Guide & Tutorial

Have you ever wondered why women in Tang Dynasty-themed films and TV shows often appear 'top-heavy'? It's not an illusion! In classical makeup and styling, the hairstyles of the mid to late Tang Dynasty are famously referred to as 'big heads.' But why? Just take a look at the number of hair buns atop their heads. The trend of 'big heads' actually began to emerge as early as the late Eastern Han Dynasty, when noblewomen started favoring high buns, considering them a mark of beauty. The Tang Dynasty took this trend to its peak, leading to the creation of various types of artificial hairpieces (Yiji) specifically for high buns. What did women do if they wanted to achieve this look but lacked enough hair? They simply wore artificial hairpieces. Common materials for Yiji included real hair or wooden substitutes. For example, this spiral-shaped Yiji was made from 'fake hair,' lined with hemp cloth, wrapped with palm fibers, and dyed to create a spiral shape. It could be easily pressed onto the head, showcasing both antiquity and craftsmanship. The materials for Yiji were diverse, not limited to real hair. Thin wooden pieces were also used. One such example is the lacquered…

In the historical drama 'Guo Se Fang Hua,' the portrayal of Yulu's maid has left a deep impression on viewers. Many netizens have humorously remarked, 'Did this hairstyle escape from a museum?' Indeed, the double - bun hairstyle, a signature look for young maidens in ancient times, holds a special place in traditional aesthetics. This hairstyle, known as Shuang Ji (双髻), was commonly worn by unmarried women, palace maids, and young servants, symbolizing youth and innocence. The Shuang Ji can be further categorized based on its shape and drooping style, such as Shuang Huan Ji (双鬟髻), Shuang Luo Ji (双螺髻), and Shuang Ya Ji (双丫髻). The foundational feature of this hairstyle is the division of hair into two equal parts, creating a symmetrical look. Each side is meticulously coiled into a small bun, typically positioned on either side of the head. The drooping version is poetically referred to as 'Shuang Chui Ji' (双垂髻). Additionally, variations like the Mao Ji (卯髻), characterized by its crescent shape, and the Huan Ji (鬟髻), featuring ring - like buns, add diversity to this traditional style. The Huan Ji often appears in pairs but can also be seen in multiples, with three or more buns…

Have you ever wondered why some classical Chinese portraits depict women with strikingly red cheeks that almost look like bruises? This distinctive look is actually an intentional and celebrated makeup style from ancient China called Jiuyun Zhuang (酒晕妆), or "Drunk Blush Makeup." This bold cosmetic trend originated during the prosperous Tang Dynasty (618 - 907 AD), particularly popular during Empress Wu Zetian's reign. The style involved applying vibrant red pigment across large portions of the face - not just the cheeks, but often extending to the eyelids, jawline, and even ears. Historical records from the Zhuangtai Ji (妆台记), an ancient Chinese cosmetic manual, describe three intensity levels of this look: the most dramatic Jiuyun Zhuang (Drunk Blush), the softer Taohua Zhuang (Peach Blossom Makeup), and the subtle Feixia Zhuang (Flying Sunset Makeup). Beauty Standard of the Time What modern eyes might perceive as excessive was actually a sophisticated beauty standard of its time. The warm Wozhe (渥赭) hue - a traditional pigment made from cinnabar and ink - served multiple purposes: enhancing healthy complexion, creating facial dimension, and projecting an image of vitality. During mid - Tang period, women often paired this look with bold eyebrows for an even more…

There’s a certain kind of outfit that turns heads, not just because it’s beautiful, but because it leaves people wondering: Is this really how ancient people dressed? Enter the Qixiong Ruqun (齐胸襦裙), a style of Hanfu where the skirt is tied all the way up to the chest—sometimes even under the armpits. It’s dramatic. It’s feminine. And it’s sparked years of debate over whether it’s based on history or pure fantasy. The Rise of a Silhouette That Defies Gravity At a glance, the Qixiong Ruqun feels like a distant cousin of the Korean Chima Jeogori—a wide-skirted dress worn high on the torso, paired with a short jacket. In fact, when you fluff out the skirt and widen the waistband, the two styles can look eerily similar. But the rabbit hole runs deeper than visual resemblance. Questions around the Qixiong Ruqun don’t just come down to aesthetics. They ask something more fundamental: How do you even keep this thing from sliding down? Anyone who’s tried wearing one has likely felt that awkward sensation—the pull of gravity on a waistband that doesn’t seem to be anchored to anything solid. It’s not a minor wardrobe inconvenience. It’s a design flaw. And it’s raised…

If you opened your wardrobe today and found not a single pair of pants, chances are you'd be horrified. Pants are so essential to modern life that we rarely stop to think about their origins. But dig a little into the dusty archives of history—or better yet, into ancient tombs—and you’ll discover that the invention of pants was not only a practical breakthrough but a sartorial milestone born from the needs of a changing world. Layers, Loops, and Crotches: How Ancient Chinese Dressed Forget the meme-worthy myths about ancient Chinese courtiers inventing pants to manipulate palace intrigue. There’s a rumor that during the Western Han dynasty, a powerful official named Huo Guang (霍光) came up with the idea of pants with crotches to help his granddaughter win the emperor’s favor by sabotaging the rest of the harem. Entertaining? Absolutely. True? Not really. The real story is messier, more fascinating, and rooted in functionality. The word “pants” in ancient China didn’t mean what it means now. You had “ku (袴 or 绔),” which referred to garments covering the lower leg, basically like gaiters or leg warmers. Then there was “kun (裈),” which were crotched garments that wrapped the lower body and…

In Tang Dynasty China, women’s fashion followed a consistent formula: a layered ensemble of shan (衫, a short top), ru (襦, a lined jacket), ku (袴, trousers or leggings), and qun (裙, skirts), often draped with a long, flowing pei (帔, a silk stole). But like modern trends, styles evolved—shifting from slim, fitted cuts in the early Tang to voluminous, relaxed silhouettes by the late Tang. This piece traces the evolution of women’s fashion across the Sui, Tang, and Five Dynasties. Each section opens with a vignette inspired by legendary figures—like the runaway courtesan Hongfu (红拂), the politically savvy Shangguan Wan’er (上官婉儿), or the tragic beauty Yang Yuhuan (杨玉环)—paired with reconstructions of their likely outfits. Drawing from archaeological finds, paintings, and sculptures, we’ve pieced together how these women might have dressed. But first, a primer on Tang textiles. The Fabric of Tang Fashion Silk fabrics were woven from intersecting threads: jing (经, warp, the lengthwise threads) and wei (纬, weft, the crosswise threads). Variations in these threads created intricate patterns. 1. Plain Weaves: Juan & Shi Juan (绢): A basic plain-weave silk, utilitarian and widely used. Shi (絁): Similar to juan, but with uneven weft threads, creating subtle horizontal stripes.…

When we think about ancient Chinese clothing, a curious misunderstanding often arises—many believe that the clothing of specific dynasties was determined by the seasons. For instance, people sometimes think of Tang Dynasty garments as summer wear, and Ming Dynasty attire as winter clothing. The idea seems odd at first, as we know that every era experienced all four seasons, so why would the clothing of one dynasty be associated with just one temperature? It turns out that this perception stems from a combination of misinterpretations and misconceptions about the nature of ancient Chinese garments. Let’s break down why this understanding doesn’t quite hold water. The Tang Dynasty: More Than Just Summer Fashion The Tang Dynasty is often associated with light, airy, and flowing garments, especially the famous "Qixiong Ruqun", which has become iconic in many representations of ancient Chinese fashion. This lightweight attire—made from silk and other fine materials—gives the impression of being suited for hot weather. But the truth is, Tang fashion wasn’t just about comfort during the heat. A deeper look reveals that many Tang garments, although appearing simple, actually consisted of several layers, which weren’t always visible on the surface. The illusion of "light" clothing in modern…

Have you ever thought that Huadian (花钿) were merely painted on? Sharp - eyed netizens have discovered that the Huadian in the drama 'Guo Se Fang Hua' are actually three - dimensional. Compared to painted ones, these gemstone Huadian showcase more intricate details and textures. To begin with, the Huadian worn by ancient Chinese women were not only vibrant in color but also diverse in materials. Beyond the traditional cinnabar outlines, they included gold foil, gemstones, pearls, and kingfisher feathers. During the Tang Dynasty, it was quite common for women to adorn their foreheads with Huadian. Historical records, such as Tang Li Fuyan's 'Xu Xuan Guai Lu·Ding Hun Dian,' mention Wei Gu's wife who 'always wore a Huadian between her eyebrows, never removing it even during baths or leisure.' By the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period, some women even covered nearly their entire faces with Huadian, reflecting the trend's popularity. For instance, red Huadian, outlined with cinnabar, were so vividly colored that Tang poet Bai Juyi wrote in 'Banquet at Zhou Hao's Guangfu Residence': 'Red cherries pale in comparison to the Huadian's brilliance.' Gold foil Huadian, also known as 'Jindian' (金钿), were so delicate they resembled cicada wings, earning…

In countless historical dramas, we often see female characters pressing a red paper to their lips for instant color. This raises an intriguing question: Was this actually a historical practice? The answer reveals far more sophistication in ancient Chinese cosmetics than modern audiences might assume. Ancient China developed lip color products called Kouzhi (口脂) or Chunzhi (唇脂) as early as the Northern Wei Dynasty. Agricultural scientist Jia Sixie documented their production in Qimin Yaoshu: "When marrow is scarce, blend with beef tallow. Without marrow, tallow alone suffices. Steep cloves and patchouli in warm wine. Simmer with equal parts moisture - retaining agents, adding artemisia for color enhancement. Filter through silk into porcelain or lacquerware to solidify. For lip balm, mix with vermilion and wrap in green oil." Historical lip colors included: 💄 Jiangse (绛色): The quintessential "China red" described in Shuowen Jiezi as "grand crimson," immortalized in poetry like "Silent are the crimson lips and beaded sleeves." 💄 Zhuhong (朱红): A red - orange hybrid resembling imperial palace walls, praised as "Fragrant balm precedes vermilion lips' movement." 💄 Tanse (檀色): A light mauve akin to modern nude shades, depicted as "Delicate green imprints eyebrow traces, while pale tan tints fading…

To create a traditional horse-face skirt is to converse with centuries of artisans. This process, honed during the Ming Dynasty and refined in the Qing era, transforms raw fabric into a cultural statement. Far from a simple garment, each skirt embodies calculated geometry, symbolic motifs, and generational wisdom—a wearable archive of Chinese craftsmanship. Material Selection Traditional skirts begin with fabric choices steeped in regional logic. Ming artisans preferred luo silk, a lightweight yet durable weave that allowed pleats to hold their shape without stiffness—ideal for Jiangnan’s humid climate. Qing tailors often opted for kesi tapestry silk for outer panels, its slit-tapestry technique enabling photorealistic embroidery. Modern recreations face ethical dilemmas: while purists source wild mulberry silk from historic Zhejiang farms, eco-conscious brands like Vermillion Phoenix now use organic hemp dyed with tea leaves to mimic antique hues. Pattern Drafting: Geometry in Service of Grace The four-panel template follows strict proportional rules. A typical Ming skirt for a woman of 165cm height requires: Two outer panels: 50cm wide x 105cm long Two inner panels: 30cm wide x 105cm long Waistband: 8cm wide x 110cm (allowing overlap) Historic pattern books like the Yuanyang Pu (1627) reveal secret adjustments: a 3° outward flare on outer panels to enhance the “horse face”…

Zhao Lusi's latest Tang Dynasty-inspired look in 'Pearl Curtain and Jade Screen' has fans reminiscing about her iconic Le Yan (乐嫣) character from 'The Long Ballad' (长歌行). While both styles draw from the Tang Dynasty aesthetic, there are notable differences that showcase her versatility in portraying historical roles. Le Yan's Hairstyle in 'The Long Ballad' In 'The Long Ballad', Zhao's Le Yan character sported the classic 'Bunny Ear' hairstyle, known as Baiheji (百合髻) or Lily Bun. This double-bun style, often with a center part or crisscross design, was popular during Emperor Taizong's reign (627 - 649 AD). Historical records from Ma Gao's 'Notes of Past and Present China' describe it as one of the signature hairstyles of early Tang Dynasty, perfectly complementing Zhao's sweet and youthful appearance. Hairstyle in 'Pearl Curtain and Jade Screen' The 'Pearl Curtain and Jade Screen' presents a more mature interpretation of Tang fashion. Zhao's character wears a single bun hairstyle, reminiscent of the Qiu Ji (囚髻) or Prisoner's Bun popular in mid - late Tang Dynasty. The styling features thinner, more voluminous sideburns creating a 'Chan Bin' (蝉鬓) or Cicada Wing effect - a delicate framing technique that mimics the transparency of cicada wings using…

In the popular drama 'Splendid Peace,' Ren Min's makeup has garnered significant attention, particularly her eyebrows, which dramatically enhance her facial features. In traditional Chinese makeup, the 'Emei' (蛾眉) or 'Moth Eyebrows' have been a long - standing trend. Described in ancient texts like 'Chu Ci' (楚辞) and 'Li Sao' (离骚), these eyebrows are slender, curved, and long, resembling the antennae of a silkworm moth. Historically, silkworm farming was a vital agricultural tradition, and even empresses participated in sericulture rituals, making the moth - inspired makeup unsurprising. Over time, the term 'Emei' evolved from a specific style to a general reference for various eyebrow shapes. For instance, during the Tang and Song dynasties, styles like 'Echi' (蛾翅) or 'Chuizhu Mei' (垂珠眉) emerged. In 'Splendid Peace,' Ren Min sports the 'Yueleng Mei' (月棱眉), also known as 'Qu Yue Mei' (却月眉), which resembles a crescent moon with a sharp upper edge and a softly blended lower edge. Other similar styles include 'Lianjuan Mei' (连娟眉), 'Liu Ye Mei' (柳叶眉), and 'Yuanshan Mei' (远山眉). These curved, elongated eyebrows suit most face shapes but are particularly flattering for round or broad faces, adding a sense of space and layered beauty reminiscent of Chinese ink paintings.…

Why didn't the high-waisted hanfu skirts (齐胸裙) worn by people in the Tang Dynasty fall down? This kind of skirt didn't have elastic bands or other similar measures. Did it rely on large breasts to stay up? Could it really stay in place without falling? The Principle of Skirt Fixation As we all know, in the Sui and Tang Dynasties of China's clothing history, the waistline of skirts became popular to move up. The current popular way of wearing it is called "high-waisted". As the name suggests, since it is worn on the chest and the high-waisted skirts we often see don't have shoulder straps, the force can only go downward. Then the chest must bear the necessary pressure. Let's think in a more straightforward way. We know that a skirt won't fall when tied around the waist because the waist is like a mortise and tenon structure. As long as it is tied tightly enough to prevent the waistline from slipping, you rarely see a wrapped skirt falling off unless it isn't tied properly. Similarly, for high-waisted skirts, as long as the tying part is tightened, you can jump around without the skirt falling. Fabric and Design Considerations Of…

At a recent event, actress Zhou Ye (周也) stunned in a shawl draped in a way reminiscent of her character in Scent of Time (为有暗香来). This sparked a wave of admiration online: “Who knew a shawl could be worn like this? Fashion truly transcends time!” Indeed, the various ways modern shawls are styled bear a striking resemblance to the classical pibo (披帛) of ancient China. While today’s shawls come in a variety of materials and styles, their role in enhancing an outfit remains unchanged. And just like in ancient times, there’s more than one way to wear them. The Evolution of Draped Elegance The concept of draping fabric over the shoulders dates back thousands of years. As early as the Wei and Jin dynasties, terracotta figurines depicted women wearing short, wide scarves known as 帔 (pei) or 披 (pi). These early forms of pibo were not just functional but also stylish, much like modern scarves. A poetic reference from the Southern and Northern Dynasties describes a woman’s elegance: "Her step-shaking hairpin sways, and the red edges of her pei flutter." By the Tang Dynasty, the pibo had evolved into a long, narrow accessory, becoming an essential part of women’s fashion.…

A Shift Towards Historical Accuracy For years, historical dramas have enchanted audiences with their lavish costumes, intricate sets, and grand storytelling. However, one aspect often overlooked is the accuracy of children’s hairstyles. Many period dramas have traditionally styled young characters with adult-like hairdos, giving them a "miniature adult" appearance that lacks the playful authenticity of childhood. Recently, however, a shift has begun, and productions like Jia Ye (家业), Flourished Peony (国色芳华), and Joy of Life (庆余年) are finally embracing historically accurate child hairstyles, leading viewers to exclaim: "So this is what ancient children really looked like!" The Evolution of Child Hairstyles in Ancient China Ancient Chinese children's hairstyles were far from uniform; they evolved through different stages as the child grew. Similar to modern times, children in historical China had distinct hair grooming traditions, beginning with shaved heads in infancy, moving to partially grown and styled hair, and eventually progressing to more formal hairstyles in adolescence. The idea that children must wear miniature versions of adult hairstyles is a modern misconception that certain period dramas are now correcting. Infancy: The Shaved or Minimal Hair Phase In early childhood, many children had their heads shaved regularly to promote hair growth, a…

Ancient Chinese wisdom distilled clothing choices into simple truths: light robes for summer, padded jackets for winter. But look closer, and you’ll find a nuanced system—24 solar terms (节气), 72 micro-seasons (物候), and festivals each demanding specific colors and motifs. This wasn’t just practicality; it was a silent dialogue between humans and the rhythms of nature.. Chapter 1: Lunar New Year (春节) The tradition of wearing new clothes for the Lunar New Year is widespread in Chinese culture. Regardless of social class, people are expected to wear their finest attire to usher in the new year. For officials and those of higher status, formal ceremonial clothing is a must. The colors of these garments—red, blue, yellow, white, and black—offer a range of options, but certain traditions guide their use. White is typically worn for mourning, red symbolizes celebration, and yellow was reserved for emperors after the Tang Dynasty. Red, blue, and black are more common, with red standing out as a symbol of prosperity, joy, and good fortune. Throughout the New Year festivities, red decorations such as firecrackers, lanterns, and spring couplets (春联) fill the environment, creating an atmosphere of happiness and festivity. Red has become the hallmark of wealth…

If you've ever watched a historical drama and wondered how anyone in those flowing, oversized sleeves could manage to go about their daily life—let alone eat, fight, or even use the restroom—you're not alone. The sight of characters gracefully strolling through scenes, their sleeves billowing out like sails, can seem a bit comical at times. But are these oversized sleeves a true reflection of ancient attire, or just a modern cinematic effect designed for flair? Understanding the "Big Sleeve" in Historical Fashion The term "wide sleeves" or "broad sleeves" has become almost synonymous with traditional Chinese clothing, especially in popular depictions of Hanfu in historical dramas. But here's the first thing to clarify: this feature is not a universal characteristic of all Hanfu garments. Instead, it’s a defining element of the ceremonial or formal robes, often worn by people of high social status, such as royalty or high-ranking officials. The expansive sleeves were meant to highlight the wearer’s identity, power, and elegance, signaling a person’s nobility or importance. Outside of official events or ceremonies, though, everyday clothing was designed for practicality, not drama. The oversized sleeves often seen in TV shows are a more recent trend driven by visual aesthetics,…

As a history enthusiast and frequent viewer of period dramas, I’ve noticed a troubling trend: even well-received shows often stumble when it comes to historical accuracy in costumes. Ming Dynasty in 1566 (大明王朝1566), a political drama lauded for its intricate plot and acting, is no exception. Despite its sky-high ratings, the series fails to accurately portray Ming-era official attire—a surprising misstep given the wealth of surviving records and artifacts from the period. Historical Accuracy vs. Creative Liberties The drama revolves around court politics, featuring emperors, ministers, and bureaucrats. Ming official clothing, meticulously documented in texts like the History of Ming, leaves little room for ambiguity. Yet the show’s costume design strays far from reality. Take the officials’ headwear, for example. The odd, box-like crowns worn by characters resemble a simplified version of the Longjin (笼巾), a ceremonial headpiece reserved for nobility—not regular officials. According to the History of Ming, the Longjin was part of formal court attire (chaofu, 朝服) worn during grand ceremonies. It included intricate accessories like jade or gold cicadas, pheasant feathers, and layered silk bands. Yet in the show, the design feels cheap and anachronistic—closer to a generic “ancient official” costume bought in bulk for low-budget productions.…

If there’s one thing historical dramas love, it’s a good cloak. Flowing, dramatic, and effortlessly elegant, the cloak has become a staple in costume design, draping over generals, scholars, and noblewomen alike. But as striking as they look on screen, one can’t help but wonder—do these cloaks actually keep anyone warm? Take Nirvana in Fire (琅琊榜) as an example. The protagonist, Mei Changsu (梅长苏), spends most of his time wrapped in thick fur-lined cloaks, yet somehow, he always looks like he’s one chilly breeze away from freezing solid. Viewers have joked that he must have succumbed to hypothermia long before the series’ dramatic conclusion. So what’s the deal? Are these cloaks truly as impractical as they seem, or is there more to their historical evolution? Cloaks in Costume Design Cloaks have long been favored by costume designers for their cinematic effect. They add movement to a character, create an air of mystery, and make even the most unassuming figure look imposing. In Nirvana in Fire, Mei Changsu’s fur-lined cloaks emphasize his frailty while still giving him an air of quiet authority. But do these garments serve their intended function, or are they just glorified fashion statements? The answer, unfortunately, leans…

If you spotted a character in a historical drama twirling in a pink, pleated dress and thought, Wow, that looks surprisingly modern, you're not alone. The outfit in question, featured in The Glory (雁回时), closely resembles a contemporary flared dress, but it actually belongs to a category of Ming Dynasty garments known as tieli (贴里). This style, along with the similar yesa (曳撒), reflects a fascinating blend of influences, practicality, and visual appeal—so much so that modern designers could easily take inspiration from it. Tieli vs. Yesa: Not Just for Women At first glance, tieli and yesa might look like elegant, structured dresses, but in the Ming Dynasty, they were primarily worn by men. Both originated under the influence of Yuan-Mongol styles but were later adapted into Han Chinese fashion. The key difference? Yesa features a smooth front panel known as a Mamian (马面), while tieli is characterized by full pleats from top to bottom. These structured garments were designed for mobility, making them popular choices for officials, scholars, and even military figures. While women occasionally wore these garments, it was often as part of cross-dressing trends in dramas or plays, where they took on male roles. Today, it’s not…

As someone deeply passionate about historical clothing and accessories, people often ask me: "Does your knowledge of ancient fashion ruin your enjoyment of period dramas?" The answer is—quite the opposite! In fact, it adds another layer of enjoyment, turning each viewing into a treasure hunt for accurate details (or amusing anachronisms). Take "Nirvana in Fire 2" (琅琊榜之风起长林), for example. The series boasts stunning visuals, but as I watched, I couldn't help but notice a curious detail—the jewelry worn by characters like Empress Xun (荀皇后) and the Grand Lady of Laiyang (莱阳太夫人) bore striking similarities to Ming Dynasty designs. However, their application in the drama was... unconventional, to say the least. It appears that the production team sourced historically inspired pieces but missed the mark on how they were actually worn. Filigree Gold Phoenix Hairpins One of the most eye-catching pieces worn by Empress Xun is a set of three gold phoenix hairpins (累丝嵌宝石金凤簪). These exquisite accessories have a real-life counterpart: they are modeled after jewelry unearthed from Ming Dynasty imperial tombs in the western suburbs of Beijing. These tombs, unfortunately looted and excavated long ago, left behind only fragments of their once-lavish burial artifacts, yet what remains showcases remarkable craftsmanship.…

The opulent red gown worn by the character of Empress Miao in the historical drama The Glory (雁回时) has left viewers in awe. With its vibrant crimson hue, intricate details, and dramatic silhouette, it conjures up images of Dream of the Red Chamber (红楼梦), especially the scene where the imperial consort visits the imperial court in a ceremonial outfit. Could it be a nod to a regal garment from the Ming Dynasty, the mangpao (蟒袍), a dress that exudes both power and ceremony? The outfit Miao Guifei (苗贵妃) wears in The Glory isn't just any costume—it's an interpretation of the mangpao, a traditional Ming Dynasty ceremonial gown typically worn by high-ranking officials and imperial family members. The gown’s structure is a perfect balance between grandiosity and elegance, characterized by its round collar, long robe length, and the iconic mang (蟒) dragon motif embroidered onto the fabric. The mangpao was often reserved for the most important occasions, worn by figures of the highest stature, such as empresses or consorts. In the case of Miao Guifei, the attire suggests not only her high rank but her formidable presence—no wonder viewers felt like this was more than just a royal entrance; it had…

On Ninghui Road in Yu Garden Mall, Kaede from Tokyo, Japan, and her friend are experiencing Hanfu photography in Yu Garden. As spring arrives, the 2025 Shanghai Yu Garden Mid - Spring Flower Festival has kicked off, attracting numerous Chinese and foreign tourists. According to the news from Yu Garden Mall, starting from the Mid - Spring Flower Festival, the upgraded Huancai Yu Garden Light Show combined with Chinese - style performances has officially launched. During this flower festival, accompanied by five sets of Chinese - style music, Yu Garden will use the core buildings in the central square, Nine - Bend Bridge, and Golden Square as the background to present a spring flower scene with dynamic floodlights. Recently, when the reporter visited Yu Garden, it was found that at nightfall, the dynamic lights in the garden blended with the flower scene and Chinese - style performances, swaying gracefully. Whether on Ninghui Road, known as the "ceiling of Chinese aesthetics", or in the central square and Golden Square where Chinese - style dances and ancient music are performed irregularly, tourists in Hanfu can be seen everywhere. Regardless of nationality and language, they not only integrate with the immersive Chinese -…

Chen Duling (陈都灵) is an actress with a rare ancient charm. In the past, she outshone Bai Lu (白鹿) in every aspect. Ancient costumes are very demanding on body conditions. Especially for tall and slender women, they look very charming, fully embodying the temperament of the ancients. However, they are not friendly to those with a poor body - proportion and a five - five split figure. Although they can cover up their body flaws, the difference is obvious when standing together. This is why Chen Duling outshone Bai Lu in Long Moon Embracing the Star, and Bai Lu was even labeled as an ordinary - looking woman. This time, Chen Duling is stunningly beautiful in Qin - Han Hanfu. She suits these figure - flattering and fate - filled costumes, including some Song - style and Wei - Jin - style Hanfu. The Qin - Han hairstyles are quite simple. Most of them are loose hair with wisps of hair left at the temples, making the person look delicate and vulnerable. Coupled with willow - leaf eyebrows, the image of a gentle and helpless beauty emerges. However, Chen Duling's eyes are sharp. Although she looks like an innocent little…