5 Chinese Athletes to Watch at the Paris 2024 Olympics

Over the last few decades, China and its Olympic athletes have generated more and more attention globally. The country currently holds a total of 637 medals from the games, a number that’s bound to increase at Paris 2024. Here’s a look at some of the faces that could bring home the glory, with a special focus on the urban sports debuting this summer.

Liu Qingyi: Breaking

Liu Qingyi 671

Photo by Little Shao, via Red Bull Content Pool.


Liu Qingyi, aka B-Girl 671, took silver at the 2022 WDSF World Breaking Championships, so eyes are on her for a possible win for China in Paris. The 18-year-old Henan native will lead the country’s team of 8 breakdancers — 4 men and 4 women — to compete in the sports’ Olympic debut in Paris this year.


671 qualified by winning the 2022 Hangzhou Asian Games women’s breaking event. As the first Chinese dancer to win Outbreak, the world’s top breaking competition, Qingyi has had her eye on the Olympics for a while. According to breakdancing writer Jason Pu, “671 is known best for her aggressive stage persona, almost to the point of playing the heel, as well as high-difficulty combinations that she executes with consistency.” As she told Red Bull, her unique style is crucial to her identity: “When I compete, I want people to know my style and who I am as B-Girl 671.”


If her previous performances have anything to say about it, she might be looking to stand on the podium in Paris.


Follow 671 on Instagram @bgirl671liuqingyi.

Zeng Wenhui: Skateboarding

Zeng Wenhui

Image via News Guangdong.


Not only has China solidified its status as a skateboarding paradise in recent years, the sport has also been on the rise among young people in the country. It’s no surprise then that China’s skaters are attracting attention in the run-up to the 2024 Paris Olympics.


This year, Zeng Wenhui will be back in Olympic park for the street style competition. Zeng started her athletic journey early, coming to skateboarding from martial arts in 2012. She then made China’s national skateboarding team in 2017. The two-time national champion came in 6th at Tokyo, and is bound for great things this year.


She’ll be joined by Chinese skateboarding prodigy Cui Chenxi. The 14-year-old skater became China’s youngest Asian Games medalist when she won gold at the Hangzhou Asian Games’ street event. Also on the squad are Zhu Yuanling and 11-year-old Zheng Haohao, the youngest member of the team, who has only been riding for 4 years.


Follow Wenhui on Instagram @zengwenhui_zoe

Yang Siqi: Surfing

Yang Siqi

Image via Surfer Today.


Yang Siqi, the first Chinese surfing Olympian in history, will be competing in the women’s shortboard event at the 2024 Paris games. Interestingly, this and all other surfing events will actually be held in Tahiti.


At just 14, Yang’s rise has been a rapid one. She only started surfing in 2018, and just 6 years later, she qualified for an Olympic spot thanks to her performance at this year’s ISA World Surfing Games in Puerto Rico.


While an Olympic medal might not yet be in the cards for Yang, she’s still bound to make waves this summer, and forge a path ahead in the sport for Chinese athletes in the future with her bright and promising career.


Quoted in an article on the official Olympics website, Chinese surfing head coach Wang Xiaofei noted, “Our athletes are very young, around 13-14 years old. We still have six years to go until LA28, I believe that our athletes could improve a lot in terms of technique. Our goal for LA 2028 will be ranking into the top 8 of the Olympic Games.”


Follow Yang Siqi on Instagram @siqi_yang24.

Luo Zhilu: Sport Climbing

Luo Zhilu

Image via International Federation of Sport Climbing.


The global surge in the popularity of sport climbing in recent years hasn’t passed by China. While climbing has become a hobby for many in the country, the 6 Chinese climbers — 3 women and 3 men — participating in the Olympics take things to a whole other level. They’ll compete in all four of the sport’s events in Paris: men’s speed, women’s speed, men’s combined boulder & lead, and women’s combined boulder & lead.


Luo Zhilu won China’s National Climbing Championships in 2019 when she was just 13. Since then, she’s gone on to collect medals in a spate of national and international competitions. She began practicing with the Chinese men’s team in February of 2022, because she was at the top of the women’s team and wasn’t seeing satisfactory results from her training. In Paris she’ll be looking to make her mark in the combined boulder & lead category. “Training with the men’s team ups the pressure and difficulty,” explains head coach of China’s climbing team Cao Rongwu.


As an up-and-coming star climber, Luo Zhilu is already getting attention from hip Chinese brands like Neiwai, a local women’s underwear brand that centers body positivity and comfort.


Follow Luo Zhilu on Instagram @luozhilu_lucy.

Zhang Yufei: Swimming

Zhang Yufei Swimming World

Image via Swimming World.


For those who follow the sport, China’s champion swimmer Zhang Yufei needs no introduction. The 26-year-old women’s swimming star took altogether 3 medals at the Tokyo 2020 Olympics (actually held in 2021, thanks again Covid): a silver in the Women’s 100 m butterfly, and two golds for the Women’s 200 m butterfly and Women’s 4 x 200 m freestyle relay, breaking Olympic and world records. Overall, Zhang is a decorated swimmer in her specialty styles, having won multiple medals in international and Chinese meets.


Even after achieving Olympic champion status, Zhang still experiences self doubt, telling Xinhua she’s afraid that even though she’s at the top of her game, she still might bring back bronze medals.


China’s swimmers have been in the spotlight recently due to reporting on an alleged doping scandal prior to the Tokyo Games. Zhang Yufei’s name was mentioned, but no further actions have been taken.


Banner image by Haedi Yue.

Star Hurdler Wu Yanni, Known for Her Makeup and Tattoo, Silences Haters with a Major Win

Both on and off the track, Wu Yanni is hard to miss. At the National Track and Field Championships hosted in Rizhao, Shandong, last Sunday, the track star blazed through the 100-meters hurdles in 12.74 seconds. She took home the gold, put down the best time in all of Asia this year, and broke her own personal best.


The 26-year-old athlete’s win quickly became a viral talking point online, with many netizens congratulating her and exclaiming in support that “ability proves everything” (实力证明一切, shílì zhèngmíng yíqìe). But what exactly does Wu have to prove?


Wu has attracted much attention and criticism after launching herself into the public eye at the World University Games last year. With a carefully made-up face, Wu walked onto the track with a confident stride, and approached the starting line with her signature pre-race move: swaggering, then pointing up towards the sky. Netizens were divided over Wu’s style and bold demeanor (she also has a tattoo on her right arm), some championing her for her beauty while others criticized her lack of seriousness.


wu yanni move

Wu Yanni performs her signature move. Animation via Shiyi.


The online attention took a more negative turn last October during the Hangzhou Asian Games, when Wu false started during the 100-meters hurdles. Although the referee reinstated Wu to complete the event, her second place finish was ultimately declared void. Wu contested the referee’s judgement and paraded around the track with a Chinese flag draped over herself, despite the loss.


Criticism over the fiasco flooded the internet, with many calling Wu “performative,” “flamboyant” and saying she was lacking in sportsmanship. Many others claimed that athletes should “stay in their lanes” rather than looking for online virality and attracting conspicuous attention. Still others came out in support of Wu arguing that her confidence was a display of patriotism.


Wu’s win on Sunday seemed to quell much of the criticism. For one, she now has a high profile win under her belt, which for many, is proof enough of her hard work as a track athlete. One online user said: “I used to be a hater, now I’m impressed.”


After winning the event, Wu answered questions from the press and even covered one eye as her fake lashes had fallen off. “I want to show the prettiest, coolest, boldest, and most confident Wu Yanni,” she said. With Wu having already booked a spot in the Paris Olympics, more of the world may soon have a chance to see her at her best.


Banner image via Qi Lu Yi Dian.

For Some Chinese Indie Rockers, 1960s Psychedelia is the Future

The cost of living is crushing. Workloads are overwhelming — that is if you’re fortunate enough to have a job. Then there’s the beyond-measure family pressures. As all this and more leave Chinese youth feeling cornered by conformity, it’s little wonder that two of the country’s best emerging bands have found an escape — and inspiration — in a foreign counterculture of yore.


Both Beijing’s Backspace (who are on revered label Maybe Mars) and Wuhan’s Sweet Sister Session (signed to major alternative imprint Modern Sky) have drawn upon a notable genre for their latest albums: American psychedelia. This notoriously trippy 1960s sound is very different indeed from the post rock and hip hop influences that dominate much of the Chinese underground music scene.


Sweet Sister Session released Filthy Floating Fantasies in January. The album opens with “Raininess,” and right away frontman Fan Dengyan’s reverberating vintage keyboard notes and foreboding singing evoke Jim Morrison trying to light a fire under all that’s conventional. Much of that sound was achieved with a 1960s transistor organ mixed with analog oscillators, relics that Fan had to seek out beyond China (more on that later). Backspace, meanwhile, also use electric organs and effects pedals to create a lava lamp-like immersiveness on their album Outside Change (released on April 30 and followed by a national tour). But both bands’ attraction to this bygone genre runs deeper than its sounds.



Fan tells RADII that even without experiencing “the turmoil of the 60s, I was still attracted to the aesthetics and psychedelic sounds of that era.” And when it comes to then and now, “I think maybe there are similarities to some extent, because the general environment is getting worse, people’s internal friction is increasing, panic is growing, maybe everyone is looking for an exit.”


Aside from sharing this sentiment, Backspace have depicted it powerfully in their latest music video. Their vid for Outside of Change lead single “Narcissus’s Death” stars a Beijing office worker leaving a surreal boardroom meeting to partake in a pressure-relieving scavenger hunt.


Backspace bassist Gua Gua calls the video “a little bit exaggerated, but in fact, many people would resonate with the core expression. Because of the pressure of life, we have to be submissive in front of our bosses; because of the pressure of family, we have to obey our parents; because of the pressure of reproduction, we are forced to marry someone we don’t know very well… There are too many such things, which are the common experiences of our generation of urban young people.”


He was reminded of that fact at one stop on Backspace’s tour of 10 major Chinese cities in support of Outside of Change. “I accidentally saw a boy in the front row who [really] engaged [with] this song. When he sang the lyrics ‘dead, dead,’ his expression was very painful… So based on the background of the [psychedelic] era, it can resonate with young people, and I think it is attractive.”


Of course, the comparisons aren’t cut and dry. On a personal level, Backspace’s members still need to participate in the daily rat race, but in some ways have things pretty good for themselves. Drummer Mao Te in fact points out his day job office was the setting for a key scene in the “Narcissus’s Death” video, and that company was surprisingly “supportive of my band, and lent me the office for the music video’s shoot. I also used the general manager’s office. I had a good chat with him before the shoot, but he passed away due to illness after the MV was finished… We’re grateful for his support. His name was Frank.”


Backspace Band Photo

Backspace. Photo by yeee, courtesy Maybe Mars.


And when it comes to psychedelic core tenants like defying convention and tripping out, Mao succinctly points out: “After all, drugs are illegal in China.”


So fans from the West might indeed wonder about the appeal of psychedelia for millennial Chinese rockers, who weren’t raised on classic rock hand-me-downs and, unlike in more lenient locales, didn’t get the chance to trip, regardless of the legality. Indeed, Mao Te admits: “Our music is not mainstream. Young people who seek to vent may prefer more direct and immediate music at nightclubs.”


And yet, Backspace’s Zheng Dong — guitarist, vocalist, and player of the electric organ that cements their retro sound — quickly cites notoriously inebriated hippies and psychedelic mainstays The Grateful Dead as a key influence on his band. He adds: “Psychedelic music is one of the products of the hippie movement. It truly reflects the utopian life state of young people, mainly in the United States, who pursued maximum freedom at that time. Yes, young people in China are indeed suffering from pressure from all sides nowadays, but […] compared with the 60s and 70s, the culture of our era is still much milder. Maybe psychedelic is just a layer of our music that wraps what we want to say, more like a young man wearing a grandfather’s clothes.”


Regardless, the free spiritedness of the 60s, along with the sheer boundary-breaking sonics of that era, appeal to Backspace, Sweet Sister Session, and many of their fans.


Sweet Sister Session. Image courtesy Modern Sky.

Sweet Sister Session. Image courtesy Modern Sky.


Committing to the sound can offer a way out of the information overload of contemporary China — and digital music-making. But finding the right gear to do so isn’t always easy: Fan Dengyan exemplified modern nerd culture when he hit a wall searching in China for the vintage synths he hoped Sweet Sister Session could use to recapture a 60s sound on their debut album (despite Taobao’s reputation for having everything). So he branched out and asked friends in Japan to help him bid on Yahoo for well-maintained vintage synths.


When his prized hardware finally arrived in China it did not disappoint, and not only because it was well maintained and sounded like the songs of yesteryear. As Fan from Sweet Sister Session points out: “Iconic instruments of the 60s, such as the electric pipe organ, are fascinating in design. It has a pure analog circuit, so the sound feels more real and warm. I can sit there and play for half a day, not thinking about anything else, just completely immersed in it.”


That runs deeply contrary to the supposed benefits of modern music tech, says Fan. “Modern synthesizers and music equipment will provide people with more choices and modulation space, but this is precisely the issue — too many timbres, too many settings, too many choices. I cannot enter a deep state,” he says, quickly capturing the conundrum many young Chinese face from the bombardment of modern tech, on top of the pressures mentioned above. He goes on to say, as if breaking on through to the proverbial other side: “The psychedelic music of the 60s is wild, imaginative, sinister, meditative, and infinitely extended. This kind of music allows me to enter a deeper state of thinking and feeling in the present.”


Banner image by Haedi Yue.

Chinese Netizens Are Less Than Impressed With the Apple Vision Pro

On June 28th, the Apple Vision Pro finally arrived in China, almost five months after its release in the US. However, the much anticipated Apple product has not received many positive reviews from Chinese consumers. On the same day the Vision Pro was released, a video titled “A 30,000 RMB Dream? My Experience with Apple Vision Pro China” (30000元的美梦?国行Vision Pro评测) went viral on Bilibili. Over the next 5 days, it attracted 1.3 million views and received more than 4000 comments.


The video, which provided a close analysis of the Vision Pro’s functions, sparked discussion in the comment section. Viewers overwhelmingly expressed a lack of faith in the product.


The biggest problem lies in the pricing. While acknowledging its many benefits, the majority of commenters still found the retail price of 30,000 RMB (4125 USD) — roughly about 18% more expensive than the Vision Pro’s price in the US — to be too high. Bilibili user Aoxiaoruochen commented, “I might consider buying the product to watch Bilibili or comics at home if it cost around 10,000 RMB, but 30,000 RMB is just too expensive.”


Bilibili comment

Aoxiaoruochen’s comment on Bilibili.


Others joked that they would just wait for Xiaomi, one of Apple’s main competitors in China, to come up with a similar product at half the price in the near future (a not unimaginable course of events).


Netizens were also concerned with the product’s practicality. Unlike phones and laptops which have become an essential part of people’s lives, many see the Vision Pro as an unnecessary accessory. Bilibili user Kongrenshitian stated that “right now the Vision Pro is nothing but a toy for the rich. People don’t have the need for it.” Recent news that Apple has reportedly suspended development of the next generation of Vision headsets has also raised concerns over the future of the product line.


People were also dissatisfied with some of the Vision Pro’s design details. For instance, some pointed out that despite Apple’s attempts to create a visually appealing headset, it still looks awkward to wear it in public or at work. Tech fans were also disappointed that despite being released in a version specifically designed for the Chinese market, the Vision Pro cannot be used to scan QR codes for payment — an inescapable part of daily life in China.


VR technology has been on the rise in China for almost a decade. While there was great excitement in anticipation of the Vision Pro’s release, it remains to be seen whether muted reactions are a minor hiccup or a sign of changing trends.


Banner image via Huxiu.

City or Not City? The Question on the Lips of the Chinese Internet

A multilingual, Chinese-English phrase has recently gone viral in China. It turns out life can be divided into two categories: “city” and “not city.” Hence the question, “city 不 city啊?” (city city a, city or not city) Drinking ice coffee or lemon tea? City! Rowing a boat in the forest? Not city. Here, “city” has gradually become a synonym for yángqì (洋气, stylish or fashionable with a Western flavor), symbolizing a trendy urban lifestyle.

The origin of “city or not city” can be traced back to Shanghai-based American content creator Paul Mike Ashton, who posts under the username 保保熊 (Bao Bao Xiong). An entertainer and tour guide, Bao Bao Xiong frequently posts videos in Chinese, sharing his daily life in Shanghai. His family, who visited him in China at the end of May, have also popped up in his videos, where he repeatedly asks them if their experiences are city or not. These simple Chinese conversations, combined with their humorous tone and expressions, have made his videos go viral on platforms like Douyin and Xiaohongshu.


Chinese netizens have enjoyed seeing a foreigner celebrate the fun of life in China while gently poking fun at trend-obsessed urbanites. Travel and tourism bureaus of cities across the country have started to use “city or not city” in promotional materials, while celebrities including Lang Lang, Zhou Yutong, and Yang Yang have used this phrase in their social media posts, further boosting its popularity. Bao Bao Xiong’s fans have commented that it is the loving atmosphere created by his family that makes his videos so appealing and relaxing.


While videos of foreigners speaking Chinese and exploring local culture are often well received on Chinese social networks, the “city or not city” meme stands out for transcending its original context. Bao Bao Xiong’s playful yet sincere approach to exploring Chinese culture has made him a beloved figure online, highlighting the universal appeal of genuine, heartfelt content.


Banner image via Bao Bao Xiong.

At New York’s LATITUDE Gallery, Artist Shuang Cai Has Found Her Community

Some say it takes a village to raise a child. For artist Shuang Cai, New York City is her village. It’s where the East meets the West, and where she has brought her unique perspective as a Chinese woman to connect with Western art and ideology. Working as an artist and curator with roots in computer science, Cai likes to call herself a creative coder, because her work transcends coding and programming to embody art and its connection to humanity.


Working as the Curatorial Director at LATITUDE Gallery, a leading contemporary art space for emerging artists from the Asian diaspora, Cai always draws inspiration from the people around her, who do not necessarily identify as artists. They can be software programmers like her, graphic designers, non-profit organization staff, and even university professors.


“Galleries like LATITUDE, All Street NYC, bring me to these people who are still passionate about the practice of art,” Cai says. “These places also reflect my multi-layered identity when I practice art.”


SPAMTember All Street Gallery

SPAMtember at All Street Gallery. Image courtesy Shuang Cai.


One day, in her typical cube-like New York City studio, Cai was cooking dinner with SPAM, a canned mixture of processed pork and ham that was introduced to Asia by American soldiers stationed in the region during World War II. Since then, SPAM has become a staple food in parts of Asia and Oceania, as well as for diaspora communities in the U.S. Cai realized that her life was somehow reminiscent of the canned meat product and its journey: a blend of her Chinese heritage and her experiences living in the U.S.


Reflecting on this, Cai noted, “After the war, the damage remained [in Asia], but people made beautiful recipes out of it.” Inspired, in 2023 she curated a SPAM-themed art hackathon: SPAMtember at All Street Gallery. This art challenge brought together 18 other artists to spend a week producing something extraordinary, culminating in a 24-hour exhibition celebrating the cultural significance of SPAM.


The foundation of Cai’s creative journey can be traced back to her time at LATITUDE. As an undergraduate and a curatorial assistant in 2020, she immersed herself in data manipulation, point clouds, and virtual world building. This environment offered by the gallery, which was founded by artist Shihui Zhou in 2020, provided Cai with a space to experiment with different media and materials, allowing her to push her artistic boundaries and gain invaluable experience.


These days at LATITUDE, Cai takes on a variety of roles. She scouts for emerging talent, writes about artists, even collaborates with them to create pieces for the gallery, enjoying getting to know them along the way. One such artist is Jessica Wee, a Korean-American painter who grew up in Europe.


Cai and Wee hit it off immediately. “I met Jessica Wee when I worked with LATITUDE Gallery to curate a group exhibition called ‘Three-legged Crow’ in mid-2022, and I included two of her works.” Cai recalls that the two selected works were Wee’s experiments painting 3D sketches from the modeling software Blender onto Korean mulberry paper. After that, Cai curated Jessica’s first solo exhibition, “Plusieurs Rêves.”


Jessica Wee Installation View

Installation view of Jessica Wee’s “Plusieurs Rêves” at LATITUDE Gallery. Image courtesy LATITUDE Gallery.


As Cai delves deeper into physical and technological art forms such as digital fabrication and electronic works, LATITUDE remains her go-to place to connect and elevate other talents, especially fellow Chinese artists.


Recently, Cai collaborated with multidisciplinary graphic designer Ruichao Jiang to curate an exhibition exploring the future of gender roles and reproductive technologies. In the show, they transformed :iidrr gallery into a medical clinic, placing viewers at the center of a social issue: the redefinition of human reproduction through the concept of male pregnancy.


Cai describes her love of art as “almost like an obsession with the connections between technology and human boundaries.” In addition to studying studio art at Bard College as an undergraduate, Cai also chose to major in computer science. Her journey wasn’t easy; she jokes about once scoring a 30 on a math test where the average was 70-80. But that didn’t stop her. Cai says, “I always wanted to be a scientist, and I’m still trying.”


Though Cai doesn’t work in a traditional tech company or a nine-to-five office job, she strives to engage viewers through multi-layered art installations that bring visibility to underrepresented groups.

This dedication was evident in her graduate school thesis exhibition at New York University, where she headed after Bard. For the exhibition, Cai created the Ultimate Vending Machine, “where the product is the process of vending itself.” Proudly presenting it to her teachers, friends, and parents, she explained, “We show you how each item in the machine represents the labor and effort that went into its creation.”


Inside the vending machine were items like a flip-book on creating and assembling a flip-book; a digital GIF player looping the last step of instructions on assembling the digital screen player; a rubber stamp with purchase instructions for the Ultimate Vending Machine; an SD card with all the customizable production files, and a catalog book of all the products.


This may sound like a somewhat unexpected collection of objects, but in Cai’s interpretation, they all represent the invisible labor that is behind a product, a meal, or a service to society, yet lacks its own representation. In this single piece, she blended her cultural heritage with her artistic and technological pursuits.


“I see the Ultimate Vending Machine as a way to spotlight the often-overlooked labor behind everyday transactions.” Cai explains. She reflects that throughout the process, she built connections with a whole community, relying on their support and then revealing those contributions within the artwork. “It is a testament to the collective effort and help I received, honoring the collaborative spirit behind its creation.”


Banner image shows installation view of “Three-legged Crow,” curated by Shuang Cai at LATITUDE Gallery. Image via LATITUDE Gallery WeChat.