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Weibo Watch: Forgotten Allies
Chinese online reactions to the war in the Middle East are intertwined with echoes of China’s own national suffering and its modern history.
Published
1 year agoon

PREMIUM NEWSLETTER | ISSUE #16
This week’s newsletter:
◼︎ 1. Editor’s Note – Forgotten allies
◼︎ 2. What’s Trending – A closer look at the featured stories
◼︎ 3. What More to Know – Highlighting 8 hot topics
◼︎ 4. What’s Noteworthy – Taiwanese Chatbot or Made in Mainland?
◼︎ 5. What’s Popular – Baidu’s AI-Native Map
◼︎ 6. What’s Memorable – The Jewish refugees of Shanghai
◼︎ 7. Weibo Word of the Week – “Reverse Consumption”
Dear Reader,
‘The past is never dead. It’s not even past.’ This Faulkner quote is timeless, and it’s particularly relevant in these times marked by global conflicts and wars, where complicated histories are interwoven with complex present realities. While the whole world is watching as the Israel-Hamas war rages, the positions taken by different nations, social groups, and international organizations are deeply entwined with religion, geo-politics, and, perhaps most significantly, with the weight of history.
Over the past two weeks, a noticeable pro-Palestine sentiment has emerged on Chinese social media, which is closely tied to the alignment of Chinese scholars and the government’s position. In a 2013 article, Yiyi Chen, Director of the Institute for Hebrew and Jewish Studies at Peking University, predicted that China’s pro-Palestine stance would increasingly work against Israel in the long term – in contrast to the strong pro-Israel stance of the United States.*
Chen’s 2013 article is especially relevant because many of the observations he made a decade ago are now manifesting themselves in clear ways. For instance, he highlighted the significant increase in China’s pro-Palestine articles, a trend that is evident today. His prediction that China would take on a more proactive role in seeking a resolution to the Israel-Palestine conflict has also proven accurate.
A central point raised in Yiyi Chen’s article is that China’s leaning toward supporting the Arab side can also be attributed to some factors that are deeply rooted in China’s national history. First, he argues that the national mentality of being a “victim of imperialism” plays an important role in shaping the country’s foreign policy, and is reflected in China’s present-day sympathy for Palestinians, as they too are seen as sufferers from imperialism. In this view, the State of Israel was established with the backing of imperial powers of the time.
Second, Chen suggests that China’s pro-Palestine stance is also driven by a sense of reciprocity. The Chinese, he argues, show favoritism toward Palestinians because Arab countries supported China on the international stage during the 1960s and 1970s, a period when China was otherwise isolated due to strained relations with the West.
Alongside the recent surge in pro-Palestine sentiments on Chinese social media, there has also been a clear rise in anti-Semitic expressions, including hate-filled comments and images targeting Jews, often referencing to Nazi Germany or the Holocaust. This online anti-Jewish sentiment is surprising given the historical ties that China shares with the Jewish community, a connection that has experienced a “memory revival” both in China and Israel over the past two decades, coinciding with the blossoming of China-Israel bilateral relations.
In 1938, when Europe became increasingly perilous for Jews, around 20,000 Jewish refugees sought sanctuary in Shanghai, and the great majority survived the war. The history of Jews in Shanghai during World War II is preceded by a long history of the Jewish diaspora in China. China is the only country in East Asia where Jews have consecutively lived for the last 1000 years. Although the first Jewish population in Shanghai arrived much later in history, it rapidly grew into one of China’s most vibrant Jewish communities.
While portions of the old Jewish neighborhood in Shanghai have now disappeared, new initiatives are keeping its memories alive. The former synagogue in the neighborhood now houses the Shanghai Jewish Refugees Museum, established in 2007 to commemorate the Jewish refugees who sought shelter in Shanghai. The museum frequently hosts new exhibits and events to engage the public. The historical revival of Shanghai’s Jewish history also takes place outside museums, as stories of war are narrated in popular culture and in online media.

Statue commemorating Jewish community in Shanghai outside of the Jewish Refugee Museum (photo by Whatsonweibo).
Beyond China’s historical role in providing a safe haven for Jewish refugees during the war, the Jewish-Chinese friendship also has a deeper dimension. Similar to how Chinese link their own scars of national humiliation to the present realities of Palestians, many Chinese also align the historical sufferings of China with the hardships endured by the Jewish community.
In light of the recent Israel-Hamas conflict, some Chinese commenters posting anti-Semitic comments and sharing hateful WWII-related images appear to have forgotten their Jewish friends and warm relations with Israel. The suffering they now mock is something that China has related to before. Simultaneously, these commenters are shifting their focus to the struggles of their other ‘forgotten’ allies on the opposing side of the conflict.
Chinese online reactions to the ongoing war in the Middle East, and the shifting alliances they remember or forget, are deeply intertwined with echoes of China’s own national suffering and its modern history, and reflects the intricate interplay of factors such as collective memory, foreign policy, and reciprocity. As these dynamics play out all over the world in different ways and national contexts, in a moment marked by confusion, anger, and intense emotions, it becomes increasingly important to recognize that while historical parallels and associations matter, these perspectives, preconceptions, and reflections also obstruct nuanced understandings that can actually contribute to less black-and-white thinking and more constructive discussions.
For more about this, also check out our feature article on Chinese reactions to the Israel-Hamas War. Miranda Barnes contributed to this week’s newsletter. As always: please don’t hesitate to reach out to me about the latest China trends you spotted and would like to know more about. Contact me via email or DM, or follow me on X for the latest news and trends (or on Instagram here and here).
Best,
Manya
* Chen, Yiyi. 2013. “The Basis of China’s Pro-Palestine Stance and the Current Status of Its Implementation.” Digest of Middle East Studies 22 (2): 215-228.
What’s Trending
1. Pro-Palestine Sentiments | The Israel-Hamas war has been dominating discussions on Weibo. Amid the different Chinese responses to what’s happening in Israel and Gaza, recurring trends and narratives highlight how social media reactions and their pro-Palestine stance are connected to China’s own historical context and perceived global role, as well as Chinese anti-Jewish prejudices. We explore these dynamics in this latest (premium) article.
2: Singapore Slang | Interesting debate on terminology: is it time to rethink how Singapore is nicknamed in Chinese? In a recent column for Lianhe Zaobao, prominent author Wang Huidi argued that it’s time to stop referring to Singapore as “坡县” (Pōxiàn), which means “Slope County”. The Chinese slang term implies that Singapore is a small part of China. Wang highlights the power of words, suggesting that such terminology can negatively impact both Singapore and those who use it.
3: A Leak at Tsingtao | A video that has circulated on Chinese social media since October 19 shows how an alleged worker at a Tsingtao Beer factory climbs over a wall at the raw material production site and starts to urinate. On Weibo, many people think it’s an undercover operation orchestrated by a rivaling company: one person peed, another leaked the video?
4: Featured by VOA | What’s on Weibo was featured on Voice of America News earlier this week. This article, by Liam Scott, focuses on the mission of What’s on Weibo, which celebrates a decade since its launch this year. This article highlights how it all started, the focus of our work, and the transformation of Chinese social media.
What More to Know

Controversy over the Dalian marathon.
◼︎ 🌐 1. Belt and Road Forum. The third Belt and Road Forum was held in Beijing this week, with the One Belt, One Road Initiative celebrating its 10th anniversary. On October 17th, various foreign heads of state and government leaders who were attending the forum arrived at the Great Hall of the People. The next day, Xi Jinping delivered his opening speech on “Building an Open, Inclusive and Interconnected World For Common Development” (link). While the two-day global gathering was enthusiastically promoted on Chinese social media, it was overshadowed by the ongoing major crisis in the Middle East. The event was attended by 23 heads of state and government. (Hashtag:”10 Years of Belt and Road” #一带一路十周年# , 51+ million views; Belt and Road International Cooperation Forum #一带一路国际合作高峰论坛#, 83 million views).
◼︎ 🇷🇺 2. Putin in China . On the morning of October 17th, Russian President Putin landed at Beijing Capital International Airport, marking his arrival for the Belt and Road Forum. His visit was highly anticipated, and various details surrounding his trip received close scrutiny on Chinese social media. One such detail was the alleged ‘nuclear suitcase’ that accompanied him during his trip, carried by officers, and which was caught on camera. Another moment that drew widespread attention was the news conference Putin gave at Diaoyutai. With the backdrop of red lanterns, that news conference had a strong Chinese ambiance. The uncommon and unique moment of seeing the Russian leader at this historic state guesthouse made many netizens feel proud of China and its role on the world stage. (Hashtag Putin Arrives in China #普京总统抵达北京#, 280 million views on Weibo).
◼︎ 🦸 3. Real Name Influencers. Chinese social media has been buzzing with discussions regarding a rumored upcoming implementation of a real-name system for Weibo influencers. If such a system were implemented, it would mean that the ‘Big Vs’, social media influencers with a substantial following and a verified account, would have to display their real name on their Weibo account page. This system appears to be on the verge of becoming a reality, as Weibo’s CEO, Wang Gaofei, personally tested it on his own page, stating that the rule would only apply to those influential self-media accounts with more than a million fans. Weibo already had a back-end real name registration policy, but this would be the first time that people would be obliged to also show their actual names on the front end. (Various discussions without hashtags, one Weibo hashtag is “It’s Time for Big Vs to Take Their Masks Off“ #大V早该卸马甲了#, 36.4 million views).
◼︎ 🐕 4. Dog Bite Incident. One topic that has emerged as a major social concern in China recently is the issue of dog safety and the increasing incidence of dogs biting humans. Although the topic is a recurring one on Chinese social media over the years, it has now again garnered considerable attention due to an incident in Chengdu’s Chongzhou, Sichuan Province, where a two-year-old girl was severely bitten by a dog on October 16. While the girl is being treated for her serious injuries at a local injuries, her family has crowdfunded 2 million yuan for her medical costs ($273.5k). As a result of this incident, other places in China, such as Hefei, have also increased their law enforcement efforts and punish dog owners who walk their dogs without a leash, either by capturing the dogs or imposing fines. (Various weibo hashtags, including “Police Notification Regarding Young Girl Bitten by Dog” #警方通报女童被狗咬伤#, 200 million views; #Family of the Girl Bitten by a Dog in Sichuan Has Raised 2 Million Yuan# #四川被狗咬伤女童家属已筹得200万元#, 170 million views).
◼︎ 🐣 5. Social Media Influencer Faking her Cheap Breakfast. A Chinese social media influencer named Zhang Tianqi (4+ million fans) triggered some online controversy this week for a video she did on doing a challenge by using only 100 yuan ($13.6) to have all kinds of breakfast at a traditional Dongbei Morning Market in Heilongjiang. However, people soon pointed out that the vlogger was misleading by making it seem that all the products she consumed were much cheaper than they actually are, and she was accused of hyping the market’s “low prices” for clout – which could be damaging to local stall owners and negatively impact local tourism. Zhang later admitted that she only got such low prices because she got a discount and got some items for free, and she soon deleted the video. But many commenters were not as forgiving, and suggested she should be banned for misleading the public. (Weibo hashtag “Apologies for 100 Yuan Breakfasts All over Dongbei Morning Market” #100元吃遍东北早市当事人道歉#, 96 million views).
◼︎ 🐺 6. “Celebrity Wolf”. A wolf in Kekexili, a natural reserve in Qinghai Province, bordering Tibet, has become known as a ‘celebrity wolf’ recently. The wolf was first known as an injured, lonely and skinny wolf who was separated from his pack. He rose to fame after he was fed by tourists who came across the wolf, lying by the side of the road, and felt bad for him. The wolf then seemingly discovered a new way of living and started begging other tourists for food, even wagging its tail when it sees cars arriving. The wolf is now looking well-fed and shiny as new, and his transformation has become a social media sensation. (Hashtag Kekexili Celebrity Wolf Fed by Tourists #可可西里网红狼被游客投喂# 5,3 million views; Kekexili Wild Wolf Famous after Being Fed #可可西里一头野狼被投喂成网红#, 4,8 million views).
◼︎ 🕊 7. Coco Lee’s Final Resting Place. On October 21, Chinese-American superstar Coco Lee, who passed away in July of this year, was buried in Wuhan, her ancestral hometown. A commemorative exhibition celebrating the life of the singer was held on the same day, drawing groups of devoted fans who came to bid their final farewell. Coco Lee started her career in Hong Kong in the 1990s but also achieved international recognition in the United States and beyond after recording her debut English-language album. Lee, who suffered from health issues and depression, took her own life at the age of 48. One trending topic that captured significant attention on Saturday revolved around the speech delivered by Lee’s mother, in which she openly denounced her former son-in-law for cheating on her daughter for “many years.” (Hashtags “Coco Lee Buried in Wuhan Today” #李玟今日将安葬于武汉#, 22 million views;
“Coco Lee’s mother strongly condemns Li Wen’s husband’s affair” #李玟母亲痛斥李玟丈夫出轨#, 260 million views).
◼︎ 🏃🏽♂️ 8. A Controversial Marathon Finish. The 33rd Dalian Marathon, held on October 15, gained widespread attention on Weibo due to a controversial incident involving Chinese marathon runner Yin Shunjin. During the race, Yin Shunjin appeared to be intentionally obstructed by a support vehicle, forcing him to navigate around it and costing him valuable time in the crucial final two minutes of the marathon. He ultimately finished in 7th place, with just seconds separating him from those who finished ahead of him. Many netizens expressed suspicions that this incident was a deliberate act, suggesting the possibility of marathon fraud. However, the event’s organizers and those responsible for the support vehicles have since maintained that it was an unfortunate mistake and not a deliberate act. This incident was not isolated, as several other marathons have also faced suspicious incidents and bizarre behavior. In response to these concerns, the Chinese Athletics Association has issued an emergency notice to standardize and regulate China’s national marathon and running events more effectively in order to prevent such incidents in the future. (Weibo hashtag “Dalian Marathon Responds to Yin Shunjin Being Obstructed by Car” #大连马拉松回应尹顺金被车挡#, 25 million views).
What’s Noteworthy
Taiwanese “Self-Developed” AI Claims It’s from Mainland China. | Earlier this month, Taiwan’s Academia Sinica (中央硏究院), the national academy, launched an AI chat model, the CKIP-Llama-2-7b chat AI, that had been promoted by several Taiwanese media outlets as a “new generation product independently developed by Taiwan.”
However, when users started asking the chatbot some particular questions, it gave unexpected answers. Upon asking which nationality it had, the bot stated it was from China and that Taiwan is part of China. Asked to name the national anthem, it replied “The March of the Volunteers” – China’s communist anthem.
In response to these issues, Academia Sinica in Taiwan stated that the model experienced “hallucinations” and took down the test version of the model. According to a report by RFA, party lawmaker Fan Yun commented on that the AI issue was “an information security issue and an issue of cognitive warfare.” Meanwhile on Chinese social media, the story caused some banter, and people humorously praised the AI model for staying true to its alleged Chinese roots.
What’s Popular
Bad at reading maps? Baidu’s got you covered | Baidu has been getting a lot of traction this week as it launched its “Prompt the World” flagship event at Beijing’s Shougang Park on October 17, where it unveiled multiple AI-native applications.
It was its first offline event since Covid-19, and a much-anticipated one since the tech giant announced its ambitious plan to reconstruct all of its products with AI-native thinking. Apart from announcing its new Ernie Bot 4 (文心大模型4.0), which allegedly is no longer inferior in performance compared to Open AI’s ChatGPT, and its renewed Baidu Wangpan (Baidu Cloud Drive) and other products, the announcement of its AI-native map powered by Ernie was especially well-received as “the world’s first artificial intelligence map” (#全球首个AI原生地图即将面世#, Weibo hashtag received 23+ million views).
The AI map comes with a personalized digital human image and is equipped with natural language interaction capability, offering flexible answers that claim to mimic “real human communication,” promising to enhance travel and decision-making efficiency. As the map learns as you go, it will also get to know you and predict where you’re going and which road to take. Even those who are bad at using other (digital) maps and navigation apps should be able to use it effectively. The application will be available on the market before the end of the year.
What’s Memorable
Shanghai’s Jewish history | In light of this week’s surge of anti-Semitic sentiments on Weibo, we’ve selected this pick from our archives which highlights a very different perspective on Chinese-Jewish relations and the shared Chinese-Jewish history. As modern buildings mushroom and old neighborhoods disappear, the traces of Jewish history are fading in today’s Shanghai. But the past decade a seen a series of initiatives, such as a Jews in Shanghai musical and the launch of a Shanghai Jewish diaspora website, to keep the memories of China’s Jewish heritage more alive than ever. This is a very short history of Jews in Shanghai and how their history is remembered in 21st century China.
Weibo Word of the Week
“Reverse Consumption” | Our Weibo Word of the Week is “反向消费” (fǎnxiàng xiāofèi), meaning ‘reverse consumption.’
As China’s biggest online shopping festival is coming up on 11.11 (Single’s Day), with pre-sales starting soon, the concept of Chinese young people engaging in ‘reverse spending’ or ‘reverse consumption’ – also known as ‘rational consumption,’ – became a hot topic on Weibo this week, with one related hashtag attracting over 380 million views (#年轻人开始反向消费了#).
‘Reverse consumption’ is a recent trend that is especially popular among Chinese young people, and that is all about pursuing sustainable and cost-effective products instead of focusing on consuming for the sake of buying brands or spending money. The trend does not necessarily suggest a focus on cheap products, but rather a refusal to celebrate consumerism and overpay for products that lack value for the price.
Some Weibo users view this trend as a reaction to the constant shopping festivals and the pressure on young people to keep buying more in the thriving Chinese e-commerce market, leading to increased luxury consumption. As consumer attitudes gradually begin to change, young people no longer simply believe that “expensive means good,” and are now being more rational in their shopping behavior that is more about ‘value for money.’
Chinese companies are responding to this trend. For instance, JD.com has themed this year’s online shopping festival around “Truly Affordable,” assuring customers of the best prices and a promise not to overcharge. Tmall is also adjusting to changing consumer sentiments and buying behavior by offering ways to save money on purchases and introducing a one-click price guarantee. This means that even if sellers fluctuate their prices during the festival, buyers will receive a refund for the price difference if they notice a drop in the price of an item they’ve already purchased.
This is an on-site version of the Weibo Watch newsletter by What’s on Weibo. Missed last week’s newsletter? Find it here. If you are already subscribed to What’s on Weibo but are not yet receiving this newsletter in your inbox, please contact us directly to let us know.
Stories that are authored by the What's on Weibo Team are the stories that multiple authors contributed to. Please check the names at the end of the articles to see who the authors are.

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Featured image created by Xiaohongshu user “小罗Design”, title:《🥟饺子里的温暖 —— 回家过年》/ “The Warmth of a Dumpling – Going home for the Chinese New Year”
PREMIUM NEWSLETTER | ISSUE #45
Overview:
▶ Dear Reader – Watching the CMG Gala
▶ What’s on Weibo Chapters – 15 Years of Weibo
▶ What’s Popular – The “China Chic Girl” & Sketchy Takeout Food
▶ What’s Noteworthy – China’s Artificial Sun
▶ What’s Memorable – “The Spring Festival Survival Toolkit”
▶ Weibo Word of the Week – Fake Foreigners
Dear Reader,
This week, trending topics in China were dominated by two themes: Trump and the Chinese New Year. Unsurprisingly, it’s clear which of the two is the most significant for most people: the Spring Festival and the journey home. The phrase “回家” (huí jiā), meaning “returning home,” has been flooding social media in recent days.
The Chinese New Year, or the Spring Festival, falls on January 29 this year, welcoming the Year of the Snake. Spring Festival is the most important time of the year for family reunions, and for some, it’s the only time of the year to be together. The travel home, whether by car, plane, or train, often comes with sentimentality and melancholy. Adult children who lead important and busy professional lives suddenly find themselves transformed into their parents’ “babies” again, getting stuffed with food and peppered with endless questions.

“Going home” visualized by Xiaohongshu users through AI and digital images.
Although it is a joyous occasion, the social aspect of the Chinese New Year is not welcomed by everyone. On apps like Xiaohongshu, netizens are publishing guides on how to survive the celebrations, and the term “Spring Festival Social Anxiety” (春节社交焦虑) pops up frequently. Younger people, in particular, who want to avoid questions about their personal lives—such as their work, marital status, or income—often feel stressed out by family reunions and the pressure of not meeting their family’s expectations. For years, netizens have been sharing the questions they dread the most.
Spring Festival Gala: The Ultimate Distractor
But there is one major ray of light during the long Chinese New Year’s Eve, it’s the show everybody loves to hate but still watches—the China Media Group (CMG) Spring Festival Gala. As the ultimate distractor, it captivates millions of households, providing a much-needed escape from awkward conversations and family pressures.
Better known as Chunwan (春晚), the Spring Festival Gala is one of the world’s most-watched live televised events. Lasting a total of four hours, roughly from 8pm to 1am Beijing time, it has been annually broadcasted since 1983 and has become an integral part of the Chinese New Year’s Eve. While many young people consider the show corny and old-fashioned, it has become deeply ingrained in China’s social media culture, where complaining about the show on Weibo has become its own New Year tradition.
Since 2016, I’ve annually live-blogged the entire show from start to finish. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to do so this year as I’ll be on the road, but here are some key pointers on what to pay attention to.
Mixing Official Propaganda with Entertainment
📺 First, you might ask: why should you watch the Gala at all? One reason is its sheer viewership and the chance to be part of a collective experience. Last year, over 420 million people reportedly watched the show, generating billions of mentions across social media platforms.
🇨🇳 An even better reason, though, is to see what the show is highlighting. As CMG is under the direct control of the Central Propaganda Department of the Chinese Communist Party, the Gala serves as an important moment for the Party to convey its official ideology, promote traditional culture, and showcase the nation’s top performers. While it’s also a commercial event, the Gala remains highly political, mixing official propaganda with entertainment.
Watching the entire show from start to finish be a bit much, but keeping an eye on the key highlights and noteworthy moments is definitely worth your time. It offers insights into important themes across culture, entertainment, politics, diplomacy, and even military affairs.
🪖 For example, last year’s Gala drew attention with the performance of the PLA song “Decisive Victory” (决胜). Delivered by artists from the PLA Cultural and Artistic Center, the performance featured soldiers in combat gear marching and dancing, with a backdrop of rockets, tanks, and war-like scenes. Taiwanese media framed the song as a reflection of mainland China’s military stance toward Taiwan, and some Weibo users interpreted it similarly. The performance gained further attention because it followed a duet of the song “Etiquette” (礼序) sung by performers from both Taiwan and mainland China, interpreted by some as a statement of “diplomacy comes before violence” (先礼后兵).
🏔️ This year’s Gala will not only feature performances from Beijing but also sub-venues in Wuhan, Lhasa, Wuxi, and Chongqing. For these cities, it’s a valuable opportunity to promote local culture and attract more tourists.
🤖 In recent years, the Gala has also become a platform to showcase China’s innovative digital technologies. In 2021, the show explicitly branded itself as a “tech innovation event” by incorporating 8K ultra-high-definition video, AI+VR studio technologies, and cloud-based performance coordination. This year, expect even more cutting-edge tech, including virtual production, 3D effects, and advanced AI, to bring Chinese cultural performances to life while underscoring China’s role as a global tech leader.
🧏♂️ Notably, this year’s Gala will feature audio-described and sign language versions for the first time, making it accessible to visually and hearing-impaired audiences. Sign language interpreters, using AR virtual technology, will appear in the Gala studio alongside the live broadcast. A split-screen feature will show both the live program and the interpreters, supported by AI-generated subtitles for hearing-impaired viewers. This marks a significant step toward a more inclusive approach by state media.
📕 One of this year’s key sponsors is Xiaohongshu (aka Rednote), an app that has recently dominated headlines as a surge of “TikTok refugees” migrated to its platform. Partnering with the Spring Festival Gala is a major traffic and visibility boost, making this one of Xiaohongshu’s most commercially successful years since its 2013 launch.
👩🏻 Also noteworthy: for the third time in a row, the Gala is directed by female director Yu Lei (于蕾), who also directed the 2024 and 2023 Gala. The 46-year-old Yu Lei previously also served as the general scriptwriter and overall designer for the Gala. The past year has really been a flourishing year for female directors in China, from cinema to TV, where female directing talent has been more visible and successful than ever before. This rise of female talent is also reflected in the Gala’s top creative team consists of 19 people: 11 of them are female.
📽 By now, the last rehearsal of the show has already been completed. The entire show is usually completely rehearsed a total of five times before Chinese New Year’s Eve. These rehearsals are recorded and almost nothing ever goes wrong during the live show – besides some bad lipsyncing here and there – since the recording is running at the same time so that producers can always switch to a pre-recorded act.
🔶️ On January 28, the show will also air via various channels, from CCTV to Bilibili, and also via Youtube here. The entire programme is usually released a day before.
Happy watching! Wishing you all joy, prosperity, plenty of dumplings, and good health in the Year of the Snake.
Best,
Manya
(@manyapan)
What’s on Weibo Chapters
Last week, I shared the first deep dive of What’s on Weibo Chapters with you. This month, our theme is 15 Years of Weibo. This week, Sinologist and China correspondent Casper Wichmann shares his insights on Weibo’s evolving role in shaping public opinion, its key moments, and whether it can remain a major platform for public discourse in China’s increasingly crowded digital landscape. At the University of Copenhagen, Wichmann previously researched Sina Weibo as a new public sphere on the Chinese internet.
With Weibo now 15 years old, we asked Wichmann about three things:
📌 Weibo’s evolving role in shaping public opinion: Has it become more or less effective, and has its social impact shifted? Which news stories highlight Weibo’s continued relevance or its changing influence?
📌 Changing government strategies on the Weibo platform: What pivotal moments stand out when Weibo emerged as a political tool?
📌 Weibo’s present & future in a crowded digital landscape: Can it still compete as a major platform for public discourse, or is it transitioning into a new role altogether?
Read this feature article to find out what Casper had to say about this:
What’s Popular
– by Ruixin Zhang
“What should we order for dinner?” is a daily dilemma for millions of Chinese consumers in one of the world’s largest food delivery markets. With numerous platforms, cuisines, menus, and discount options, choosing the right takeout—one that is tasty, affordable, and safe—can feel like a daunting task.
But these days, many Chinese people follow a simple rule to identify bad takeout: if your delivery comes in packaging featuring a playful young woman wearing sunglasses, a traditional Peking opera headdress, and holding a fan—often with the bold trendy character “潮” (cháo, meaning “trend”)—it’s likely to be an unhealthy meal with potential food safety risks.
As one netizen joked, “I was so excited for my takeout, only to see this lady on the package and feel my heart sink.” Why does this seemingly cheerful cartoon figure has come to evoke so much distrust and dislike?
This story starts in 2020, when digital illustrator @YUMI created the “China-chic Girl” image in response to a client’s request for a design that embodied the “China-chic” (国潮, guócháo) aesthetic.
China-chic, or guócháo—literally meaning “national tide”—refers to the rise of Chinese domestic (fashion) brands that often incorporate culturally Chinese elements into contemporary designs. This trend emerged as a reflection of growing nationalist sentiment in China, offering a Chinese counterpart to popular Japanese or Korean-inspired styles. From fashion and makeup to milk tea, ‘China-chic’ quickly became a defining element of China’s consumer culture (read more here).
However, when YUMI’s client failed to pay, she chose to release the design for free public use. YUMI’s creation—a blend of traditional Peking opera elements and modern sunglasses—struck a chord with its simple yet iconic charm. Its accessibility made it even more appealing, and the China-chic Girl soon became the go-to design for restaurants looking for affordable, visually striking takeout packaging.

On China’s wholesale website 1688, you can find a wide range of cheap takeout packaging with the “China-chic girl” on it.
The China-chic Girl was all the rage, until last fall.
Starting in September, some delivery drivers began exposing filthy kitchen conditions on social media, warning customers to avoid takeout from certain restaurants after witnessing food safety issues and kitchen hazards while waiting for orders.
Over time, people began noticing a pattern: the dirtiest kitchens were often small, non-chain establishments with no physical storefronts—just cramped spaces dedicated solely to takeout. Operating on tight budgets, these businesses often chose the inexpensive China-chic girl packaging to cut costs, unintentionally associating the China-chic girl with unsanitary and unsafe food practices.
As a result, netizens—especially young people who heavily rely on food delivery—started compiling guides to help each other avoid sketchy takeout options. The warning signs? Restaurants offering “cashback for good reviews” or those that lack a proper storefront, often listing only food items instead of a real restaurant name. These red flags point to private kitchens, poorly managed spaces, or even unregulated food safety practices. Additionally, many of these ‘China-chic takeouts’ thrive within the “group-buying” model on food delivery platforms.
The “group-buying” model, popularized by platforms like Temu and its Chinese counterpart Pinduoduo (拼多多), allows users to invite friends, family, or colleagues to purchase a product together at a discounted price.
This strategy has since evolved into a pseudo-group-buying model, where even without inviting others, the group-buying discount is still applied. These discounts are carefully calculated by platforms to ensure that, even at reduced prices, profits can still be made due to the high sales volume.
Both Meituan (美团) and Eleme (饿了么)—the two largest food delivery platforms in China—have adopted this approach by introducing budget-friendly services such as Pinhaofan (拼好饭) and Pintuan (拼团) to target lower-tier markets.
For example, a typical 30 RMB ($4.15) takeout might cost only half that price through these services, with additional platform coupons and new user discounts making it almost irresistibly affordable.
But, of course, there’s no such thing as a free lunch. As many users have discovered, getting a full meal for under 10 RMB ($1.40) often comes at the expense of quality. These Pinhaofan takeouts commonly feature pre-made dishes with indistinguishable ingredients, flimsy utensils that can’t even scoop rice, a box of suspicious juice full of artificial coloring, low-grade packaging, and, of course, that cheap, once-iconic China-chic design.
(Want to know more? There’s more to know on how “China chic girl” has gone from being a playful symbol of pride in domestic products to representing the problems of China’s fast and cheap takeout industry: read the rest of the article here.)
What’s Noteworthy
Since the week was filled with headlines about Trump’s inauguration, you might have missed another major event: the breakthrough of China’s “Artificial Sun,” a nuclear fusion reactor, which broke its own record and brought humanity closer to achieving near-limitless clean energy. Online, this milestone was celebrated as a sign of China’s growing technological and scientific leadership, with many envisioning a future of carbon-free energy led by China.
The record was set on January 20, when the Chinese Experimental Advanced Superconducting Tokamak (先进实验超导托卡马克实验装置), or EAST, operated stably for 1,066 seconds. EAST is a nuclear fusion reactor located at the Hefei Institute of Physical Science in Anhui province, designed to generate clean and sustainable nuclear energy.
EAST is often called the “Artificial Sun” because it mimics the process that powers stars—fusing hydrogen atoms to release vast amounts of energy in the form of heat. During this experiment, EAST generated temperatures exceeding 100 million degrees Celsius—around seven times hotter than the Sun’s core. This new record surpassed the previous one of 403 seconds, also set by EAST in 2023, by more than double.
This “triumph” sparked widespread excitement on platforms like Weibo. Hashtags such as “Artificial Sun Sets 1 Billion Degrees for 1,000 Seconds” (#人造太阳创1亿摄氏度1000秒纪录# ) and “China’s Artificial Sun Makes Major Breakthrough” (#中国的人造太阳有重大突破#) made it into the top trending lists. Notably, some netizens framed the achievement within the context of global technology competition, proudly highlighting China’s progress as surpassing that of the US and EU.
What’s Memorable
As the 2017 Chinese New Year approached, a humorous and unique song went viral on Chinese social media. It captured the pressure young people face when bombarded with nagging questions from family and relatives during the Spring Festival.
Composer Jin Chengzhi (金承志) and his choir, The Rainbow Chamber Singers (上海彩虹合唱团), won the hearts of Chinese netizens with their hit song “What I Do Is For Your Own Good” (春节自救指南, literally: The Spring Festival Survival Toolkit). A perfect pick for this week’s archive spotlight—check out the explanation and video via the link below.
Weibo Word of the Week
Fake Foreigners | Our Weibo phrase of the week is 仿冒外国用户账号, fǎngmào wàiguó yònghù zhànghào, meaning “fake foreign user accounts” or “user accounts that pretend to be foreigners.”
The phrase came up in a Weibo hashtag last week that attracted over 210 million views (#抖音已处理1万多仿冒外国用户账号#), about Douyin, the Chinese version of TikTok, having dealt with more than 10,000 fake foreign accounts in the wake of the “TikTok Refugee” trend.
In case you missed it (though you probably didn’t): With a TikTok ban looming in the US (briefly taking effect last Sunday before being delayed), millions of American TikTok users began migrating to other platforms this month. The most notable was the Chinese social media app Xiaohongshu (also known as Rednote), which saw a huge influx of so-called “TikTok refugees” (TikTok难民). Many were searching for what they believed to be a “Chinese version of TikTok” (read more about the story here). Seeing Xiaohongshu’s success, Douyin, the actual Chinese version of TikTok, also opened its registration process to international users.
What started as a protest against the TikTok ban and US policies turned into a surprising celebration of cultural exchange. Chinese and American netizens found a digital space to interact and connect—on the Chinese internet.
However, the hype also brought its downsides. Black market groups quickly jumped on the trend, looking to profit by gaining followers and click traffic. They created thousands of fake “foreign” accounts by reposting videos or even crafting AI-generated foreign personas.

Is the painting moving, or is this just another fake foreigner?
This phenomenon has fueled skepticism among Chinese internet users—already wary of online scams—about connecting with strangers online. One netizen joked, “Don’t buy anything from people and don’t make new friends, and you’ll never be scammed.”
Others commented: “Xiaohongshu and Douyin’s teams must be swamped these days. Meanwhile, Weibo is nice and quiet in comparison!”
This is an on-site version of the Weibo Watch newsletter by What’s on Weibo. Missed last week’s newsletter? Find it here. If you are already subscribed to What’s on Weibo but are not yet receiving this newsletter in your inbox, please contact us directly to let us know.
Newsletter
TikTok Refugees, Xiaohongshu, and the Letters from Li Hua

Published
3 weeks agoon
January 19, 2025
PREMIUM NEWSLETTER | ISSUE #43
Overview:
▶ Dear Reader – “Dear Li Hua”: Explaining the TikTok Xiaohongshu Honeymoon
▶ What’s on Weibo Chapters – 15 Years of Weibo
▶ What’s Popular – ‘Black Myth Wukong’ at Spring Festival
▶ What’s Memorable – Fleeing to Iceland
Dear Reader,
Imagine you are Li Hua (李华), a Chinese senior high school student. You have a foreign friend, far away, in America. His name is John, and he has asked you for some insight into Chinese Spring Festival, for an upcoming essay has to write for the school newspaper. You need to write a reply to John, in which you explain more about the history of China’s New Year festival and the traditions surrounding its celebrations.
This is the kind of writing assignment many Chinese students have once encountered during their English writing exams in school during the Gaokao (高考), China’s National College Entrance Exams. The figure of ‘Li Hua’ has popped up on and off during these exams since at least 1995, when Li invited foreign friend ‘Peter’ to a picnic at Renmin Park.
Over the years, Li Hua has become somewhat of a cultural icon. A few months ago, Shangguan News (上观新闻) humorously speculated about his age, estimating that, since one exam mentioned his birth year as 1977, he should now be 47 years old—still a high school student, still helping foreign friends, and still introducing them to life in China.
This week, however, Li Hua unexpectedly became a trending topic on social media—in a week that was already full of surprises.
With a TikTok ban looming in the US (delayed after briefly taking effect on Sunday), millions of American TikTok users began migrating to other platforms this month. The most notable one was the Chinese social media app Xiaohongshu (now also known as Rednote), which saw a massive influx of so-called “TikTok refugees” (Tiktok难民). The surge propelled Xiaohongshu to the #1 spot in app stores across the US and beyond.
This influx of some three million foreigners marked an unprecedented moment for a domestic Chinese app, and Xiaohongshu’s sudden international popularity has brought both challenges and beautiful moments. Beyond the geopolitical tension between the US and China, Chinese and American internet users spontaneously found common ground, creating unique connections and finding new friends.
While the TikTok/Xiaohongshu “honeymoon” may seem like just a humorous trend, it also reflects deeper, more complex themes.
✳️ National Security Threat or Anti-Chinese Witchhunt?
At its core, the “TikTok refugee” trend has sprung from geopolitical tensions, rivalry, and mutual distrust between the US and China.
TikTok is a wildly popular AI-powered short video app by Chinese company ByteDance, which also runs Douyin, the Chinese counterpart of the international TikTok app. TikTok has over 170 million users in the US alone.
A potential TikTok ban was first proposed in 2020, amid escalating US-China tensions. President Trump initiated the move, citing security and data concerns. In 2024, the debate resurfaced in global headlines when President Biden signed the “Protecting Americans from Foreign Adversary Controlled Applications Act,” giving ByteDance nine months to divest TikTok or face a US ban.
TikTok, however, has continuously insisted it is apolitical, does not accept political promotion, and has no political agenda. Its Singaporean CEO Shou Zi Chew maintains that ByteDance is a private business and “not an agent of China or any other country.”
🇺🇸 From Washington’s perspective, TikTok is viewed as a national and personal security threat. Officials fear the app could be used to spread propaganda or misinformation on behalf of the Chinese Communist Party.
🇨🇳 Beijing, meanwhile, criticizes the ban as an act of “bullying,” accusing the US of protectionism and attempting to undermine China’s most successful internet companies. They argue that the ban reflects America’s inability to compete with the success of Chinese digital products, labeling the scrutiny around TikTok as a “witch hunt.”

Political cartoon about the American “witchhunt” against TikTok, shared on Weibo in 2023, also published on Twitter by Lianhe Zaobao.
“This will eventually backfire on the US itself,” China’s Foreign Ministry spokesperson Wang Wenbin predicted in 2024.
Wang turned out to be quite right, in a way.
When it became clear in mid-January that the ban was likely to become a reality, American TikTok users grew increasingly frustrated and angry with their government. For many of these TikTok creators, the platform is not just a form of entertainment—it has become an essential part of their income. Some directly monetize their content through TikTok, while others use it to promote services or products, targeting audiences that other platforms like Facebook, Instagram, or X can no longer reach as effectively.
Initially, the mass migration of American users to Xiaohongshu was a symbolic protest against US policies. Users advocated for the right to choose their preferred social media, and voiced their frustration at how their favorite app had become a pawn in US-China geopolitical tensions. Rejecting the narrative that “data must be protected from the Chinese,” many pointed out that privacy concerns were equally valid for US-based platforms. As an act of playful political defiance, these users downloaded Xiaohongshu to demonstrate they didn’t fear the government’s warnings about Chinese data collection.
(If they had the option, by the way, they would have installed Douyin—the actual Chinese version of TikTok—but it is only available in Chinese app stores, whereas Xiaohongshu is accessible in international stores, so it was picked as ‘China’s version of TikTok.’)
Xiaohongshu is actually not the same as TikTok at all. Founded in 2013, Xiaohongshu (literal translation: Little Red Book) is a popular app with over 300 million users that combines lifestyle, travel, fashion, and cosmetics with e-commerce, user-generated content, and product reviews. Like TikTok, it offers personalized content recommendations and scrolling videos, but is otherwise different in types of engagement and being more text-based.
As a Chinese app primarily designed for a domestic audience, the sudden wave of foreign users caused significant disruption. Xiaohongshu must adhere to the guidelines of China’s Cyberspace Administration, which requires tight control over information flows. The unexpected influx of foreign users undoubtedly created challenges for the company, prompting a scramble to recruit English-speaking content moderators to manage the new streams of content. Foreigners addressing sensitive political issues soon found their accounts banned.
Of course, there is undeniable irony in Americans protesting government control by flocking to a Chinese app functioning within an internet system that is highly controlled by the government—a move that sparked quite some debate and criticism as well.
✳️ The Sino-American ‘Dear Li Hua’ Moment
While the initial hype around Xiaohongshu among TikTok users was political, the trend quickly shifted into a moment of cultural exchange. As American creators introduced themselves on the platform, Chinese users gave them a warm welcome, eager to practice their English and teach these foreign newcomers how to navigate the app.
Soon, discussions about language, culture, and societal differences between China and the US began to flourish. Before long, “TikTok refugees” and “Xiaohongshu natives” were collaborating on homework assignments, swapping recipes, and bonding through humor.
For instance, Chinese users jokingly asked the “TikTok refugees” to pay a “cat tax” for seeking refuge on their platform, which American users happily fulfilled by posting adorable cat photos. American users, in turn, joked about becoming best friends with their “Chinese spies,” playfully mocking their own government’s fears about Chinese data collection.
The newfound camaraderie sparked creativity, as users began generating humorous images celebrating the bond between American and Chinese netizens—like Ronald McDonald cooking with the Monkey King or the Terra Cotta Soldier embracing the Statue of Liberty. Later, some images even depicted the pair welcoming their first “baby.”
🇺🇸 At the same time, it became clear just how little Americans and Chinese truly know about each other. Many American users expressed surprise at the China they discovered through Xiaohongshu, which contrasted sharply with negative portrayals they’ve seen in the media. While some popular US narratives often paint Chinese citizens as “brainwashed” by their government, many TikTok users began to reflect on how their own perspectives had been shaped—or even “manipulated”—by their media and government.
🇨🇳 For Chinese users, the sudden interaction underscored their digital isolation. Over the past 15 years, China has developed its own tightly regulated digital ecosystem, with Western platforms like Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and YouTube inaccessible in the mainland. While this system offers political and economic advantages, it has left many young Chinese people culturally hungry for direct interaction with foreigners—especially after years of reduced exchange caused by the pandemic, trade tensions, and bilateral estrangement. (Today, only some 1,100 American students are reportedly studying in China.)
The enthusiasm and eagerness displayed by American and Chinese Xiaohongshu users this week actually underscores the vacuum in cultural exchange between the two nations.
As a result of the Xiaohongshu migration, language-learning platform Duolingo reported a 216% rise in new US users learning Mandarin—a clear sign of growing interest in bridging the US-China divide.
Mourning the lack of intercultural communication and celebrating this unexpected moment of connection, Xiaohongshu users began jokingly asking Americans if they had ever received their “Li Hua letters.”
What started as some lighthearted remarks evolved into something much bigger as Chinese users dug up their old Gaokao exam papers and shared the letters they had written to their imaginary foreign friends years ago. These letters, often carefully stored in drawers or organizers, were posted with captions like, “Why didn’t you reply?” suggesting that Chinese students had been trying to reach out for years.

Example letters on Xiaohongshu: ‘Li Hua’ writing to foreign friends.
The story of ‘Li Hua’ and the replies he never received struck a chord with American Tiktok users. One user, Debrah.71, commented:
“It was the opposite for us in the USA. When I was in grade school, we did the same thing—we had foreign pen pals. But they did respond to our letters.”
Then, something extraordinary happened: Americans started replying to Li Hua.
One user, Douglas, posted a heartfelt video of him writing a letter to Li Hua:
📝”Dear Li Hua, I’m sorry I didn’t get your letters. I understand you’ve been writing me for a long time, but now I’m here to reply. Hello, from your American friend. I hope you’re well. Life here is pretty normal—we go to work, hit the gym, eat dinner, watch TV. What about you? Please write back. I’m sorry I didn’t reply before, but I’m here now. Your friend, Douglas.”
Another user, Tess (@TessSaidThat), wrote:
📝”Dear Li Hua, I hope this letter finds you well. I’m so sorry my response is so late. My government never delivered your letters. Instead, they told me you didn’t want to be my friend. Now I know the truth, and I can’t wait to visit. Which city should I visit first? With love, Tess.”

Examples of Dear Li Hua letters.
Other replies echoed similar sentiments:
📝”Dear Li Hua, I’m sorry the world kept us apart.”
📝”Did you achieve your dreams? Are you still practicing English? We’re older now, but wherever we are, happiness is what matters most.”
These exchanges left hundreds of users—both Chinese and American, young and old, male and female—teary-eyed. In a way, it’s the emotional weight of the distance—represented by millions of unanswered letters—that resonated deeply with both “TikTok refugees” and “Xiaohongshu natives.”

Emotional responses to the Li Hua letters.
The letters seemed to symbolize the gap that has long separated Chinese and American people, and the replies highlighted the unusual circumstances that brought these two online communities together. This moment of genuine cultural exchange made many realize how anti-Chinese, anti-American sentiments have dominated narratives for years, fostering misunderstandings.

Xiaohongshu commenter.
On the Chinese side, many people expressed how emotional it was to see Li Hua’s letters finally receiving replies. Writing these letters had been a collective experience for generations of Chinese students, creating messages to imaginary foreign friends they never expected to meet.
Receiving a reply wasn’t just about connection; it was about being truly seen at a time when Chinese people often feel underrepresented or mischaracterized in global contexts. Some users even called the replies to the Li Hua letters a “historical moment.”
✳️ Unity in a Time of Digital Divide
Alongside its political and cultural dimensions, the TikTok/Xiaohongshu “honeymoon” also reveals much about China and its digital environment. The fact that TikTok, a product of a Chinese company, has had such a profound impact on the American online landscape—and that American users are now flocking to another Chinese app—showcases the strength of Chinese digital products and the growing “de-westernization” of social media.
Of course, in Chinese official media discourse, this aspect of the story has been positively highlighted. Chinese state media portrays the migration of US TikTok users to Xiaohongshu as a victory for China: not only does it emphasize China’s role as a digital superpower and supposed geopolitical “connector” amidst US-China tensions, but it also serves as a way of mocking US authorities for the “witch hunt” against TikTok, suggesting that their actions have ultimately backfired—a win-win for China.
The Chinese Communist Party’s Publicity Department even made a tongue-in-cheek remark about Xiaohongshu’s sudden popularity among foreign users. The Weibo account of the propaganda app Study Xi, Strong Country, dedicated to promote Party history and Xi Jinping’s work, playfully suggested that if Americans are using a Chinese social media app today, they might be studying Xi Jinping Thought tomorrow, writing: “We warmly invite all friends, foreign and Chinese, new and old, to download the ‘Big Red Book’ app so we can study and make progress together!”
Perhaps the most positive takeaway from the TikTok/Xiaohongshu trend—regardless of how many American users remain on the app now that the TikTok ban has been delayed—is that it demonstrates the power of digital platforms to create new, transnational communities. It’s unfortunate that censorship, a TikTok ban, and the fragmentation of global social media triggered this moment, but it has opened a rare opportunity to build bridges across countries and platforms.
The “Dear Li Hua” letters are not just personal exchanges; they are part of a larger movement where digital tools are reshaping how people form relationships and challenge preconceived notions of others outside geopolitical contexts. Most importantly, it has shown Chinese and American social media users how confined they’ve been to their own bubbles, isolated on their own islands. An AI-powered social media app in the digital era became the unexpected medium for them to share kind words, have a laugh, exchange letters, and see each other for what they truly are: just humans.
As millions of Americans flock back to TikTok today, things will not be the same as before. They now know they have a friend in China called Li Hua.
Best,
Manya
(@manyapan)
PS There is a lot more to say about this topic, and if you’d like to read more, I’d also recommend reading Wen Hao’s Newsletter: “American TikTok users and Beijing found their common villain—the United States.”
What’s on Weibo Chapters
Especially in these tumultuous TikTok and Xiaohongshu times, I’m excited to share the first long read of What’s on Weibo Chapters with you. This month, our theme is 15 Years of Weibo and this is a relevant read to understand the dynamics of Chinese social media.
“15 Years of Weibo: The Evolution of China’s Social Media Giant,” explores how Weibo became one of the most successful social media platforms in China’s internet history. It examines its strategies, struggles, and its role in shaping the country’s digital landscape—past, present, and future.
Here are some key questions the article addresses:
➡️What was China’s social media landscape like in the pre-Weibo era?
➡️Why did Sina Weibo succeed while other platforms failed?
➡️How has Weibo shaped public opinion and discourse in China?
➡️What is Weibo’s current role in China’s social media ecosystem?
➡️What are the prospects for Weibo’s future?
If you’re curious about any of these questions, this article has you covered. From its beginnings as ‘Chinese Twitter’ to its evolution into a digital dinosaur, the story of Weibo offers a window into China’s broader social media landscape.
What’s Popular
Is Chinese game sensation ‘Black Myth Wukong’ making a jump from gaming screens to the CMG Spring Festival Gala?
The countdown to the most-watched show of the year has begun. On January 29, the Year of the Snake will be celebrated across China, and as always, the CMG Spring Festival Gala, broadcast on CCTV1, will air on the night leading up to midnight on January 28.
Rehearsals for the show began last week, sparking rumors and discussions about the must-watch performances this year. Soon, the hashtag “Black Myth: Wukong – From New Year’s Gala to Spring Festival Gala” (#黑神话悟空从跨晚到春晚#) went viral on Weibo, following rumors that the Gala will feature a performance based on the hugely popular game Black Myth: Wukong.
Three weeks ago, a 16-minute-long Black Myth: Wukong performance already was a major highlight of Bilibili’s 2024 New Year’s Gala (B站跨年晚会). The show featured stunning visuals from the game, anime-inspired elements, special effects, spectacular stage design, and live song-and-dance performances. It was such a hit that many viewers said it brought them to tears. You can watch that show on YouTube here.
While it’s unlikely that the entire 16-minute performance will be included in the Spring Festival Gala (it’s a long 4-hour show but maintains a very fast pace), it seems highly possible that a highlight segment of the performance could make its way to the show.
Recently, Black Myth: Wukong was crowned 2024’s Game of the Year at the Steam Awards. The game is nothing short of a sensation. Officially released on August 20, 2024, it topped the international gaming platform Steam’s “Most Played” list within hours of its launch. Developed by Game Science, a studio founded by former Tencent employees, Black Myth: Wukong draws inspiration from the classic Chinese novel Journey to the West. This legendary tale of heroes and demons follows the supernatural monkey Sun Wukong as he accompanies the Tang Dynasty monk Xuanzang on a pilgrimage to India to retrieve Buddhist scriptures. The game, however, focuses on Sun Wukong’s story after this iconic journey.
The success of Black Myth: Wukong cannot be overstated—I’ve also not seen a Chinese video game be this hugely popular on social media over the past decade. Beyond being a blockbuster game it is now widely regarded as an impactful Chinese pop cultural export that showcases Chinese culture, history, and traditions. Its massive success has made anything associated with it go viral—for example, a merchandise collaboration with Luckin Coffee sold out instantly.
If Black Myth: Wukong does indeed become part of the Spring Festival Gala, it will likely be one of the most talked-about and celebrated segments of the show. If it does not come on, which we would be a shame, we can still see a Black Myth performance at the pre-recorded Fujian Spring Festival Gala, which will air on January 29.
Lastly, if you’re not into video games and not that interested in watching the show, I still highly recommend that you check out the game’s music. You can find it on Spotify (link to album). It will also give you a sense of the unique beauty of Black Myth: Wukong that you might appreciate—I certainly do.
What’s Memorable
Social media can bring out the worst in people, but sometimes it also brings out the best. We saw this over the past week in the special moments shared between American ‘TikTok refugees’ and Chinese Xiaohongshu users. As they exchanged jokes online, it reminded me of a short but memorable trend that erupted on Weibo during the Covid era.
After the Embassy of Iceland posted about its bustling ‘post-pandemic’ travel season—suggesting that the Covid-19 “gloom is over”—jealousy spread among Chinese netizens. Seeing images of people having picnics and celebrating life in beautiful Iceland, many on Weibo suddenly began posing as natives of Iceland, claiming to feel homesick and longing to return to their “homeland.”
Others jokingly referred to themselves as Covid “refugees,” humorously trying to gain access to Iceland. One popular comment read: “I was abducted from Iceland at the age of three and taken to Henan.”
While the Embassy’s post served as a stark reminder of the contrast between China and other countries in handling Covid, it also provided a much-needed opportunity for online banter and sarcasm—momentarily making Chinese netizens feel a little closer to Iceland.
This is an on-site version of the Weibo Watch newsletter by What’s on Weibo. Missed last week’s newsletter? Find it here. If you are already subscribed to What’s on Weibo but are not yet receiving this newsletter in your inbox, please contact us directly to let us know.
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