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…

At 41, Tang Yan has challenged an ancient-style photo shoot for the first time. Soon, we'll also see her last ancient-costume drama. At this age, it's no longer suitable for her to play in ancient idol dramas. Tang Yan, if you're being kidnapped, just blink. She managed to break free from the label of an ancient idol drama actress and upgrade to a serious drama actress because of the drama The Longest Day in Shanghai. Acting in an ancient idol drama again will easily make her a target of ridicule. In ancient idol dramas, we look for handsome men and beautiful women. Although Tang Yan takes good care of herself, her age is still quite obvious. If she gets mocked, it'll be hard for her to recover. We hope she has good luck this time; otherwise, it'll damage her newly-established image. This is Tang Yan's first ancient-style photo shoot, and she's currently the only one among the 85-generation actresses to do so. It's full of a sense of sophistication and is different from those cheap Hanfu photo shoots, instantly raising the bar. Tang Yan's outfit is a collision between modern and ancient styles. A high-end blue feather dress paired with…

In the celestial hierarchy of Journey to the West (西游记), divine mounts (神骑) occupy a paradoxical role: they are both exalted and enslaved. Lions, elephants, and golden-haired beasts—once fearsome demons—are collared, neutered, and pressed into service by bodhisattvas and sages. Their domestication symbolizes Heaven's power to redeem chaos into order. Yet one figure stands apart, unbroken and unbridled: Wukong, the Monkey King. The Anatomy of a Divine Mount Heaven's stables are not filled by chance. To qualify as a mount, a creature must meet strict criteria—criteria Wukong shattered with every swing of his staff. The Biology of Submission Divine mounts are almost exclusively quadrupeds: lions, elephants, oxen, or horses. Their four-legged stance signifies stability, a biological pragmatism for carrying gods across realms. Wukong, however, is a bipedal primate—a mimic of humans who stands upright, wields tools, and laughs at gravity. His very anatomy rebels against the concept of being "ridden." In Chinese symbolism, monkeys represent the restless "heart-mind" (xinyuan), a metaphor for desires that resist control. To mount him would be to tame the untamable, a paradox even the Jade Emperor's bureaucracy couldn't resolve. The Politics of Punishment Divine mounts are not born—they are made. Take the Nine-Headed Lion, a…

When world leaders stepped onto the global stage at the 2014 APEC Summit in Beijing, their attire transcended mere diplomatic protocol. The "New Chinese Attire" (新中装) became an instant cultural phenomenon—a sartorial manifesto that bridged millennia of craftsmanship with 21st-century innovation. This meticulously curated wardrobe did more than clothe dignitaries; it reintroduced the world to Jiangnan's textile heritage while sparking a "Guofeng" (国风) revival that continues to shape China's contemporary fashion identity. Today, as traditional techniques like Su embroidery (苏绣) and Song brocade (宋锦) find fresh relevance in streetwear and haute couture, the South China Museum's exhibition Splendid Jiangnan: The Golden Age of Chinese Textile Art (锦绣江南——中国传统织绣工艺的巅峰创造) revisits this pivotal moment, unpacking how six iconic APEC ensembles became catalysts for cultural reinvention. From Imperial Workshops to Global Runways The Yangtze River Delta's Jiangnan (江南) region, long celebrated as the cradle of Chinese textile excellence, has cultivated textile arts for over 2,000 years. During the Ming and Qing dynasties, Suzhou's embroidery ateliers and Nanjing's brocade looms supplied the imperial court with fabrics so exquisite they were deemed "cloth woven by clouds." Yet by the late 20th century, many of these crafts faced extinction, preserved only in museum archives or practiced by…

China's strongest kids in the street dance scene The roar of the crowd at Paris' Bercy Arena was deafening. Under the bright lights of the 2025 Juste Debout World Street Dance Finals, spectators from around the world held their breath as two young Chinese dancers took the stage. But what followed was unlike anything seen before. Ten-year-old Song Haoming from Jiangsu and twelve-year-old Fu Junxi from Guangxi were about to make history. Blending the fluidity of Tai Chi with the explosive energy of Shaolin whirlwind kicks (少林旋风腿), they performed an electrifying routine that seamlessly fused traditional Chinese martial arts with contemporary street dance. With every precise movement—whether the open-handed elegance of Drunken Fist (醉拳) or the controlled power of Southern Fist (南拳)—they shattered expectations, redefining the boundaries of urban dance. In a competition where age holds no restrictions, the duo's "martial arts street dance" stunned audiences and led them past two foreign teams into the final four—an unprecedented achievement for Chinese contestants. Online reactions exploded: "Are all Chinese kids born as Jackie Chan?" "Chinese artistry is always mesmerizing!" "This dance was mesmerizing—I absolutely love it!" Meanwhile, Chinese netizens celebrated their success, dubbing them "China's strongest kids" in the street dance…

For centuries, studies of Yuan (1271–1368), Ming (1368–1644), and Qing (1644–1912) dynasty art have orbited around Wenrenhua (literati painting), a genre dominated by scholar-officials who fused poetry, calligraphy, and ink landscapes. While masterpieces by iconic figures like Ni Zan or Wang Meng remain celebrated, this narrow focus has flattened our understanding of China's visual culture. How did literati painting ascend to dominance? What role did court commissions or commercial workshops play? And where do female artists and cross-cultural exchanges fit into this narrative? In Chinese Painting: Yuan to Qing (中国绘画：元至清)—the final volume of his groundbreaking trilogy—art historian Wu Hung (巫鸿) dismantles these entrenched hierarchies. By weaving dynastic timelines with layered analyses of materials, regional networks, and social ecosystems, he resurrects a vibrant scene of artistic production. At a recent Beijing forum co-hosted by The Beijing News and Shanghai-based publisher Horizon Media, Wu joined Huang Xiaofeng (黄小峰), a Central Academy of Fine Arts professor, to discuss how this "three-dimensional" approach revives overlooked voices. Below are highlights from their conversation. Rethinking the Grand Narrative The very act of writing a history of Chinese painting is, in itself, a daunting task. As Wu points out, the sources available to us today are vastly…

China, a land of timeless grandeur, boasts a history stretching over 5,000 years. Its legacy is preserved in the country's greatest museums—places where jade burial suits whisper secrets of the afterlife, where ink scrolls unfold poetic landscapes, and where terracotta soldiers stand in silent formation, guarding their emperor in eternity. Whether you are an enthusiast of ancient warfare, an admirer of fine porcelain, or a lover of intricate calligraphy, these institutions offer an immersive experience. Let us embark on a journey through China's most fascinating collections—each artifact a window into an unparalleled past. The Palace Museum 故宫博物院 Standing at the heart of Beijing, the Forbidden City—also known as the Palace Museum—was home to 24 emperors of the Ming and Qing dynasties. Beyond its red walls lies a breathtaking collection of 1.86 million artifacts, ranging from imperial robes and jade carvings to ceremonial bronzes and priceless calligraphy. This museum is not only a testament to China's imperial power but also a masterpiece of architectural symmetry and philosophy. Every piece within its walls speaks to the imperial vision of grandiosity, the wisdom of rulers who believed their mandate came from the heavens, and the delicate relationship between life, death, and legacy. Highlights…

When Xiao Zhan's studio announced the global release of his album We / Us / Wild on March 14, even they might not have anticipated the storm it would unleash within 24 hours-all without pre-promotion, no music show performances, and zero TikTok hype. Day One Triumph: Numbers That Speak Volumes Within eight hours of release, the album topped iTunes charts in 19 countries. By the next day, that number had climbed to 21 No. 1s and 41 high rankings globally, securing the second spot on the worldwide album chart. What's more shocking is its dominance in Japan, a notoriously insular market where the Mandarin album debuted at No. 1 on iTunes. In the U.S., it rose from No. 2 to claim the top spot, with its music video also hitting first place. A foreign music critic remarked, "This isn't just a win for Chinese music-it's a triumph of emotional resonance." Unlike K-pop groups that flood global markets with multilingual tracks and worldwide tours, his Mandarin-only album shattered cultural barriers through raw authenticity. His Milan Fashion Week appearances, Cannes Film Festival teasers for The Legend of Eagle Shooter, and casual Barcelona postcards shared on social media became subtle catalysts for this…

The recently premiered historical drama Si Jin (思锦) has captivated audiences with its compelling narrative of personal awakening and growth, seamlessly woven into the exquisite aesthetic of Song Dynasty culture. Adapted from the novel of the same name by Dong Tian De Liu Ye, Si Jin is helmed by artistic director and lead producer Yang Xiaopei. The series follows the journey of Jiang Si, the fourth daughter of the Dongping Marquis household, who is betrayed and seemingly perishes at the hands of her lover, Yu Qi (also known as Yu Jin). However, fate grants her a second chance—this time, she is determined to seize control of her destiny. By reinterpreting a classic "rebirth" trope with a fresh perspective, the series not only explores a nuanced portrayal of female agency but also introduces a more immersive engagement with traditional aesthetics—giving historical elements a more dynamic role in the storytelling rather than treating them as mere decorative backdrops. A New Take on Female Strength While rebirth and revenge narratives are hardly new in historical dramas, Si Jin breaks away from the conventional "black lotus" trope, which often portrays female protagonists as extreme avengers. Instead, the show emphasizes intelligence and strategy as the…

In Suzhou, a bowl of noodles isn't just a meal—it's a symphony of flavors, seasons, and centuries-old craftsmanship. Dive into the world of Suzhou-style noodles, where diners choose from over 20 toppings and recite poetic codes to customize their perfect bowl. Broth, Noodles, and the Art of Jiaotou Walk into any Suzhou noodle shop—Zhu Hong Xing, Yu Xing Ji, or a humble alleyway stall—and you'll witness a ritual as precise as calligraphy. The city's signature noodles revolve around three pillars: tang (broth), mian (noodles), and jiaotou (toppings). But first, you'll need to speak the local lingo. Broth: Suzhou's broth is a study in contrast. Hong tang (red broth), infused with soy sauce and pork bone essence, offers a rich umami depth, while bai tang (white broth), simmered from poultry and fish, is a translucent elixir. Regulars might order kuan tang (extra broth) to savor the liquid gold or jin tang (less broth) to spotlight the noodles. Noodles: Unlike northern China's hand-pulled varieties, Suzhou favors delicate machine-pressed strands as thin as silk threads. The magic lies in the jiyu bei ("crucian carp back") technique—a dome-shaped nest of noodles that traps heat and flavor. "Only the first batch of morning noodles, cooked…

The clock struck 9 PM in Beijing, but inside Paris's Palais de Tokyo, the night was just beginning. Editors from Vogue, influencers clutching their iPhones, and celebrities like Liu Yu and Yuan Shanshan buzzed under the cavernous ceilings, their eyes fixed on towering embroidered tapestries depicting mythical butterflies, celestial cranes, and love stories woven into silk. This wasn't just another Paris Fashion Week spectacle—it was SHIATZY CHEN's Fall/Winter 2025 collection, a masterclass in bridging 1,000-year-old Miao traditions with the pulse of contemporary luxury. For founder Shiatzy Chen (Wang Chen Tsai-Hsia), this show wasn't merely about aesthetics; it was a manifesto. "When I first started, department stores told me, 'No one wants Chinese styles—give us international,'" she recalls, her voice steady yet charged with defiance. Nearly five decades later, her brand stands as a beacon of neo-Chinese chic, proving that heritage isn't a relic—it's a revolution. Ancient Stitches and Avant-Garde Craft The collection, titled Far&Near, hinged on a radical proposition: What if Miao embroidery—a UNESCO-listed intangible cultural heritage—could speak the language of modern urbanites? To answer this, Chen and her team embarked on three pilgrimages to Guizhou's remote Miao villages, collaborating with seven intangible cultural heritage artisans. Their mission? To decode…

Recently, the television adaptation of Northward (北上), based on the Mao Dun Literature Prize-winning novel, has captivated audiences in China. Airing in prime time on CCTV, the drama transports viewers to the banks of the Grand Canal, where a group of young dreamers navigate the currents of life. More than just a coming-of-age story, the series breathes fresh life into the rich heritage of the Grand Canal, bridging historical and contemporary narratives with an innovative approach. In recent years, adapting literary masterpieces for television has become an increasingly popular trend, and Northward offers a compelling case study of how literature and cinema can reinforce one another. By blending traditional storytelling with a fresh cinematic vision, the show opens up new possibilities for literary adaptations. A Bold Reinterpretation of a Literary Classic As one of Xu Zechen's most celebrated novels, Northward carries a distinctive literary voice. The creative team behind the series has worked meticulously to preserve the novel's core themes while reinterpreting them for a contemporary audience. Instead of simply recounting historical events set in the Qing Dynasty, the adaptation shifts the focus to the 1990s, a period of rapid change in China. This bold reimagining places the narrative within…

2025 emerges as a landmark year for Xianxia (仙侠) — a genre blending immortal heroes, ancient mythology, and Taoist-inspired cultivation. This guide highlights the most anticipated Xianxia anime of 2025. Dive into epic tales of celestial battles, mortal struggles, and philosophical depth, all while immersing yourself in China's historical and mythological heritage. A Record of a Mortal's Journey to Immortality: Overseas Strife 凡人修仙传：外海风云 Aired: January 2025 (ongoing) Genres: Cultivation, Adventure, Political Intrigue Cultural Themes: Han Dynasty aesthetics, Confucian values, Taoist philosophy Based on Wang Yu's legendary novel A Record of a Mortal's Journey to Immortality, this highly anticipated arc follows Han Li, a pragmatic mortal navigating the treacherous world of cultivation. The Overseas Strife installment takes the story beyond the familiar sect conflicts and into uncharted maritime territories, where Han Li faces foreign cultivators, demonic sea creatures, and ancient island ruins hiding lost techniques. As an ordinary man relying on intellect rather than destiny, Han Li's journey encapsulates the enduring appeal of the underdog—a mortal striving for ascension in a world dominated by celestial elites. The animation's hyper-realistic art style, reminiscent of traditional Chinese landscape paintings, breathes life into mist-shrouded mountains, oceanic whirlpools, and intricately designed talismans. The attention to…

In the golden age of historical dramas, off-the-shoulder costumes were a staple, often resembling an ancient version of a "deep V." These bold designs captivated audiences with their dramatic flair, but as modern productions strive for greater historical accuracy, such outfits have largely vanished from the screen. Were these revealing styles ever rooted in historical reality? And what led to their decline in contemporary storytelling? The Historical Roots of Off-the-Shoulder Fashion Contrary to the sensationalized portrayals in early historical dramas, ancient Chinese fashion was far more conservative. While certain artworks, such as the murals in the Xu Xianxiu Tomb (徐显秀墓) or figurines from the Wei and Jin dynasties, might suggest the existence of off-the-shoulder attire, these depictions are often misinterpreted. In reality, such outfits were layered with undergarments, ensuring modesty even with a slightly exposed neckline. For instance, during the Northern and Southern Dynasties, a style known as Daxiu ru (large-sleeved robes, 大袖襦) gained popularity. This design featured wide sleeves and a deep neckline, but it was always paired with a circular undergarment or Liangdang (a type of vest, 裲裆) to cover the shoulders. The result was a look that revealed only the collarbone at most—far from the exaggerated "shoulder-baring"…

In the world of historical dramas, few details are as iconic as the sight of characters tying their wide sleeves before engaging in combat. This simple yet practical act, often seen in childhood favorites, is more than just a stylistic choice—it’s a reflection of ancient Chinese ingenuity and functionality. From battlefields to everyday life, the practice of tying sleeves has deep cultural roots, blending practicality with elegance. Sleeve-Tying The tradition of tying sleeves can be traced back to two main purposes: as a simplified version of arm guards in martial contexts and as a practical tool for daily tasks, known as panbo (襻膊). Both uses highlight the adaptability of ancient Chinese clothing to the needs of its wearers. Arm Guards: From Battlefields to Screens The earliest examples of arm guards date back to the Warring States period, where bronze arm guards were used by soldiers. These cylindrical metal protectors were designed to shield the forearm during combat. By the Han Dynasty, arm guards evolved into textile versions, such as the famous "Five Stars Rise in the East, Benefiting China" arm guard, made of intricately woven brocade. These guards were secured with straps, offering both protection and flexibility. In modern historical…

Purple, often associated with royalty and nobility, has long been considered a color of prestige and power. In ancient China, it was widely believed that commoners were forbidden from wearing purple, reserved exclusively for the elite. But was this truly the case? The answer, as it turns out, is more nuanced than a simple yes or no. The Origins of Purple’s Prestige The perception of purple as a noble color stems from two main factors: the high cost of purple dye and the influence of class systems and cultural trends. However, it’s important to note that not all shades of purple were created equal. The color spectrum includes countless variations, and not every hue was off-limits to the general populace. The Cost of Purple Dye Purple dye was indeed expensive to produce. One of the most common sources of purple dye was the murasaki plant, while another was sappanwood, which yielded a different shade of purple. However, plant-based dyes were less stable and durable compared to mineral-based alternatives. During the Han Dynasty, a breakthrough occurred with the discovery of "Han Purple," a synthetic pigment made from barium copper silicate. This vibrant hue, found on the terracotta warriors of the Qin…

In the world of historical dramas, the weimao (帷帽, veiled hat) is a staple of cinematic beauty. Often seen in scenes where the heroine’s face is revealed as the wind lifts her veil, this iconic accessory has become synonymous with ethereal charm. Yet, despite its visual appeal, the weimao is often dismissed as a “beautiful but useless” item. But is it truly just a decorative prop, or does it hold deeper historical significance? The Origins of the Veiled Hat The weimao traces its roots to the nomadic tribes of ancient Central Asia, where it was initially designed as a practical garment to shield wearers from sand and wind. Its predecessor, the mili (羃篱, a bamboo-framed veil), was worn by both men and women for protection during travel. Over time, the weimao evolved into a shorter, more refined version made of silk or gauze, with a wide brim and a veil that draped to the neck. By the Tang Dynasty (618–907 AD), it had become a fashionable accessory for women, symbolizing both modesty and status. A Symbol of Changing Times The weimao reached its peak popularity during the Tang Dynasty, a period marked by cultural openness and innovation. Historical records, such…

In the world of ancient Chinese jewelry, few pieces have captured the imagination of modern enthusiasts quite like the so-called "Moth Crown" attributed to Li Jingxun (李静训), a young noblewoman from the Sui Dynasty. However, recent scholarly insights reveal that this exquisite artifact is not a crown at all, but a hairpin—a detail that has been overlooked in popular reproductions and adaptations. This revelation not only corrects a historical misconception but also deepens our appreciation for the intricate craftsmanship and cultural significance of this remarkable piece. The Misidentified "Crown" The hairpin, often mistaken for a crown, is a stunning example of Tang Dynasty jewelry. It belongs to the category of buyao (步摇, step-shaking ornaments), which were designed to sway gently with the wearer’s movements. Shen Congwen (沈从文), in his seminal work Research on Ancient Chinese Clothing (中国古代服饰研究), refers to it as a "moth-and-flower hair ornament," (闹蛾儿扑花首饰) while archaeological reports describe it simply as a "hair accessory." The confusion likely stems from the fact that most images of the artifact show only a partial view, leading many to assume it was a crown. However, crowns typically have a base structure, which this piece lacks. Instead, it is a multi-pronged hairpin, a…

In recent years, intricate half-face masks have become a popular accessory in historical dramas, leaving many viewers wondering: how did these delicate ornaments stay securely on the wearer’s face? The answer lies in the ingenious design of ancient Chinese masks, which have evolved over millennia, blending functionality with artistry. These masks, far from being mere decorative items, hold deep cultural significance and offer a fascinating glimpse into China’s rich heritage. The Mechanics of Ancient Masks At first glance, these masks appear to float effortlessly on the face, but a closer look reveals their practical design. Typically, they are secured by ties at the sides, fastened at the back of the head. A subtle groove along the nose bridge ensures the mask stays in place, preventing it from slipping. This clever combination of ties and structural support allowed wearers to move freely without fear of their masks falling off. Masks in Ancient China While some might associate such masks with Western traditions, China boasts a long history of intricate mask-making, dating back to the Shang and Zhou dynasties. The most iconic examples come from the Sanxingdui and Jinsha archaeological sites, where gold and bronze masks were unearthed. These masks, often depicting…

In the historical drama Sijin (似锦), actress Jing Tian (景甜) has been spotted wearing the same hairstyle repeatedly, with only minor changes in accessories. This has sparked a wave of online commentary, with fans jokingly asking, “Is this hairstyle permanently glued to her head?” But what is the story behind this iconic look, and why has it become such a staple in Chinese historical dramas? The Origins of the Double-Ring Immortal Chignon The hairstyle in question is known as the shuanghuan Wangxian ji (双鬟望仙髻), or “Double-Ring Immortal Chignon.” It evolved from the simpler Shuanghuan ji (双环髻), a traditional hairstyle for young girls. Over time, its ethereal beauty made it a favorite in depictions of celestial beings and noblewomen, earning it a place in classical Chinese art and literature. For instance, the Admonitions of the Nymph of the Luo River (洛神赋图) and the Eighty-Seven Immortals Scroll (八十七神仙卷) both feature this hairstyle, cementing its association with grace and divinity. Its popularity in art and culture has made it a timeless choice for characters who embody elegance and otherworldly charm. A Hairstyle Through the Ages The Double-Ring Immortal Chignon has undergone several transformations throughout history. During the Wei, Jin, and Southern and Northern…