army attacked Nanjing from various directions, and defending Chinese forces suffered heavy casualties. A day later, the city was captured. It marked the beginning of a six-week-long massacre filled with looting, arson, and rape, during which, according to China’s official data, at least 300,000 residents, including children, elderly, and women, were brutally murdered.

This year, the Nanjing Massacre Memorial Day, which was first officially held as a state-level event in 2014, carried extra weight. This dark chapter of history has continuously been a sensitive topic in Sino-Japanese relations, but with recent diplomatic tensions between the two countries reaching new heights, the Memorial Day was especially tied to current-day relations between China and Japan and to Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi, who has been described by Chinese media as an “ultranationalist” with tendencies to downplay Japan’s wartime aggression. Takaichi’s November 2025 parliamentary statement that a Chinese military action against Taiwan could be considered a “survival-threatening situation” for Japan, allowing for the deployment of its Self-Defense Forces, continues to fuel Chinese anger.

The link between history and current-day bilateral relations was visible not only on social media, but also during the commemoration itself, where Shi Taifeng (石泰峰), head of the ruling Communist Party’s Organization Department, said that any attempt to revive militarism and challenge the postwar international order is “doomed to fail.”

Besides the many online posters disseminated by Chinese official accounts on social media focusing on mourning, quiet commemoration, and honoring the lives of the 300,000 Chinese compatriots killed in Nanjing, one official online visual stood out for displaying a louder and more aggressive message—namely that posted by the official Weibo account of the Eastern Theater Command of the Chinese People’s Liberation Army (@东部战区).

The visual posted by the PLA Eastern Theater Command, titled: Rite of the Great Saber (大刀祭).

The visual showed a strong hand holding a giant blood-stained blade that is beheading a skeleton wearing a helmet marked “militarism,” with images related to the Nanjing Massacre visible on the blade and, behind it, a map of East Asia. The number “300000” appears in red, dripping like blood. At the top, the characters read “Rite of the Great Saber” or “The Great Saber Sacrifice” (大刀祭).

The official account explained the visual, writing: “(…) 88 years have passed and the blood of the heroic dead has not yet dried, [yet] the ghost of militarism is making a comeback. Each year, on National Memorial Day, a deafening alarm is sounded, reminding us that we must—at all times hold high the great saber offered in blood sacrifice, resolutely cut off filthy heads, never allow militarism to return, and never allow historical tragedy to be repeated.”

The text’s “cut off filthy heads” phrasing is similar to part of a now-deleted tweet sent out last month by the Chinese Consul General in Osaka, Xue Jian (薛剑), who responded to Takaichi’s controversial Taiwan remarks by writing (in Japanese): “If you come charging in on your own like that, there’s nothing to do but cut that filthy neck down without a moment’s hesitation. Are you prepared?” (“勝手に突っ込んできたその汚い首は一瞬の躊躇もなく斬ってやるしかない。覚悟が出来ているのか。”)

The recent visuals, social media approach, and shifts in texts reflect a clear change in tone in Chinese official discourse regarding Japan and the memory of war, moving the narrative from victimhood toward a more confrontational and militant tone.

2. He Qing, China’s “No. 1 Classical Beauty”, Passes Away at 61

[#演员何晴去世#][#演员何晴离世#]

He Qing. Images on the sides: the four famous roles in China’s most iconic tv dramas.

China’s “No. 1 Classical Beauty” (古典第一美女), He Qing (何晴), who starred in all four of China’s most beloved and canonical television dramas, passed away on Saturday at the age of 61. On December 14, news of the famous actress’s passing was trending across virtually all Chinese social media apps.

Born in 1964 into an artistic family in Jiangshan, Zhejiang Province, He Qing received traditional Chinese opera (Kunqu) training at the Zhejiang Kunqu Opera Troupe. Her debut in the entertainment industry may have come by chance, as she reportedly once met Chinese director Yang Jie (杨洁) on a train, which led to her joining the production of Journey to the West (西游记), where she played Lingji Bodhisattva (灵吉菩萨).

In China, He Qing is remembered as a veteran actress in much the same way that some famous Hong Kong actresses became renowned for their beauty, iconic roles, and for essentially becoming household names. More than just glitter and glamour, He Qing was especially a symbol of classical Chinese beauty and literary culture. She was the only actress to star in screen adaptations of all four of China’s “Four Great Classical Novels” (演遍四大名著): besides Journey to the West (西游记, 1986), she also appeared in Dream of the Red Chamber (红楼梦, 1987), Romance of the Three Kingdoms (三国演义, 1994), and Water Margin (水浒传, 1998).

She was married to fellow actor Xu Yajun (许亚军), with whom she had a son, Xu He (许何). Although the two later divorced, she remained close to her ex-husband and even befriended his new (and fourth) wife, Zhang Shu (张澍).

In 2015, He Qing was diagnosed with a brain tumor. After her diagnosis, she withdrew from the entertainment industry to focus on her recovery and lived a low-key life in her later years.

Her passing has prompted an outpouring of tributes from Chinese netizens and colleagues in the entertainment industry. Mourning her loss comes with a sense of nostalgia for the past, and many have praised He Qing for her timeless beauty and authenticity, which will be remembered long after her passing.

3. And Then There Were None: Dinner Party of Ten Leaves One Man with the Bill

[#10人聚餐后9人离开#] [#10人聚餐留下1人称付钱就是冤大头#]

Ten dine together, nine slip away..one left for the bill, who he refused to pay…

Do you know that nursery rhyme where ten little soldiers disappear one by one until none remain at the end? That is more or less what happened earlier this month in Chongqing, when ten people dined together at a restaurant, but—once it came time to pay—nine people left one by one.

One had to answer a phone call, another had to use the restroom, and in the end, just before midnight, only Mr. Zhang was left, facing a bill of 1,262 yuan ($180), which he refused to pay. He argued that he could not afford it and that the dinner party hadn’t been initiated by him at all; as merely a participant, the bill shouldn’t have been his responsibility.

After the restaurant called the police, the organizer of the dinner was contacted. But he, too, said he couldn’t pay. Through police mediation, Mr. Zhang then wrote a written commitment promising to pay the bill the following day and left his ID as collateral, but he still failed to make the payment.

By now, the restaurant is planning to sue and has also contacted the Chinese media. According to Zhang, who apparently has been unable to contact his “friends” to collect the money: “I did make the promise, but if I pay the money, wouldn’t that make me a sucker?” (“我的确承诺了,但你说我把钱付了,我是不是冤大头啊”)

As the story went completely viral (by now, even Hu Xijin has weighed in) comment sections filled with broader social reflections on alcohol-fueled group gatherings and unclear payment rules, where one person sometimes ends up paying for everything despite feeling it wasn’t their role to do so. In this era of digital payments, many argue it should be easy enough to go Dutch and settle the bill immediately via a group payment app.

Although Zhang is seen by some as a victim, others argue that he is still a “sucker” for not paying after having promised to do so. As one commenter put it: “Out of the ten of them, not a single one is a good person.”


Word of the Week

Real Person Vibes [活人感 (huóréngǎn)

Every December, the ten most popular buzzwords, key terms, or expressions of the year are listed by the Chinese linguistics magazine Yǎowén Jiáozì (咬文嚼字), selecting words that reflect present-day society and changing times. Each year, the list goes trending and is widely disseminated by Chinese media.

This week, the 2025 list was released, including terms such as Digital Nomads 数字游民 (shù zì yóu mín), Sū Chāo (苏超), referring to the hugely popular amateur Jiangsu Super League football competition, and “Pre-made ××” (预制, yù zhì), following a year filled with discussions about pre-fab and pre-made food (see article).

My favorite word on the list is “Real-Person Vibes” (活人感 huó rén gǎn). The term literally consists of three characters meaning “living – human – feeling,” and it describes people, stories, or things that feel unpolished, spontaneous, and unfiltered—something that has become increasingly relevant in a year dominated by AI-generated content and visuals.

Amid over-curated feeds and AI-produced text, we crave huóréngǎn: authenticity, small imperfections, and liveliness as an antidote to a digital, artificial world.

On the Feed

The 9:12 Boiled Egg That Took Over Douyin


How do you get a perfect boiled egg? A Douyin user known as “Loves Eating Eggs” (爱吃蛋) has become all the rage after leaving a precise comment on how to boil eggs. His advice: First boil the water, then add the eggs, boil for exactly 9 minutes and 12 seconds, remove, and immediately run under cold water.

That simple tip catapulted his follower count from around 200 to over 3.5 million in a single week (I just checked—he’s up to 4.2 million now).

The new viral hit is a 24-year-old self-proclaimed egg expert (of course, his English nickname should be the Eggxpert). He claims to have eaten 40 eggs a day for the past five years and knows exactly how every second of boiling, frying, or stirring affects an egg. He regularly posts videos showing eggs cooked for different lengths of time.

It has earned him the nicknames “Egg God” (蛋神) and “Boiled Egg Immortal” (煮蛋仙人), and has sent boiled eggs (9 minutes and 12 seconds exactly) all over social media feeds.

Thanks for reading this Eye on Digital China China Trend Watch. For slower-moving trends and deeper structural analysis, keep an eye on the upcoming newsletters.

And if you happen to be reading this without a subscription and appreciate my work, consider joining to receive future issues straight in your inbox.

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Many thanks to Miranda Barnes for helping curate some of the topics in this edition.

Manya

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email me. First-time commenters require manual approval.

©2025 Eye on Digital China / What’s on Weibo. Do not reproduce without permission —
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