Recycled Chinese Soap Operas are Gaining New Life in America

Chinese readers might remember those hyper-dramatic web novels crammed with CEO seductions, vengeful heirs, and secret aristocrats that used to dominate bestseller charts. The genre may have gone flat in China, but now American viewers just can’t quit bingeing similar rapid-fire dramas on an app called ReelShort.


Titles like My Billionaire Husband’s Double Life and Son-in-Law’s Revenge certainly sound foreign. Yet it’s no coincidence they resemble China’s bygone online fiction craze.


The propulsive appeal behind ReelShort’s hottest rapid-fire dramas? Mostly recycled Chinese content, given California makeovers by a local subsidiary of Beijing-based media company COL Group before maximum drama extraction for American tastes.


ReelShort show selection

A selection of ReelShort’s offerings.


Yes, the same eye-roll inducing online novel tropes once so popular in China now arrive on Western screens with slight cultural translation tweaks. Pompous CEOs ensnaring innocent beauties, scheming heirs earning their richly-deserved comeuppance — every wish fulfillment box gets checked.


Somehow timeworn premises feel fresh when language setting changes. Through this adapted formatting alchemy, Chinese guilty pleasures are transformed into addictive new hits abroad.


The streaming model also drives bingeing. After sampling a few free episodes ending in cliffhangers, subsequent installments cost around 50 cents USD behind the paywall. Consuming one full series thus requires a $20-50 splurge — low enough to feed most compulsive viewing habits.


Yet ReelShort’s rapid growth defies assumptions about Chinese vs. Western tastes.


When ReelShort briefly seized the #1 US iOS entertainment app spot from almighty TikTok over the November 11th weekend, headlines portrayed it as an isolated underdog victory. But the milestone actually reflected this plucky Chinese story factory’s steady ascent up American charts.


Challenging assumptions about cultural translation barriers, ReelShort repurposes China’s well-worn melodramatic tropes for renewed addictive glory abroad. And it isn’t parent company COL Group’s first smash crossover — their earlier English story apps like interactive adventure game Chapters and romance portal Kiss both ranked highly as well.


Of course, Shein and Temu have also demonstrated Chinese digital goods can thrive overseas if priced alluringly. But ReelShort specifically extracts profits from recycled niche content, without Westernizing its production methods.


ReelShort comments

Comments from ReelShort viewers.


ReelShort’s rapid rise pushes back against the expectation that Chinese entertainment can’t translate, or that Western audiences would reject its outdated gender tropes. The app proves cultural barriers crumble when satisfying primal cravings for drama, wish-fulfillment, and cliffhanger resolution.


As digital platforms turn global, future media victors may be those best at unlocking those embedded human hooks across superficial cultural differences. Through that lens, China’s soapy reboot fever finding American fans reveals vast untapped potential for viral entertainment cross-pollination once we move past surface-level distinctions.


Banner image by Haedi Yue, other images via ReelShort.

Villagers Paint Over Ancient Buddha Statues

Villagers in Southwest China’s Sichuan province inadvertently damaged a set of 1,400-year-old Buddha statues by painting them in bright colors as a way to “redeem a wish to the god.”


These statues, varying in size, were crafted during the Northern Wei Period (386-534) and are located on a secluded mountain in Nanjiang County, in the northeast of the province. This site lies along the Micang Ancient Road, a historic transportation route dating back 3,000 years, as reported by Sichuan Daily. Their location and age make these figures “add more value” in illustrating the spread of Buddhism in Sichuan and adjacent areas in ancient China.


Discovered in 2021, these relics have not been designated as a protected cultural unit. At the time of the incident, local authorities had only managed to construct a protective rain awning and install surveillance equipment at the site. The remoteness of the location made it challenging for authorities to prevent villagers from painting the statues.


Local officials became aware of the villagers’ actions through monitoring devices, but by the time they reached the site, the painting had already been done.


An official told the Sichuan Daily, “It’s too far away and there is little we can do. Those villagers are all in their 70s or 80s. They said they painted the figures to express their thanks to Buddha for answered prayers. For now, all we can do is criticize and educate them.”


Nanjiang painted Buddhas


Authorities have called in experts to explore methods for removing the paint. These experts have expressed optimism about the possibility of restoring the statues to their original state.


This story sparked widespread debate among Chinese netizens.


One Weibo user expressed dismay towards the heritage protection and commented, “The rock carvings at Shifei River in Nanjiang, which date back to the late Sui Dynasty to early Tang Dynasty, have been painted over by ‘devout’ but ignorant locals, leaving one in tears. The task of cultural heritage protection is indeed arduous and far-reaching.”


Others argued that the villagers should not bear all the blame.


A comment read, “This isn’t the first or second time such an incident has occurred. We can’t solely fault the villagers for their lack of knowledge; there’s a clear deficiency in protective measures and public awareness regarding preservation. Authorities often cite difficulties and resource shortages in response to such incidents. Why not let the public contribute – allow public opinion to drive funding, and use social media to spread awareness and knowledge, instead of trying to hide or downplay these issues?”


Under China’s Cultural Relics Preservation Law, any restoration or renovation work on cultural relics must first receive approval from cultural authorities and be conducted by licensed cultural relic protection engineering firms.


Images via Sina Weibo.

TikTok Owner ByteDance Slashes Jobs as It Scales Back Gaming Business

TikTok parent company ByteDance’s ambitions in video gaming appear to have been short-lived, as the tech giant has struggled to gain a foothold amidst the fiercely competitive landscape dominated by Tencent Holdings, the world’s largest gaming company by revenue.


The Beijing-headquartered firm is retreating from the video game market with plans to wind down its main gaming brand Nuverse, which was established in 2019 and has only become one of six core business units under the company since 2021. The major pullback will likely result in hundreds of job cuts.


ByteDance confirmed its strategic pivot in the gaming sector in a statement on Monday, November 27.


“We regularly review our businesses and make adjustments to center on long-term strategic growth areas,” the company said. “Following a recent review, we’ve made the difficult decision to restructure our gaming business.”


The company will shut down games that have yet to launch by December and gradually divest from existing projects, including Crystal of Atlan and Earth: Revival, both of which were just launched this year and have attracted a decent number of players, according to media reports citing sources familiar with the matter.


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Crystal of Atlan. Image via Nuverse.


The big withdrawal aligns with the company’s strategy of streamlining operations and prioritizing its core ventures, such as TikTok and its Chinese equivalent Douyin, to boost profits, the same sources said.


Notably, the game Earth: Revival acknowledged on Weibo that its publisher does have certain capital structure arrangements for the gaming business, whereas these arrangements exert only limited impact on the project and its team. The statement was later endorsed by Crystal of Atlan.


China’s gaming industry has been undergoing dramatic changes, both internally and externally, in recent years.


In August 2021, the government banned all new video game releases for eight consecutive months, while unveiling policies limiting under-18s to only an hour of playtime per day on Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays and legal holidays. This dual approach dealt a severe blow to the booming Chinese video game market, propelling it into an uncertain and challenging period.


As regulations ease, the industry is showing signs of recovery with a rebound in earnings. In the first half of the year, the Chinese gaming market boasted a sales revenue of 144.3 billion RMB (around 20.36 billion USD), a 22.2% increase compared to the second half of 2022, stated a report released at ChinaJoy 2023.


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Earth: Revival. Image via Nuverse.


However, the future of the once promising industry is still up in the air, as it still needs to continue to grapple with the rapidly transforming landscape, regulatory uncertainties and the ever-changing preferences of players.


Over the past few years, ByteDance has invested heavily in its gaming unit in a bid to challenge the dominance of Tencent and NetEase. The internet company, in a bold move to seek more robust support, acquired Moonton Technology, the brains behind the hit mobile game Mobile Legends: Bang Bang, at a valuation of about 4 billion USD in 2021.


Unfortunately, the addition of Moonton did not yield the blockbuster success the company had anticipated, and now it is looking to offload the Shanghai-based studio, reported Reuters this month.


The gaming market in China has proven to be a tough nut to crack for ByteDance. The company’s lackluster performance in gaming and its clear gap with the top industry players have frustrated the countrys most valuable unicorn, which quickly lost patience in its quest for success in the world’s biggest gaming market.


Cover image via Robert Way / Shutterstock

How the Future of Ecommerce Livestreaming Lies with AI

“Stop spewing nonsense, this is not pricey at all, you should reflect on why your salary hasn’t risen all these years.”


No, this isn’t a parent berating their child, but instead a twisted sales pitch from Li Jiaqi — the infamous Chinese “Lipstick King” influencer and livestreamer. When he made this comment during a livestream in October, it was met with a major backlash amongst Chinese social media users.


This wasn’t the first time livestreamers in China have demonstrated their fallibility. From instances of flagrant tax evasion, to the extreme case of the popstar turned convicted rapist, celebrities in China often seem to fall as fast as they rise. And casting our lenses globally, this is evidently not a China-specific issue. If the goal is to make sales, the unpredicatability of human beings, from high school bully influencers to scandal-prone popstars, can be a liability for businesses.


According to McKinsey China’s research, the ecommerce livestreaming market has reached over a trillion RMB since its inception in 2017, a figure that it took traditional ecommerce channels over a decade to achieve. Another study in 2020 from the National Bureau of Statistics in China estimated its contribution to the economy at $210 billion, equivalent to 1.4% of GDP. Any brand who wishes to succeed in China needs to carefully consider livestreaming goals as part of its omni-channel sales strategy. Certainly the age-old marketing funnel of awarness-consideration-purchase has not changed, except that with the rise of livestreaming, this purchase cycle has significantly shortened. Meanwhile, time spent on shopping has dramatically expanded, and a new entertainment value has been folded into the experience.


Livestream factory

Image via CBN Data


This is, however, not a cheap business for brands. “For the top livestreamers, they can take a 25-35% commission on the sales of the product” said a Tik Tok executive close to the matter, speaking anonymously. Given the Matthew effect at play here, top influencers usually have strong commanding power in terms of negotiation and product choice, leaving brands on the weaker end of the bargain. While top influencers like Li Jiaqi and Viya made over 58 billion RMB in sales in 2020, accounting for over 20% of the industry, those at the middle and bottom of the curve are struggling to get views. These livestreamers work out of booths in factory-like studios, which take up entire buildings, each floor dedicated to a different product category. Often found in Hangzhou and Yiwu, close to the manufacturing sources for the goods being sold, in these centers commoditized livestreamers sell everything from clothing to electronics.


But it’s clear that this model is no longer working for those at the bottom of the food chain. Since 2022, 9 out of 10 livestreaming hubs in Hangzhou have shut down.


Why not engage AI then? For the recent Singles’ Day shopping festival we saw major beauty brands such as L’Oréal, Shiseido, and Estée Lauder all use AI livestreamers in their campaigns. Purely on JD.com, a major Chinese ecommerce platform, over 4000 brands used AI livestreamers during their 11.11 campaigns, and doubled their sales compared to the previous year.


Given the commoditized nature of ecommerce livestreaming and its formulaic sales techniques, the AI models can be pre-trained with relevant slogans and dialogues, optimized for sales volume. Unlike a human livestreamer, they can go on 24/7, with no unexpected faux pas. Things can even be scaled up in multiple languages, pre-recorded or in real-time.


JD AI influencers

AI-generated livestreamers. Image via JD.com app.


AI livestreamers have been part of China’s tech scene since at least 2017. In the West, AI influencers such as Lil Miquela and Lu from Magalu are usually engaged on Instagram and more traditional digital campaigns, working in collaboration with major retail and luxury brands. The appearance of these influencers sometimes plays up their artificiality, emphasizing that they are expressions of a new technology, rather than real people. Yet in China, given the popularity of livestreams and the major influence of Douyin, AI livestreamers need to look and feel much more real. This creates a higher barrier to entry, but also a more direct flywheel of growth for the creators behind these influencers.


So the biggest issue currently facing the universalization of AI livestreamers is still cost. Whether for JD.com or large international brands, the price of creating an AI livestreamer from scratch is at least millions of RMB. Furthermore, they can only be operated or modified by those with a large backend server. But it is simply a matter of time before we see more and more “AI Salarymen” (打工人) coming into the fold.


Banner image illustrated by Haedi Yang.

McDonald’s Launches New Merchandise Catering to Chinese Pet Parents

McDonald’s has once again proven how adept it is at grasping the tastes of young Chinese.


The fast food giant has managed to win the hearts of young people, especially those who own pets, through its recent merchandise — a surprising comeback for the brand’s much-loved cat bed — which comes hot on the heels of the brand’s recent viral collaboration with Crocs.


Back in 2021, McDonald’s set its sights on China’s booming pet industry. It teamed up with Chinese food delivery platform Ele.me to launch the ‘burger cat bed,’ which flew off shelves upon release.


McDonald's burger cat beds

Promo posters for McDonald’s burger cat beds. Images via Weibo.


Two years later, the cat bed returned in its version 2.0, now transformed into a versatile cat bed ‘bag’ that functions as both a cat bed and a travel carrier.


From November 15 to 19, McDonald’s made 500,000 new cat beds available in three designs at more than 5,000 of its restaurants in China. To acquire one of these sought-after bags, consumers were required to purchase a special combo meal priced at 99.9 RMB (approximately 14.1 USD), available exclusively as a delivery order on the McDonald’s app.


Three different designs of the cat bed

Three different designs of the cat bed. Image via Xiaohongshu.


Thanks to its adorable design and the endorsement of ‘influencer’ cats, the cat bed quickly captured the hearts of cat owners as well as other young people drawn to all things cute.


Netizens have taken to sharing their new acquisitions online, albeit mainly to show off their beloved feline friends. The hashtag ‘McDonald’s cat bed’ racked up 160 million views on Weibo.


“My cat loves the bag but cannot get into it,” posted a Xiaohongshu user who, like some others, felt the cat bed wasn’t big enough to accommodate all cats.


“I don’t have a cat, but I want the bag so bad,” read a top Weibo comment.


“My cat said she wanted it,” another user commented.


Screenshots of Xiaohongshu users sharing their McDonald's cat beds

Screenshots of Xiaohongshu users sharing their McDonald’s cat beds.


Not everyone is as captivated, though. Some raised doubts regarding the value for money of the product, as the price exceeded the anticipated level for many.


“I wouldn’t even buy this meal for 58 RMB (around 8.2 USD). [McDonald’s] turned it into a 99 RMB (around 13.9 USD) set menu with a free cat bed,” a Xiaohongshu user sarcastically commented. “How heartwarming.”


Nonetheless, the fast food chain remains relentless in its efforts to forge a stronger bond with young people. Moving at a rapid pace, its marketing strategies are tailored to the preferences of young consumers and the trends they follow.


Just a week after launching the cat bed, McDonald’s presented a partnership with Japanese graphic artist VERDY. Together, they have created innovative food packaging and a stylish merchandise collection featuring T-shirts, hoodies, and tote bags. Branded ‘exhibitions’ are being held in Beijing, Shanghai, Foshan, and Shenzhen, where customers can shop for the items.


McDonald's latest collaboration with VERDY

McDonald’s latest collaboration with VERDY. Images via Xiaohongshu.


Given the fierce rivalry within China’s catering industry, both from domestic and foreign brands, it is unsurprising that McDonald’s is wholeheartedly committed to executing robust marketing tactics, with a particular emphasis on winning over younger consumers, who are the driving force behind the brand’s soaring popularity across Chinese social media platforms.


The newly coined social media buzzword “Màimén” (麦门), specifically referring to the community of McDonald’s enthusiasts, stands as concrete proof of this.


Cover image via Weibo

Night Schools are a Big Hit with Overworked Chinese Youth

Bitter about your ex? China’s new night schools can teach you how to properly quit that situationship in just 12 classes and 500 RMB right now. Talk about a crash course in closure!


A fascinating new phenomenon is sweeping through major cities across China — the explosive rise of night schools catering to young professionals. Known as Yèxiào (夜校) in Chinese, these schools offer short learning courses on topics ranging from wine appreciation to artisanal leather crafting. Attendance numbers are staggering — hundreds of thousands of students flocking to night school classes after their regular work hours.


Far from providing standard academic content, these night schools are tapping into the personal passions and unfulfilled aspirations of China’s urban youth.


According to data from Chinese consumer platforms Meituan and Dianping, searches for “night schools” have skyrocketed an astonishing 980% over last year, while reviews for related hobby classes grew 226% year-on-year.


Beijing Night School Course List

A course list for Beijing Night School


The pacesetter has been the Shanghai Night School, which offers 12 classes led by masters in their fields for only 500 RMB ($70). When Shanghai’s autumn 2023 semester enrollment began, a striking 650,000 hopeful students simultaneously flooded onto the registration website. Soon major metropolises like Beijing, Xi’an, and Shenzhen followed the trend by launching their own distinctive night schools catering to local interests.


The hashtag “夜校” (night school) has gained a whopping 3.4 million views on Xiaohongshu, the Instagram-like platform beloved by urban youth in China.


For ambitious yet overworked urban professionals, these schools promise self-cultivation, community bonding, and most importantly, joyful feelings lacking in the hamster wheels of their regular workplaces. They represent temporary escape hatches from a white-collar work culture characterized by intense competition and burnout.


This phenomenon of endless overtime just to stand still is encapsulated by the sociological buzzword “involution,” or nèijuǎn in Chinese. More and more young Chinese workers, especially those trapped in cutthroat entry-level corporate jobs, are experiencing involution’s psychological stresses.


Most only dream of relief. Night schools seem to offer just that — an oasis from the rat race, even if only for a few hours each week. Hence their surging popularity amongst youth seeking both skills and solace.


In the long run, flourishing night schools could catalyze stronger workplace protections and community bonds across Chinese society. For now, they symbolize stressed Chinese youth reclaiming joy and balance amid urban pressure cookers — on their own creative terms.