Podcasts about Sichuan

Last time we spoke about the Japanese offensive at Changsha. In late September 1941, fighting in China had become a brutal struggle of endurance. Japanese forces kept pushing forward, but China—though battered by heavy losses—refused to yield. Help from abroad was slowly beginning to matter. American aid reached China through groups like the Red Cross, and volunteers later associated with the Flying Tigers offered crucial support to Chinese operations. Against this backdrop, Changsha in Hunan became the center of a dangerous autumn campaign. Chiang Kai-shek and the Nationalist leadership treated the city as strategically vital, knowing that its fate could influence the wider course of the war. In the end, the resistance at Changsha showed China's key advantage: resilience. The city's defense helped slow the Japanese advance, break up momentum, and create uncertainty as the campaign continued.   #212 The Autumn Battle of Changsha, 1941 Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. In late September 1941, the war in China had already entered its fifth year. By then the conflict had lost whatever remained of novelty and had settled into something harsher and more exhausting: a long war of attrition fought across enormous distances, under conditions of chronic shortage, strategic uncertainty, and repeated local catastrophe. Japan still possessed formidable military strength. Its armies could strike hard, move fast, and exploit superior firepower, air support, and communications in individual campaigns. Yet the larger shape of the war had begun to change. China had not collapsed. The Nationalist government still stood. Chinese armies, however battered, still held the field. The line between survival and defeat remained dangerously thin, but it had not broken. This was the situation in which the autumn campaign in Hunan and Hubei unfolded.   The struggle around Changsha did not occur in isolation. It belonged to a wider military and political moment. In Europe, the war had already expanded into a continent-wide convulsion. Germany and the Soviet Union were locked in a massive struggle after the German invasion in June. Leningrad was under threat, Kiev had become the scene of disaster, and the approach of the battle for Moscow suggested that still greater bloodshed lay ahead. Stalin had pressed Churchill to open a second front in Europe and had been refused. The global balance of war was shifting, but not yet in any way that guaranteed relief to China.   In Asia, Japan continued to press forward. The pressure on China remained immense. Yet by mid-1941 China's position, though still precarious, no longer looked quite as desperate as it had in earlier years. International sympathy had grown. Material aid, however limited, was beginning to take more concrete form. In July, the American Red Cross sent China medical supplies worth millions of dollars. In August, more than a hundred retired American pilots and mechanics came together to aid China against Japan. The air unit they formed, later celebrated as the Flying Tigers, meant more than aircraft and personnel alone. It signaled that China's war was no longer quite so isolated. That change in atmosphere did not produce calm in Chongqing. It sharpened urgency.   For Chiang Kai-shek, the possibility that the international situation might slowly improve for China carried with it a hard implication: China had to endure long enough to benefit from it. That meant surviving not in abstract terms, but in particular places, against particular offensives, at moments when a local defeat might have consequences far beyond the immediate battlefield. In the autumn of 1941, one of those places was Changsha. Changsha had long occupied an outsized place in the military geography of the war. It stood as the capital of Hunan, a hinge between regions, and a vital position in the defense of central China. Its security affected the Xiang River basin, communications across the province, and the broader defensive posture shielding approaches toward the wartime capital. To lose it, even temporarily, would be more than a symbolic blow. It would threaten the larger balance of the front in south-central China and test whether Japanese offensives could still force dramatic strategic results.   At the same time, the battle for Changsha was not a simple contest between one Chinese army and one Japanese army facing each other across a fixed line. It was part of a larger operational struggle linking the Ninth War Zone with supporting actions from the Third, Fifth, and Sixth War Zones. It involved frontal resistance, hurried reinforcement, mobile defense, rear harassment, and the constant effort to turn Japanese momentum into Japanese overextension. Chinese commanders were trying not merely to survive a blow, but to absorb it, stretch it, and eventually strike back against an enemy whose speed could become a liability once supply lines lengthened and formations dispersed. This was the burden resting on the Military Commission in Chongqing.   There, while reports arrived in fragments and maps were revised hour by hour, Chiang Kai-shek spent long stretches in the operations room watching the situation in Hunan and Hubei develop. He had already ordered the various war zones to support the Ninth War Zone's operations, and now he followed the campaign with intense concentration. His attention moved repeatedly toward reports from the Sixth War Zone and Chen Cheng's counteroffensive toward Yichang, for Yichang was tied not only to local fighting in Hubei but also to the defense of the Yangtze approach and therefore to the security of Chongqing itself. In his mind, Hunan and Hubei had become the focal point of China's war effort in that season.   Meanwhile at the front, the situation was deteriorating fast. Japanese forces pressing into northern Hunan had already imposed severe strain on the Chinese defense. Blocking units had been battered back. Communications were uncertain. Some formations fought stubbornly but could not hold; others dissolved more quickly than hoped. The Japanese advance toward Changsha created exactly the kind of crisis Chinese commanders feared most: one in which the enemy moved with enough force and speed to threaten a major city before a coherent defensive response could be reassembled. Chinese units had to be thrown into action as they arrived, often after exhausting marches, often with incomplete knowledge of the situation, and often under immediate pressure from artillery, aircraft, and aggressive infantry assaults. Yet even at this dangerous stage, the campaign contained an opportunity as well as a threat.   The deeper Japanese units pushed into Hunan, the more exposed their rear became. Supply depots, transport lines, and communications stretched farther behind the spearhead. Chinese formations that had been driven aside were not always destroyed; some remained capable of reappearing to strike roads, depots, and isolated detachments. If Changsha represented the visible center of the struggle, the enemy rear represented its hidden vulnerability. The Chinese aim, therefore, was not simply to defend passively around the city. It was to combine stubborn resistance in front with harassment and disruption behind, so that Japanese advance would become increasingly difficult to sustain. The battle that followed unfolded under these pressures: a threatened city, a strained but unbroken defense, commanders forced to improvise under severe danger, and a wider international war that made every local decision feel heavier than the ground on which it was taken.   This subtle improvement in China's larger situation did not mean safety. China was still battered, under-resourced, and vulnerable. Japanese forces still possessed enormous advantages in mobility, firepower, and air power in many sectors. Large parts of the country remained occupied or threatened. Yet by mid-1941 something in the atmosphere had changed. In July, the American Red Cross sent China medical supplies worth millions of dollars. In August, more than a hundred retired American pilots and mechanics came together to aid China in its struggle against Japan. The air unit they formed would become famous under the name by which China knew them: the Flying Tigers. Their significance exceeded their immediate tactical value. They represented a visible sign that China was not entirely abandoned to isolation.   For Claire Chennault, romantic, aggressive, and optimistic by temperament, the new situation encouraged increasingly bold thoughts. For the first time he included in his planning the idea that Japanese home territory might one day be bombed from bases in China. Such schemes were ambitious and perhaps premature, but their very existence reveals an altered horizon of possibility. A country that imagines striking back is already psychologically in a different position from one concerned only with preventing collapse.     Yichang mattered directly to the fighting in Xiangbei, but it also mattered independently. It was tied to the security of the Yangtze approach and therefore to the defense of Chongqing. It belonged not only to the immediate problem of battlefield maneuver but to the larger question of whether China could do more than absorb Japanese offensives. Could Chinese forces exploit enemy overstretch? Could Japanese advances be turned into liabilities? Could local counterattacks and rear harassment generate effects greater than the raw size of the forces involved? By September 1941, these questions were no longer hypothetical. They were urgent. In Chiang's mind, Hunan and Hubei had become the focal point of China's war effort in that season.   The struggle around Changsha was central to that effort. From Chongqing, Chiang telegraphed Commander Xue Yue of the Ninth War Zone with instructions that made both the danger and the opportunity plain. The message emphasized that the enemy in northern Hunan, though still pressing hard, had already been bravely intercepted by Chinese units and was now exhausted, with lines of advance increasingly difficult to sustain. This, Chiang argued, created an excellent opportunity for Chinese forces to strike at the enemy's rear and seek annihilation rather than mere delay. He urged officers and soldiers alike to remain determined to destroy the enemy. Even if Japanese troops advanced to the vicinity of Changsha itself, Chinese forces were to renew their efforts, maintain their confidence in victory, and prevent the enemy from establishing a foothold.   The telegram also pointed to the broader operational picture. Japanese troops drawn from the sectors of the Fifth and Sixth War Zones had been committed to the invasion of northern Hunan, leaving their rear areas dangerously exposed. The Third, Fifth, and Sixth War Zones had launched supporting offensives on the twenty-third. Therefore, the Ninth War Zone had to strike resolutely and fiercely, preventing the Japanese from coordinating their forces and frustrating any attempt to occupy Changsha. The message was at once exhortation and operational logic. It reflected the core Chinese problem in the campaign: the Japanese thrust was dangerous and had to be blocked, but the very speed and depth of that thrust could also expose the attacker. Yet by the time Chiang sent his instructions, the danger around Changsha was already severe. After the 74th Army had been beaten back, there was no major Chinese force north of the city that could confidently block the Japanese advance in a straightforward, stable line. The Japanese 4th Division, together with the Hayabuchi Detachment, had defeated the 95th Division of the Chinese 37th Army and pushed toward Changsha. The prospect that the city might fall, at least temporarily, was no longer remote.   In response, Xia Chuzhong's 79th Army from the Sixth War Zone was ordered to move toward the city. Its vanguard was Wang Jiaben's 98th Division. That movement was a forced march in the literal sense. It was not a flourish of language but an admission of emergency. Troops were pushed beyond ordinary endurance because there was no time to gather strength under favorable conditions. Changsha could not wait for convenience, rest, or ideal concentration. Either reinforcements arrived in time to fight immediately, or they arrived too late to matter. Wang Jiaben was no stranger to battle. A veteran officer from the Yunnan Army, he had fought the Japanese repeatedly—more than twenty times since the outbreak of the War of Resistance. He belonged to that generation of commanders who had been shaped by the fragmented military politics of Republican China but whose careers were now being rewritten by the national emergency of the anti-Japanese war.   During the First Battle of Changsha, he had already distinguished himself. He led troops in a counterattack along the Tongcheng line in southern Hubei and intercepted retreating Japanese forces at Longmenchang and Changshoujie, killing more than a thousand enemy soldiers. He had experience, reputation, and a sense of what it meant to fight in the Changsha theater. This time he marched from Changde, driving his division forward with all possible speed. By noon on September 26 the 98th Division reached a position about two kilometers northeast of Changsha. There was scarcely time to settle the men. No careful preparation was possible. They had arrived because the city was in danger, and battle began almost at once. At dusk the division engaged the Hayabuchi Detachment.   The fighting continued until late in the night without decisive result. That in itself was costly enough. Troops who have just completed a punishing march are already close to the limits of their endurance. To be thrown immediately into combat magnifies every weakness: thirst, fatigue, confusion, and the difficulty of building fieldworks under pressure. What the soldiers of the 98th Division could do that night, they did with their hands and whatever tools they had. They scraped positions out of the earth. They assembled makeshift cover. Officers moved along the line trying to impose order on terrain that had become a battlefield almost as soon as it was occupied. At dawn on September 27 the Japanese intensified the pressure from the air.   More than twenty aircraft bombed the 98th Division's positions, tearing apart the earthworks that officers and soldiers had spent the night constructing. Bombing had a double effect. Physically, it damaged positions, wounded men, and disrupted preparations. Psychologically, it reminded defenders that they were being observed from above and struck by an enemy against whom they could often do little in the sky. Immediately after the bombing came a fierce infantry assault. Wang Jiaben and several other commanders went down to their respective regiments to supervise the fighting personally. This was dangerous, but under such circumstances commanders often believed that presence itself mattered. When fieldworks are collapsing, shell bursts are continuous, and communications are unreliable, authority must sometimes be carried by a body rather than a wire. The defenders held.   Again and again the Japanese attacked. Again and again they were repulsed only to reorganize and come on once more. Every minute the Chinese line remained in place was bought with blood. Fallen and wounded men were carried rearward in what seemed an endless stream. The cost of resistance accumulated visibly before the eyes of those still fighting. By noon even water could no longer be delivered to the front. That detail reveals the intensity of the battle more clearly than many grander statements could. A line that cannot be supplied even with water has reached a condition of severe strain. During brief pauses in the fighting, officers and soldiers pulled out dry rations and chewed them slowly, swallowing with difficulty while they waited for the next attack. Such moments are among the most characteristic in battle: not the long, smooth continuity imagined in peacetime rhetoric, but brief interludes of miserable necessity between explosions. At two in the afternoon the crisis deepened sharply.   A unit of the Japanese 4th Division worked its way behind the 98th Division's position and attacked from the rear. This was the kind of tactical development every defending commander dreads. A force can endure heavy frontal pressure if its line remains coherent and its rear reasonably secure. But when enemy troops appear behind a position, the entire structure of defense begins to dissolve. There, behind the line, were more than a hundred Chinese wounded awaiting evacuation. Japanese soldiers attacked them with bayonets. One of the wounded Chinese soldiers, already beyond ordinary capacity for resistance, rushed forward and detonated a grenade against a Japanese attacker. It was an act of desperation, but also of defiance. The episode captures something essential about the tone of the battle around Changsha. This was not a neat engagement between organized lines alone. It was a desperate collision in which even the badly wounded were drawn into last resistance. For Wang Jiaben, however, the tactical reality was impossible to deny. If he stayed where he was, the division might be annihilated. Personal courage could not alter encirclement. Resentfully, bitterly, and under the kind of pressure that leaves permanent scars on a commander's memory, he ordered retreat. When he led the survivors off the battlefield, fewer than half his men remained.   Reinforcements from another direction now entered the struggle. The Provisional 2nd Army of the Seventh War Zone dispatched the Provisional 8th Division under Zhang Junsong. At seven in the evening on September 27, Zhang's force arrived at Zuojiatang on the eastern outskirts of Changsha. Personnel of the Ninth War Zone waiting there reported grim news: a Japanese detachment had already entered the city that afternoon, and another detachment was only three kilometers away. The situation invited rashness. A commander arriving near a threatened city at dusk, with reports that the enemy is already inside, may feel compelled to hurl troops forward immediately in a gesture of resolution. Yet night fighting in an urban approach without adequate reconnaissance can turn courage into waste. Zhang Junsong considered the matter carefully. He concluded that to rush blindly into the city at night would likely produce confusion and heavy losses. Instead he first sought to strike the enemy outside the city. His troops deployed quietly and crept forward through the darkness, launching a probing attack. But they soon discovered that the Japanese were fully prepared and not vulnerable to easy surprise. The line could not be broken. With no prospect of success, the force withdrew.   The moment is revealing because it shows how narrow the margin had become. Chinese commanders were trying to recover initiative while still groping through uncertainty. Reports were incomplete, Japanese dispositions difficult to fix, and every hour dangerous. On the evening of September 28, the 79th Army's 6th Provisional Division occupied Yuelu Mountain west of Changsha. From that height officers and soldiers looked across the Xiang River toward the city. Changsha, for the first time, was in Japanese hands. The emotional force of that sight can only be imagined. Changsha had lived for years under threat. It had been defended, contested, prepared, and feared. The possibility of its loss had hovered over military planning and public consciousness alike. Now the danger had become fact. A city that had stood as an object of effort and anxiety was visibly occupied by the enemy. No single feeling could have governed the men who saw it. There must have been anger, shame, weariness, and dread—but also stubbornness. For in war a city seen in enemy hands is not always simply lost. Sometimes it is a summons.   Late that night Zhao Jiping, commander of the 6th Provisional Division, received a telegram from Xue Yue. He read it and then stood before the map for a long time. Days of anxiety began to lift. He was not alone in that reaction. Many Chinese generals involved in the campaign had felt that they were fighting a confused and chaotic battle. Japanese movements had been broad, rapid, and difficult to pin down. The Ninth War Zone had thrown numerous units into blocking actions, yet both well-regarded formations and weaker, improvised units had repeatedly failed to hold. After ten days of combat, Chinese losses were heavy. But Japanese forces too had been worn, stretched, and damaged. Only now, as the Japanese reached the apparent culmination of their advance, did the Ninth War Zone begin to recover rhythm. Chaos did not disappear, but it became more legible. The possibility of a more ordered counteroffensive emerged.   In the early hours of September 29, Zhao Jiping issued the order to force a crossing of the Xiang River and attack the enemy in Changsha. The preparations consumed the entire day. River crossings under combat conditions are among the most delicate operations in war. Boats must be assembled or found. Units must be organized into waves. Timing matters. Surprise matters. The location of landing points matters. The men themselves matter most of all, because they must sit exposed in fragile craft knowing that the real test will begin not in the middle of the river but at the far bank. Late that night the division crossed secretly by boat in six groups. The crossing itself went well enough. The river did not betray them. The groups made progress in darkness. Yet everyone involved understood that smooth movement on the water did not guarantee success. The crucial question was what waited at the landing points. It was expected that the troops going ashore at Daximen would be first to meet the Japanese. Once battle began there, the rest of the crossing accelerated.   Chinese soldiers landed, attacked fiercely, and drove the enemy back from the riverbank. The momentum of the assault mattered. In such moments hesitation on shore can doom an entire crossing, but aggression can seize a foothold before the defender fully stabilizes. By the time Chinese forces entered the city, dawn was breaking. Then came street fighting. Changsha had ceased to be an objective on a map. It became again what cities become in war: a place of corners, walls, alleys, debris, smoke, and sudden death. Fighting in a city strips away much of the abstraction through which campaigns are often remembered. Streets channel movement. Buildings become cover, obstacles, or traps. Distances shrink but danger multiplies. A few men behind masonry can delay many more. Noise magnifies confusion. The city itself seems to fragment into a hundred separate battlefields. For Changsha, the long season of anxious anticipation ended in direct flame.   Yet to understand the campaign only through the struggle at Changsha would be incomplete. While the city drew attention as the central prize, another set of operations was unfolding across Hunan and Hubei—less dramatic in appearance perhaps, but strategically significant. These were the actions of the 27th Army Group under Yang Sen. If the fighting around Changsha demonstrated the pressure of frontal battle, Yang Sen's operations illustrated another principle entirely: the stubborn, opportunistic use of weaker forces to harass, sting, and trouble a stronger enemy from behind. The 27th Army Group was composed largely of Sichuan troops. Their presence speaks to one of the larger political transformations of the war. Republican China had long been fractured by regional militarism. Armies had often owed stronger loyalty to commanders, provinces, or local power structures than to any unified national command. Yet the anti-Japanese war compelled a partial reordering of those loyalties. Many warlord forces, however imperfectly integrated, now turned their weapons outward under Nationalist command.   There were exceptions. Some men, like Han Fuqu, had preserved their own strength at the cost of military responsibility and lost both opportunity and honor in doing so. But in the main, especially among middle and lower-ranking officers and ordinary soldiers, the imperative of national survival overrode provincial identity. Men from distant regions marched and fought in terrains not their own because the war no longer permitted a narrow conception of interest. Yang Sen himself was an old warlord soldier, one of those figures formed in the fractured military world of earlier decades. By 1941 he was deputy commander of the Ninth War Zone and commander-in-chief of the 27th Army Group. Along the Hunan-Hubei-Jiangxi border he had long been cautious in his operations.   At the beginning of the northern Hunan battle, his troops proved unable to withstand the force of the Japanese offensive and retreated in disorder into mountains and forests. That fact should not be softened. They were pushed back. But retreat did not mean disappearance. This is where Yang Sen's role became important. Once the main Japanese force had advanced far ahead, the troops that had scattered began to reemerge. They knew the terrain. They knew the roads, villages, passes, and wooded approaches. If they could not defeat the Japanese in a grand collision, they could search for openings behind the advancing columns.   On September 20, as the Japanese main force drove into the heart of northern Hunan, Yang Sen led elements of the 4th, 58th, and 20th Armies in pursuit for an entire day. The main body of the 4th Army had already been badly beaten at the Xinqiang River line, and only the 60th Division, recently transferred from the 37th Army, remained relatively intact. That single fact sharply defined the weakness of his means. He was not pursuing with fresh and powerful forces prepared for a decisive encounter. He was pursuing with fragments, survivors, and such units as still retained some offensive potential. But the Japanese, intent on rapid advance southward, paid too little attention to what followed behind them. That was the opening Yang Sen needed.   On the morning of September 21, the 60th Division acted on information supplied by an old beggar. Such details often sound almost literary, but they remind us that war in China was never fought by armies alone. Villagers, refugees, peddlers, guides, boatmen, and the destitute all participated in the circulation of military knowledge. A beggar could see what a reconnaissance officer had missed. On the basis of that tip, the 60th Division launched a surprise attack on the supply depot of the Japanese 40th Division at Zhangjiayuan. Division Commander Dong Yu led the action.   The Chinese quickly overwhelmed the more than three hundred Japanese troops guarding the depot. Once they broke in, they discovered an astonishing quantity of matériel: shell boxes, ammunition, food, medicine, gasoline, explosives, protective clothing, telephone wire, body bags, stretchers, and more, all stacked beneath heavy canvas. For men accustomed to scarcity, it must have seemed almost unreal. Dong Yu, delighted, is remembered as exclaiming to his deputy commander, "It's practically a department store!" The line has a momentary comic brightness in the middle of war, and that is part of why it survives. But its deeper significance lies in what it reveals. A modern army advancing deep into hostile territory is sustained by accumulation—ammunition, fuel, wire, medicines, rations, transport materials. To seize such a depot is not merely to take objects. It is to grasp the hidden skeleton of movement. Dong Yu then issued a one-word order: "Move."   At once the whole division became a swarm of carriers. Officers and soldiers grabbed whatever they could and began hauling the captured supplies away. The scene must have been one of extraordinary improvised energy—riflemen transformed into laborers, war reduced for a moment to the brute physical act of lifting, dragging, and carrying. They moved like ants dismantling a storehouse. But there was too much to remove and too little time. Before even two regiments had completed the work, the Japanese returned in force. Enraged, they sent more than a dozen aircraft to bomb the troops carrying off the captured crates, while over a thousand infantrymen rushed in on the ground. Dong Yu immediately ordered the men to abandon what remained and destroy it. Amid deafening explosions, the 60th Division withdrew from Zhangjiayuan. The Japanese pursued hard, driving them back into the mountains before finally stopping. Measured purely in terms of territorial occupation, the action changed little. The Chinese did not hold the depot. They were forced back again. But judged in operational terms, the raid mattered. Supplies had been captured, destroyed, or disrupted. Japanese rear security had been embarrassed. Time and energy had been consumed in response. In a campaign where the Japanese were racing south and depending increasingly on stretched lines, such harassment was not trivial.   After September 23, Yang Sen expanded these efforts. He sent whole divisions to harass the Japanese rear while also dispatching battalions and companies to ambush supply columns and disrupt transport lines. This was not the kind of warfare that produces neat dramatic maps in conventional military histories. The actions were scattered, local, opportunistic, and often inconclusive. Yet precisely for that reason they can be misunderstood. Not every useful military action ends in the destruction of an enemy division. Sometimes its value lies in forcing a stronger opponent to spend attention where he had hoped to spend only momentum. These operations were costly and uncertain. Small Chinese units striking roads and depots risked encirclement or aerial punishment. Yet they possessed one advantage: they did not need to win a grand battle to matter. They needed only to make movement harder, supply more precarious, and the rear less secure.   On September 25, even after the 26th and 37th Armies had suffered defeat elsewhere, Yang Sen gathered the troops that still retained some offensive capacity and launched another attack. In these actions, the 90th Division captured Wukou; the 59th Division reached the north bank of the Miluo River; the 60th Division advanced to Donggang; and elements of the 58th Army controlled the Yuanba–Zheyangqiao highway line by the twenty-sixth. These gains were not the dramatic centerpiece of the campaign. But they formed part of the cumulative pressure on Japanese operations. Every road contested from the rear, every convoy threatened, every depot exposed, and every forced diversion of troops weakened the enemy's ability to convert tactical advance into stable success.   The battlefield was fluid enough that Yang Sen's headquarters itself had to keep moving—from the Miluo River northward to Pingjiang. Mobile headquarters in such conditions lived under constant uncertainty. Reports arrived late or contradictory. Rumors outran facts. The front could bend in unpredictable ways. A command post that seemed safely behind the line in the morning might by afternoon lie only a few kilometers from enemy forces. Years later Mao Jiuyin, who had then served as an operations staff officer under Yang Sen, recalled the old commander's outward behavior in those dangerous days. Yang Sen, Mao remembered, was always joking with the people around him and could still laugh and talk during battle. On one occasion he even joked with his bodyguard about putting chili oil in his tea. To younger staff officers, such behavior appeared almost absurd.   Yet they knew how dangerous their situation often was. Sometimes they were only a few kilometers from the main Japanese forces. There is more than anecdote in this memory. Old commanders often cultivated a style of ease under danger not because they felt no fear, but because they believed visible calm itself was part of command. Men take emotional bearings from those above them. A commander who panics spreads panic faster than any enemy breakthrough. Yang Sen was sixty years old during the Second Battle of Changsha, and he liked to remark that he was five years older than Chiang Kai-shek. Age had not removed him from the front. His function in the campaign was not to shatter the enemy in one decisive frontal blow. It was to persist, reappear, sting, and remain troublesome. The 27th Army Group followed the Japanese nearly all the way to the outskirts of Changsha.   They did not fight many large set-piece engagements. That was never their main value. But the Japanese could not ignore them. If Japanese units turned and tried to hit them directly, they tended to dissolve into the landscape. If the Japanese pushed on and ignored them, they reappeared to sabotage roads, hit supply lines, and create alarms in the rear. Even Japanese official histories later described them memorably. They called them "like a swarm of annoying flies." The phrase was meant as contempt. But as so often happens in war, an insult became an accurate description of effect. If these Chinese troops could not be tigers in formal battle, they could still become intolerable as flies. And under certain conditions—fatigue, heat, uncertainty, stretched supply, shaken morale—flies can become more oppressive than an enemy would like to admit.   When later generations look back on campaigns, they often search for a single explanatory image. But the fighting of September 1941 resists reduction to one symbol alone. What gives the campaign its force in memory is not one isolated episode, but the convergence of several pressures at once: a city under threat, a command trying to coordinate multiple fronts, exhausted reinforcements thrown directly into battle, Japanese forces advancing quickly but becoming increasingly vulnerable the farther they pushed, and Chinese troops in the rear refusing to disappear after defeat. Seen from Chongqing, the campaign was a matter of telegrams, maps, and the management of strategic risk. Seen from the front, it was a matter of thirst, mud, broken fieldworks, sudden bombing, exhausted marching, and the uncertainty of whether the next order meant reinforcement, retreat, or death. Seen from the Japanese side, it was initially an aggressive advance toward an important objective, but one increasingly troubled by stretched supply, difficult terrain, and the persistent reappearance of Chinese forces behind the line of movement.   At the same time, the campaign reveals a Chinese war effort that had become more resilient than in the earliest years of the conflict. The Japanese advance toward Changsha was dangerous and at moments appeared close to success. Chinese blocking forces suffered severe defeats. Units arrived exhausted and were hurled into action at once. Commanders lost men at devastating rates. Changsha itself briefly fell into enemy hands. And yet the city was not simply surrendered as an accomplished fact. Chinese forces regrouped. Orders were coordinated across war zones. Reinforcements marched at desperate speed. Counterattacks were mounted. Forces west of the Xiang prepared and crossed back into the city. Elsewhere, troops under Yang Sen gnawed at the Japanese rear and made advance more costly than a map of front lines alone might suggest. This combination of desperate frontal resistance and incessant rear harassment was one of the characteristic strengths of China's resistance in this stage of the war. China could not always match Japanese power in one concentrated blow. But it could absorb, delay, fragment, and trouble that power across space and time. That is why the struggle around Changsha in late September 1941 deserves to be remembered not merely as a sequence of engagements, but as a layered event in which tactical battle, morale, logistics, political endurance, and international context all converged.   I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. In late September 1941, Japan pushed deeper into China, but Chinese forces—supported gradually by international help—kept resisting. Changsha in Hunan became the central point of the conflict, seen as vital to strategic control in south-central China. Meanwhile, elsewhere in Hunan and Hubei, Yang Sen's 27th Army Group—often using smaller, opportunistic actions—reappeared behind Japanese lines to disrupt depots and convoys. Even when Chinese gains were temporary, the cumulative pressure delayed Japanese momentum.       

This week on Sinica, a rare treat: an in-person recording from Beijing with two dear friends who happen to be two of the very best in the business on technology and China — Samm Sacks and Paul Triolo, fresh off the exhibition floor of the World Artificial Intelligence Conference in Shanghai. We dig into Xi Jinping's first in-person WAIC appearance and his most extensive statement on AI to date, the launch of the World AI Cooperation Organization, Moonshot's release of Kimi K3, the Trump administration's reported push to shut Chinese open-weight models out of the U.S. market, the coming age of agents, the untranslatable problem of ānquán, and what to expect from the first U.S.-China AI dialogue in September.8:51 – The view from the floor: heat, humidity, robot boxing grandmas, WeChat-gated free water, and the "AI+" vibe — why WAIC 2026 felt less like an AI conference than a sector-by-sector snapshot of China's entire economy being supercharged with AI, with attendance swelling to some 200,000 tickets16:32 – Why Xi showed up: what the leader's first in-person WAIC appearance and his most extensive AI statement to date signal, and why domestic drivers matter as much as geopolitics18:01 – Chapter and verse: which phrases from the speech will be put to work in the system — "secure and orderly development" and the governance of agents, and Xi's strikingly extensive language on AI safety after China was frozen out of the Paris process22:26 – The ānquán problem: one word meaning both "safety" and "security," the three buckets of AI risk, and how China's safety community has moved from bias and deepfakes toward CBRN and loss-of-control concerns — Black Mirror versus Star Trek28:14 – Shanghai's baby: how WAIC's ownership structure differs from the CAC-run World Internet Conference in Wuzhen, Chen Jining's very visible host duties, and whether the center of gravity in AI policy is shifting to the Yangtze River Delta30:05 – WAICO: what the new World AI Cooperation Organization with its 29 founding members is actually for, Xi's concrete deliverables for the Global South — 5,000 AI training slots, regional cooperation centers, the MAZU early-warning system — and healthy skepticism about follow-through34:39 – Kimi K3: what's technically significant in Moonshot's big new model, why it's the fourth arguably frontier-class Chinese release in a single month, the two-way traffic in distillation accusations, and what it all says about the state of the frontier gap four years into export controls40:33 – Washington reacts: the reported menu of options for shutting Chinese open-weight models out of the U.S. — entity listings, a draft executive order, supply-chain security authorities — and why none of the tools actually fit the problem49:36 – Strange bedfellows: David Sacks versus the "closed lab duopoly," the FUD strategy, why some 80% of Andreessen Horowitz portfolio companies reportedly run on Chinese open models, and how gating U.S. frontier models while Chinese weights flow freely supercharges the AI sovereignty argument worldwide54:55 – The model is infrastructure, the agent is the product: the ByteDance–ZTE agentic phone, the CAC's new initiative on agent trust and interoperability, and why agents fused into operating systems upend both super-app walled gardens and China's data protection regime1:02:27 – An exegesis of kěkòng: the many meanings of "controllable," the long history of ānquán kěkòng in Chinese tech policy, and the unanswered question of who — CAC, NDRC, or somebody new — actually owns AI safety in either system1:08:54 – The road to September: what to expect from the first U.S.-China AI dialogue, why Mythos tops the Chinese grievance list, the securitization feedback loop that starves trust-and-safety advocates of resources on both sides, and why recursive self-improvement makes this feel like a last, best chancePaying It ForwardPaul nominates Tony Peng, whose Substack RecodeChinaAI offers sharp, well-written analysis of the application side of China's AI industry — part of an impressive new generation of independent China tech writers. Samm gives a shout-out to Professor Zhu Yue of Tongji University Law School, published in Science and doing pioneering work at the intersection of disability law and AI law.RecommendationsSamm: The Land and Its People by David Sedaris — laugh-out-loud funny, especially the "Enough is Enough" chapter; Transcription by Ben Lerner, a perfect small novel about fathers, sons, memory, and technology as enabler or disabler of connection; and Didion and Babitz, on Joan Didion and Eve Babitz and the 1970s California rock scene.Paul: The Party's Interests Come First by Joseph Torigian — dense but beautifully written, and essential for understanding the current Chinese leadership.Kaiser: A fiction-only summer! Stoner by John Williams, a small life told most grandly in some of the most beautiful sentence-level writing anywhere; Gilead by Marilynne Robinson, an epistolary novel dense with distilled wisdom from a dying Iowa minister; and Wang Xiaobo's The Golden Age (黄金时代) in Yan Yan's excellent new translation — bawdy, hilarious, and super Beijing-y despite its Cultural Revolution setting.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

In 2008, artist and activist Ai Weiwei clashed with the Chinese government over its response to the deadly Sichuan earthquake. The government had censored information about the death toll, so Ai Weiwei launched a citizen's investigation, knocking on doors and visiting villages to learn the names of the thousands of children who died. More recently, the artist has also become critical of political censorship in the United States. In today's episode, he joins Here & Now's Scott Tong for a conversation about his new book On Censorship, a critique of censorship under both democratic and authoritarian governments.To listen to Book of the Day sponsor-free and support NPR's book coverage, sign up for Book of the Day+ at plus.npr.org/bookofthedaySee pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for sponsorship and to manage your podcast sponsorship preferences.NPR Privacy Policy

High temperatures forecast in large parts of China in the next few days未来数日，我国大范围区域将迎来高温天气China's health and weather authorities issued nationwide heat health alerts on Monday as an unusually warm and humid flood season fuels widespread heat across much of the country, with temperatures forecast to exceed 40 C in some areas over the coming days.受汛期异常闷热潮湿的气候影响，国内多地大范围遭遇酷暑，国家卫健与气象主管部门于周一发布全国高温健康预警，预计未来部分地区气温将突破40摄氏度。Since the start of the annual flood season, China has experienced a markedly warm and humid weather pattern.自本年度汛期开启以来，我国整体气候呈现出显著高温高湿的特征。The national average temperature reached 17.5 C, 0.9 C above normal and the third-highest for the period since 1961, while average precipitation stood at 264.2 millimeters, 6.1 percent above normal, according to Chen Lijuan from the National Climate Center.国家气候中心专家陈丽娟介绍，全国平均气温达到17.5摄氏度，较常年同期偏高0.9℃，为1961年以来同期第三高温；全国平均降水量264.2毫米，相较常年均值多出6.1%。The National Disease Control and Prevention Administration and the China Meteorological Administration jointly issued a heat health risk alert on Monday evening, warning that conditions ranging from relatively high to extremely high health risks would affect much of China between Monday night and Tuesday night.国家疾控局与中国气象局在周一晚间联合发布高温健康风险预警，警示周一夜间至周二晚间，国内大部分区域将会面临中高乃至极高等级的高温健康隐患。The highest red-level alert was issued for parts of Hubei province, Chongqing and the Inner Mongolia autonomous region.湖北局部、重庆以及内蒙古自治区部分地区已经发布最高等级的红色高温预警。Authorities urged residents to stay indoors in cool environments, avoid outdoor activities during peak heat hours and drink enough water.官方呼吁市民尽量待在阴凉的室内环境，避开一天中的高温峰值时段外出活动，同时及时补充饮水。Vulnerable groups, including people with chronic illnesses, were advised to pay close attention to their health and seek medical assistance if necessary.相关部门建议慢性病患者等易感人群密切监测自身身体状况，身体不适时及时就医。The National Meteorological Center, on Tuesday, renewed a yellow alert for high temperatures, forecasting highs of 35 C to 36 C across large parts of the country, with temperatures in parts of southwestern Chongqing expected to exceed 40 C.国家气象中心于周二继续发布高温黄色预警，预报国内多数地区最高气温维持在35至36摄氏度，西南重镇重庆的局部区域气温将突破40℃。Chen Tao, chief forecaster at the National Meteorological Center, said that after Tropical Storm Bavi moved northward, the subtropical high-pressure system strengthened and gradually merged with continental high pressure, creating conditions for intensifying heat across areas including the Sichuan Basin and the Jianghan Plain in Hubei.国家气象中心首席预报员陈涛表示，巴威热带风暴北上过后，副热带高压不断增强，并逐步和大陆高压合体，促使四川盆地、湖北江汉平原等地的高温天气持续加剧。"The latest round of heat in southern China is expected to last four to five days, until around July 18," he said.他称，本轮华南高温天气预计将会持续四至五天，大概在7月18日前后才会缓解。Chongqing authorities have stepped up heat protection measures for residents, workers and animals.重庆各地主管部门已经加码落实针对市民、户外劳动者以及动植物的防暑保障工作。The city's housing department has ordered construction companies to suspend all outdoor work when the daily maximum temperature reaches 40 C or above to ensure workplace safety.当地住建部门规定，日最高气温达到40℃及以上时，施工企业必须全面叫停室外作业，保障务工人员的人身安全。The city has also opened 44 underground civil air defense facilities as free cooling shelters since July 5. Operating daily from 10 am to 9 pm, the shelters provide drinking water, seating and heat-relief supplies.自7月5日起，重庆开放44处人防地下空间作为免费纳凉点。纳凉点每日上午10点至晚间9点对外开放，免费提供饮用水、休息座位以及各类防暑物资。At Locajoy Theme Park's Wildlife World in Yongchuan district, animals from cooler high-altitude regions of Eurasia and the Americas have received additional protection from the heat.在重庆乐和乐都野生动物世界里，来自欧亚、美洲高海拔寒凉地区的野生动物都配套了专项防暑方案。According to Liu Xiaolin, deputy general manager of the park's Wildlife World Division, the park has installed sunshades, misting systems and pools in animal enclosures, while air conditioning is provided for indoor animals such as giant pandas.园区野生动物板块副总经理刘晓琳介绍，园区在动物展区搭建遮阳棚、喷雾降温设备以及戏水水池；大熊猫等室内饲养动物还可以享受空调降温。The scorching temperatures have also disrupted travel plans. Lan Bin, a sophomore at Chongqing University, and her mother, who traveled from Zhejiang province to visit her, abandoned their daytime sightseeing plans after encountering temperatures above 40 C.酷热的气温同样打乱了出游计划。重庆大学大二学生蓝斌的母亲专程从浙江前来探望，二人因为四十多度的高温，放弃了白天外出游览的安排。Instead, they visited museums, watched Sichuan opera and enjoyed evening meals.二人转而选择逛博物馆、观看川剧，等到傍晚气温回落再出门就餐。Lan said the most practical way to cope with Chongqing's current heat is to stay indoors with air conditioning during the day and schedule outdoor activities after sunset.蓝斌表示，应对重庆酷暑最稳妥的办法就是白天待在空调房中，日落之后再安排户外活动。In Wuhan, capital of Hubei province, the heatwave has driven electricity demand to record levels. The city's power grid load reached a historic high of 18.11 million kilowatts at noon on Tuesday, exceeding last year's peak by 62,900 kW amid an orange heat alert.湖北省会武汉的热浪使得用电负荷创下新高。在高温橙色预警生效期间，周二正午当地电网负荷飙升至1811万千瓦，刷新历史纪录，相较去年用电峰值高出6.29万千瓦。The State Grid Wuhan Power Supply Company said 24 key projects designed to strengthen electricity supplies during the summer peak season have been completed to help meet rising household demand.国网武汉供电公司介绍，24项保障夏季用电高峰的重点工程已经全部竣工，以此承接持续上涨的居民用电需求。Local authorities have also reminded residents and businesses to guard against electrical fires caused by overloaded equipment during periods of heavy power consumption.当地部门同时提醒居民和各类商户，用电高峰期谨防设备负载过载，避免引发电气火灾。precipitation /prɪˌsɪpɪˈteɪʃn/降水量，降雨量vulnerable /ˈvʌlnərəbl/容易受到高温侵害的，体质偏弱的subtropical /ˌsʌbˈtrɒpɪkl/亚热带的scorching /ˈskɔːtʃɪŋ/极度炎热的enclosure /ɪnˈkləʊʒə(r)/动物饲养圈、围栏场地overload /ˌəʊvəˈləʊd/超负荷运转

CrossPolitic One-on-One — Show Notes: China Update with Missionary Ben On this episode of CrossPolitic One-on-One, the Waterboy sits down with Missionary Ben — host of China Compass on the Fight Laugh Feast Network and himself a deportee from China — for an update on the underground church. The conversation covers Pastor Ezra Jin's miraculous July 4th release from prison (and the eight still behind bars), the latest crackdown on Pastor Wang Yi's church network, how Christians should think about doing business with China, and what the American church can learn from brothers and sisters who are forced to make hard decisions for their faith every single day. Timestamps 03:35 — Intro — Fight Laugh Feast conference update and Business Makers Network 07:06 — Meet Missionary Ben — deported from China, host of China Compass 08:11 — Pastor Ezra Jin: from Tiananmen Square to Zion Church — and his July 4th release 10:32 — How Zion Church grew and why it became a target — the 2008 Sichuan earthquake and Xi Jinping's crackdown 12:22 — October 2024: Jin's arrest, the simultaneous network raid, and the eight still in prison 13:04 — Did Trump broker the release? The May meeting with Xi and why this one worked when others haven't 14:45 — Jin's Wall Street Journal op-ed: "I'm Free Now. Pray for China." — Hebrews 13:3 16:19 — Zion Church splits into house churches — and may now be larger than before the arrest 17:22 — Why not just join the state-sanctioned church? — a stopgap, not a home 18:16 — How should Christians think about doing business with China? 21:05 — What can ordinary believers do? — going to China, sharing the gospel, meeting the church 23:32 — How should Trump engage Xi? — befriending, influencing those around him, holding cards close 26:46 — What the American church can learn from the underground church in China 28:43 — Pastor Wang Yi update — seven and a half years in, sentence nearing end, no word from him directly 30:01 — Recent crackdown: 50 SWAT officers at a Wang Yi church plant, 20–30 arrested 32:22 — Missionary Ben's book Unbeaten, Mission Catalyst, and the Malaysia conference for Chinese house church leaders Connect with Missionary Ben Podcast: China Compass (weekends) & Prison Pulpit Series (midweek) Network: Fight Laugh Feast Network — available in the FLF app Book: Unbeaten — $4 on Amazon Ministry: Mission Catalyst International — training indigenous pastors and missionaries Give: mci3.org Fight Laugh Feast 2026: Holy Wars Join us October 1–3 in Franklin, Tennessee at The Factory in Franklin for the Fight Laugh Feast Conference. This year's theme is Holy Wars — Just War, the Crusades, and the Christian Life. Featuring Doug Wilson, Joe Boot, Pastor Toby, Ben Merkel, Jared Longshore, and more. Pre-business makers conference Thursday 1–5 PM. Pastor/church leadership luncheon Friday. Business luncheon Saturday. Booths are nearly full — sponsorship opportunities still available. Tickets: https://tickets.flfnetwork.com/holy-wars-conference Sponsorship inquiries: waterboy@crosspolitic.com Also Mentioned Business Makers Network A network for courageous Christian business leaders — building a Christian economy for the good of businesses, churches, and America. Over 100 members, quarterly CEO calls, and a national conference each May. Website: businessmakers.network Contact: waterboy@crosspolitic.com About CrossPolitic CrossPolitic exists to put Jesus over Politics and reclaim the public square through bold, joyful, biblically grounded media. We confront the chaos discipling America and build the next generation of Christian media infrastructure. Our mission is simple: all of Christ for all of media for all of America. Mainstream media is collapsing. Eighty-seven percent of journalists identify as progressive, and even many conservative outlets prioritize profit over principle. Meanwhile, billions of hours of digital content are discipling the world every day. CrossPolitic stands in that gap, producing courageous, entertaining, truth-filled media for households, churches, and leaders across the nation. Become a CrossPolitic Club Member Support the mission and unlock exclusive content, behind-the-scenes shows, and theology series. https://pubtv.flfnetwork.com/menu/checkout Subscribe & Share! Every like, comment, and share helps push Christian media back into the algorithm where it belongs. Follow CrossPolitic YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CROSSPOLITIC X: https://x.com/CrossPolitic Facebook: https://facebook.com/crosspolitic Instagram: https://instagram.com/crosspolitic Join our Email List: https://crosspolitic.com/ Available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NRBTV, DirecTV, Dish, and everywhere podcasts are found. #CrossPolitic #ChinaChurch #UndergroundChurch #PastorEzraJin #WangYi #MissionaryBen #ChristianPersecution #ChristianMedia

CrossPolitic One-on-One — Show Notes: China Update with Missionary Ben On this episode of CrossPolitic One-on-One, the Waterboy sits down with Missionary Ben — host of China Compass on the Fight Laugh Feast Network and himself a deportee from China — for an update on the underground church. The conversation covers Pastor Ezra Jin's miraculous July 4th release from prison (and the eight still behind bars), the latest crackdown on Pastor Wang Yi's church network, how Christians should think about doing business with China, and what the American church can learn from brothers and sisters who are forced to make hard decisions for their faith every single day. Timestamps 03:35 — Intro — Fight Laugh Feast conference update and Business Makers Network 07:06 — Meet Missionary Ben — deported from China, host of China Compass 08:11 — Pastor Ezra Jin: from Tiananmen Square to Zion Church — and his July 4th release 10:32 — How Zion Church grew and why it became a target — the 2008 Sichuan earthquake and Xi Jinping's crackdown 12:22 — October 2024: Jin's arrest, the simultaneous network raid, and the eight still in prison 13:04 — Did Trump broker the release? The May meeting with Xi and why this one worked when others haven't 14:45 — Jin's Wall Street Journal op-ed: "I'm Free Now. Pray for China." — Hebrews 13:3 16:19 — Zion Church splits into house churches — and may now be larger than before the arrest 17:22 — Why not just join the state-sanctioned church? — a stopgap, not a home 18:16 — How should Christians think about doing business with China? 21:05 — What can ordinary believers do? — going to China, sharing the gospel, meeting the church 23:32 — How should Trump engage Xi? — befriending, influencing those around him, holding cards close 26:46 — What the American church can learn from the underground church in China 28:43 — Pastor Wang Yi update — seven and a half years in, sentence nearing end, no word from him directly 30:01 — Recent crackdown: 50 SWAT officers at a Wang Yi church plant, 20–30 arrested 32:22 — Missionary Ben's book Unbeaten, Mission Catalyst, and the Malaysia conference for Chinese house church leaders Connect with Missionary Ben Podcast: China Compass (weekends) & Prison Pulpit Series (midweek) Network: Fight Laugh Feast Network — available in the FLF app Book: Unbeaten — $4 on Amazon Ministry: Mission Catalyst International — training indigenous pastors and missionaries Give: mci3.org Fight Laugh Feast 2026: Holy Wars Join us October 1–3 in Franklin, Tennessee at The Factory in Franklin for the Fight Laugh Feast Conference. This year's theme is Holy Wars — Just War, the Crusades, and the Christian Life. Featuring Doug Wilson, Joe Boot, Pastor Toby, Ben Merkel, Jared Longshore, and more. Pre-business makers conference Thursday 1–5 PM. Pastor/church leadership luncheon Friday. Business luncheon Saturday. Booths are nearly full — sponsorship opportunities still available. Tickets: https://tickets.flfnetwork.com/holy-wars-conference Sponsorship inquiries: waterboy@crosspolitic.com Also Mentioned Business Makers Network A network for courageous Christian business leaders — building a Christian economy for the good of businesses, churches, and America. Over 100 members, quarterly CEO calls, and a national conference each May. Website: businessmakers.network Contact: waterboy@crosspolitic.com About CrossPolitic CrossPolitic exists to put Jesus over Politics and reclaim the public square through bold, joyful, biblically grounded media. We confront the chaos discipling America and build the next generation of Christian media infrastructure. Our mission is simple: all of Christ for all of media for all of America. Mainstream media is collapsing. Eighty-seven percent of journalists identify as progressive, and even many conservative outlets prioritize profit over principle. Meanwhile, billions of hours of digital content are discipling the world every day. CrossPolitic stands in that gap, producing courageous, entertaining, truth-filled media for households, churches, and leaders across the nation. Become a CrossPolitic Club Member Support the mission and unlock exclusive content, behind-the-scenes shows, and theology series. https://pubtv.flfnetwork.com/menu/checkout Subscribe & Share! Every like, comment, and share helps push Christian media back into the algorithm where it belongs. Follow CrossPolitic YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CROSSPOLITIC X: https://x.com/CrossPolitic Facebook: https://facebook.com/crosspolitic Instagram: https://instagram.com/crosspolitic Join our Email List: https://crosspolitic.com/ Available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NRBTV, DirecTV, Dish, and everywhere podcasts are found. #CrossPolitic #ChinaChurch #UndergroundChurch #PastorEzraJin #WangYi #MissionaryBen #ChristianPersecution #ChristianMedia

CrossPolitic One-on-One — Show Notes: China Update with Missionary Ben On this episode of CrossPolitic One-on-One, the Waterboy sits down with Missionary Ben — host of China Compass on the Fight Laugh Feast Network and himself a deportee from China — for an update on the underground church. The conversation covers Pastor Ezra Jin's miraculous July 4th release from prison (and the eight still behind bars), the latest crackdown on Pastor Wang Yi's church network, how Christians should think about doing business with China, and what the American church can learn from brothers and sisters who are forced to make hard decisions for their faith every single day. Timestamps 03:35 — Intro — Fight Laugh Feast conference update and Business Makers Network 07:06 — Meet Missionary Ben — deported from China, host of China Compass 08:11 — Pastor Ezra Jin: from Tiananmen Square to Zion Church — and his July 4th release 10:32 — How Zion Church grew and why it became a target — the 2008 Sichuan earthquake and Xi Jinping's crackdown 12:22 — October 2024: Jin's arrest, the simultaneous network raid, and the eight still in prison 13:04 — Did Trump broker the release? The May meeting with Xi and why this one worked when others haven't 14:45 — Jin's Wall Street Journal op-ed: "I'm Free Now. Pray for China." — Hebrews 13:3 16:19 — Zion Church splits into house churches — and may now be larger than before the arrest 17:22 — Why not just join the state-sanctioned church? — a stopgap, not a home 18:16 — How should Christians think about doing business with China? 21:05 — What can ordinary believers do? — going to China, sharing the gospel, meeting the church 23:32 — How should Trump engage Xi? — befriending, influencing those around him, holding cards close 26:46 — What the American church can learn from the underground church in China 28:43 — Pastor Wang Yi update — seven and a half years in, sentence nearing end, no word from him directly 30:01 — Recent crackdown: 50 SWAT officers at a Wang Yi church plant, 20–30 arrested 32:22 — Missionary Ben's book Unbeaten, Mission Catalyst, and the Malaysia conference for Chinese house church leaders Connect with Missionary Ben Podcast: China Compass (weekends) & Prison Pulpit Series (midweek) Network: Fight Laugh Feast Network — available in the FLF app Book: Unbeaten — $4 on Amazon Ministry: Mission Catalyst International — training indigenous pastors and missionaries Give: mci3.org Fight Laugh Feast 2026: Holy Wars Join us October 1–3 in Franklin, Tennessee at The Factory in Franklin for the Fight Laugh Feast Conference. This year's theme is Holy Wars — Just War, the Crusades, and the Christian Life. Featuring Doug Wilson, Joe Boot, Pastor Toby, Ben Merkel, Jared Longshore, and more. Pre-business makers conference Thursday 1–5 PM. Pastor/church leadership luncheon Friday. Business luncheon Saturday. Booths are nearly full — sponsorship opportunities still available. Tickets: https://tickets.flfnetwork.com/holy-wars-conference Sponsorship inquiries: waterboy@crosspolitic.com Also Mentioned Business Makers Network A network for courageous Christian business leaders — building a Christian economy for the good of businesses, churches, and America. Over 100 members, quarterly CEO calls, and a national conference each May. Website: businessmakers.network Contact: waterboy@crosspolitic.com About CrossPolitic CrossPolitic exists to put Jesus over Politics and reclaim the public square through bold, joyful, biblically grounded media. We confront the chaos discipling America and build the next generation of Christian media infrastructure. Our mission is simple: all of Christ for all of media for all of America. Mainstream media is collapsing. Eighty-seven percent of journalists identify as progressive, and even many conservative outlets prioritize profit over principle. Meanwhile, billions of hours of digital content are discipling the world every day. CrossPolitic stands in that gap, producing courageous, entertaining, truth-filled media for households, churches, and leaders across the nation. Become a CrossPolitic Club Member Support the mission and unlock exclusive content, behind-the-scenes shows, and theology series. https://pubtv.flfnetwork.com/menu/checkout Subscribe & Share! Every like, comment, and share helps push Christian media back into the algorithm where it belongs. Follow CrossPolitic YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CROSSPOLITIC X: https://x.com/CrossPolitic Facebook: https://facebook.com/crosspolitic Instagram: https://instagram.com/crosspolitic Join our Email List: https://crosspolitic.com/ Available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, NRBTV, DirecTV, Dish, and everywhere podcasts are found. #CrossPolitic #ChinaChurch #UndergroundChurch #PastorEzraJin #WangYi #MissionaryBen #ChristianPersecution #ChristianMedia

This week on Sinica, in a special episode recorded at the Davos On Air booth at the World Economic Forum's Annual Meeting of the New Champions in Dalian, I sat down with Angela Huyue Zhang, professor of law at USC's Gould School of Law and author of High Wire: How China Regulates Big Tech and Governs Its Economy, and S. Alex Yang, professor of management science and operations at London Business School. Angela and Alex — who are also married, and who arrived at this collaboration from opposite ends of the academy — have developed what I think is one of the most useful new mental models for understanding China's political economy: the platform state. Their argument is that we should think of the Chinese state less as a central planner or owner and more as a platform company like NVIDIA or Apple, one that builds architecture, sets standards, and governs an ecosystem within which fiercely competitive private firms fight it out. Value accrues at the system level rather than as firm profit, and the payoff may decide who wins the race to put AI to work across an entire economy.5:37 – Three puzzles the framework is built to solve: profitless dominance in solar, EVs, and batteries; why the "grabbing hand" hasn't strangled Chinese innovation; and how China is attempting both zero-to-one invention and one-to-hundred scaling at once7:57 – The platform state thesis: why the Chinese government behaves like a platform company, how nurturing an ecosystem of private firms solves the information deficit that cripples command-and-control, and why over-entry, involution, and consolidation are a repeated pattern — from EVs to the 140-plus humanoid robot companies operating today16:13 – The aha moment: how a paper on the legal infrastructure of physical AI became the platform state idea over the Zhang-Yang dinner table, and whether this is a new species of political economy or the East Asian developmental state in new clothes20:44 – State conditions: why state capacity and domestic scale are the two preconditions for the model, and why an ambitious Vietnam — which has the top-down capacity — may still find the Chinese playbook impossible to replicate23:39 – Profitless dominance by design: harvesting versus extracting, the Uber analogy, overshooting as a control-theory strategy for nudging sectors, and how the anti-involution campaign and the 60-day supplier payment mandate show the state moderating the very competition it engineered30:33 – Organized chaos: from the bike-sharing graveyards of the O2O wars to today's disciplined market, the exit of more than 400 EV makers since 2018, and why the survivors of China's "Premier League" of competition are now turning profitable32:59 – The 3Gs playbook: growing markets by solving the cold-start problem, from Liuzhou's EV test drives to Beijing's green license plates, and how subsidy is only one lever among many38:36 – Governing the ecosystem like Apple runs its App Store: why Beijing regulates generative AI with a light touch but physical AI is a different species entirely, law as the sixth layer of the AI stack, why robotaxis scale faster in China than in the U.S., and the state-convened standard-setting that's driving down humanoid robot costs46:54 – Two flywheels: the familiar data-and-cost flywheel and the deeper state capacity flywheel, and how the National AI Fund's small but voting stake in DeepSeek aligns a complementor with the domestic stack — tilting the ecosystem toward Chinese chips53:28 – Guarding the moat: automotive data rules and Tesla's stalled FSD ambitions, the unwound Manus sale, China's own small yard and high fence, and the closing provocation — that America could build the smartest frontier models and still lose the diffusion race to "artificial good-enough intelligence." Plus: the case for coopetition, and what policymakers should (and shouldn't) borrow from the platform stateLinks from the episodeAngela's paper on law as the sixth layer of China's AI stack:The Sixth Layer: The Legal Infrastructure for Physical Artificial Intelligence in China (SSRN)Three Project Syndicate op-eds on the platform state idea:The Rise of the Chinese Platform State by S. Alex Yang & Angela Huyue ZhangAre Government Stakes the Key to AI Sovereignty? by Angela Huyue ZhangOvercapacity Is China's Biggest AI Advantage by Angela Huyue ZhangTwo Management Science papers on commercial platforms:Crowd-Judging on Two-Sided Platforms: An Analysis of In-Group BiasImproving Dispute Resolution in Two-Sided Platforms: The Case of Review BlackmailSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

En marcha Centro LIBRE en Mequixquiac Sichuan registra dos sismos en 24 horasNoruega dio al mundo el rebanador de quesoMás información en nuestro podcast#grc

China's Tian wen 2 asteroid sampling spacecraft has rendezvoused with its target, a near-Earth asteroid called 2016 HO3, and has started to conduct scientific surveys, according to the China National Space Administration.国家航天局消息，中国天问二号小行星采样探测器已抵达目标近地小行星 2016 HO3，开启科学探测工作。The administration announced on Monday that the Tian wen 2 robotic probe reached a position about 20 kilometers away from 2016 HO3 last week, and then started flying alongside the asteroid.该局于周一发布消息称，天问二号无人探测器上周抵达距离 2016 HO3 小行星约 20 公里的轨道位置，随后开启伴飞模式。It also released an image of 2016 HO3, which was taken by the spacecraft's camera.航天局同步发布了探测器搭载相机拍摄的 2016 HO3 小行星实拍影像。Before that point, the spacecraft had traveled around 1 billion km in a 400-day interplanetary journey, the administration noted, adding that in the following steps, the probe will conduct detailed scientific explorations in a phased manner to acquire data on the asteroid's topography, material composition and internal structure to support preparations for the sampling mission.航天局介绍，探测器历时 400 天、飞行约 10 亿公里完成地外星际航行。后续探测器将分阶段开展精细化科学探测，获取小行星地形地貌、物质成分与内部结构相关数据，为采样任务做好前置准备。During its asteroid approach, the Tian wen 2 probe obtained images of the celestial body. The mission team on the ground used optical navigation data, which was collected during the approach process, to refine the asteroid's ephemeris and reduce its position error — previously determined solely by ground-based observations — from hundreds of kilometers down to within a few kilometers, according to the administration.据介绍，天问二号在抵近小行星阶段持续拍摄天体图像。地面测控团队依托抵近过程获取的光学导航数据优化小行星星历，将此前仅依靠地面观测测算、达数百公里的定位误差缩小至数公里以内。The Tianwen 2 mission, which is China's first attempt to bring pristine asteroid samples to Earth, was launched on May 29, 2025, when a Long March 3B rocket carrying the robotic probe blasted off from the Xichang Satellite Launch Center in Sichuan province.天问二号任务是我国首次开展小行星原样采样返回工程。该探测器于 2025 年 5 月 29 日，由长征三号乙运载火箭在四川西昌卫星发射中心发射升空。En route to the asteroid, the probe conducted a series of operations, including deep-space maneuvers and midcourse corrections.在奔赴小行星的飞行途中，探测器完成多轮深空机动与轨道中途修正操作。The craft detected and identified the asteroid for the first time on June 6. The following day, it executed capture control to synchronize its motion with that of the asteroid at a distance of 30,000 km, achieving coplanar flight with the celestial body. It reached a position about 2,000 km from the asteroid on June 19.6 月 6 日，探测器首次捕获并识别目标小行星；次日，探测器在 3 万公里距离处实施捕获控制，实现与小行星同轨共面飞行；6 月 19 日，探测器抵至距离小行星约 2000 公里处。The asteroid 2016 HO3, which is also known as 469219 Kamo'oalewa, orbits the sun and is a constant companion of Earth. It is too distant to be considered a true satellite of Earth, but is the best and most stable example to date of a quasi-satellite.编号 2016 HO3 的小行星又名 469219 卡莫奥莱瓦，环绕太阳运行，长期伴随地球。该天体距离地球较远，不属于地球天然卫星，却是目前已知最典型、轨道最稳定的地球准卫星。Tian wen 2 will study the celestial body up close using a suite of 11 instruments, including cameras, spectrometers and radars, before deploying special devices to collect samples from its surface.天问二号搭载共 11 台套载荷，包含光学相机、光谱仪、雷达等设备，将近距离观测该小行星，之后释放专用采样装置采集地表样本。spacecraft /ˈspeɪskrɑːft/n. 航天器，探测器asteroid /ˈæstərɔɪd/n. 小行星ephemeris /ɪˈfemərɪs/n. 星历表spectrometer /spekˈtrɒmɪtə(r)/n. 光谱仪

Recorded live from the Davos on Air booth at the World Economic Forum's Annual Meeting of the New Champions in Dalian, this special episode of Sinica tackles the "pacing problem": the widening gap between how fast AI moves and how slowly regulation can catch up. I sit down with Xue Lan, dean of Schwarzman College at Tsinghua University and one of the architects of China's concept of "agile governance," to unpack what that term means in practice. He traces China's regulatory evolution from the 2017 AI plan through the generative AI rules and the 2021 tech crackdown, compare Chinese, American, and European approaches, and ask whether Beijing's adaptive style can travel to other political systems — including liberal democracies.00:09 – Live from Dalian: the “pacing problem” and why AI has turned it into a chasm03:18 – Introducing Xue Lan, dean of Schwarzman College and architect of “agile governance”04:34 – Why AI's pace makes it uniquely hard to regulate06:01 – Defining agile governance: mindset, partnership over adversary, and light-touch tools11:54 – From the 2017 AI plan to today: China's two-track approach to tech and governance20:07 – Balancing development and security amid the US-China AI race23:24 – Revisiting the 2021 tech crackdown: failure of the model, or agility of a different kind?26:14 – The “DeepSeek moment,” open-weight models, and regulatory uncertainty by design37:10 – EU comprehensiveness vs. US patchwork vs. China's modular, adaptive approach46:59 – Can agile governance travel to liberal democracies? Finding common ground on global AI riskSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Fluent Fiction - Mandarin Chinese: Lost in Nature: A Quest for Friendship and Adventure Find the full episode transcript, vocabulary words, and more:fluentfiction.com/zh/episode/2026-06-29-07-38-19-zh Story Transcript:Zh: 在四川雨林深处的夏天，一个阳光明媚的早晨，金、林海和美琳开始了他们的徒步冒险。En: In the heart of the Sichuan rainforest during the summer, on a sunny morning, Jin, Linhai, and Meilin began their hiking adventure.Zh: 金，一个热爱大自然的人，怀着找到偏远瀑布的愿望，充满期待地走在前面。En: Jin, a nature lover, eagerly walked ahead with hopes of finding a remote waterfall.Zh: 林海，金的堂兄，对这次旅行半信半疑，更多是为了陪伴而来。En: Linhai, Jin's cousin, was skeptical about the trip and joined more for the companionship.Zh: 美琳，是当地的向导，擅长在丛林中穿梭，但她心中也有个秘密：找到一种稀有的兰花。En: Meilin, a local guide adept at navigating the jungle, had her own secret mission: to find a rare orchid.Zh: 他们的旅程从密林深处开始，这座森林以其紧密的树冠和丰富的野生动物而闻名。En: Their journey commenced deep within the dense forest, renowned for its tightly knit canopy and rich wildlife.Zh: 虫鸣鸟叫，不绝于耳。En: The chorus of insects and birds was unending.Zh: 有时，阳光透过树叶缝隙洒下点点金光，增添了几分神秘感。En: Occasionally, sunlight streamed through the gaps in the leaves, casting spots of golden light, enhancing the sense of mystery.Zh: 几小时后，森林变得更加密集，道路愈发艰难。En: After a few hours, the forest grew denser, and the path became increasingly arduous.Zh: 严重的湿气让每一步都十分吃力。En: The oppressive humidity made each step a struggle.Zh: 金坚定地想达到瀑布，但美琳却时不时地指向另一条路，说：“那里好像有我要找的兰花。”En: Jin was determined to reach the waterfall, but Meilin occasionally pointed towards another direction, saying, “I think the orchid I'm looking for is that way.”Zh: 金犹豫了。En: Jin hesitated.Zh: 他想继续朝着瀑布前进，但又担心错过了一次帮助美琳的机会。En: He wanted to continue towards the waterfall but was also worried about missing the chance to help Meilin.Zh: 林海则两手插袋，观望两人的对话。En: Linhai watched their conversation with his hands in his pockets.Zh: 中午时分，天空突然灰暗下来，烈日被乌云遮盖。En: By noon, the sky suddenly darkened, and the scorching sun was obscured by dark clouds.Zh: “快！我们得赶紧找个地方躲雨！”美琳喊道。En: “Quick! We need to find a place to take cover from the rain!” Meilin shouted.Zh: 没多久，豆大的雨点开始落下，打在树叶上，发出哗哗声。En: Before long, large raindrops began to fall, hitting the leaves with a loud patter.Zh: 他们迅速找到一个树洞，大家合力撑起雨具。En: They quickly found a tree cavity and together set up rain gear.Zh: 雨中等待间，金终于鼓起勇气问美琳：“那兰花，对你真的这么重要吗？”En: While waiting in the rain, Jin finally mustered up the courage to ask Meilin, “Is the orchid really that important to you?”Zh: “是的，”美琳答道，声音被雨声吞没了一半，“这兰花对我家族有特别的意义。”En: “Yes,” Meilin replied, her voice half-drowned by the rain, “The orchid has special significance to my family.”Zh: 金沉思了一会，决定改变计划。En: Jin thought for a moment and decided to change their plan.Zh: 他转向林海和美琳，“那我们去找兰花吧，也许这是我们更需要做的。”En: He turned to Linhai and Meilin, “Then let's go find the orchid. Maybe that's what we really need to do.”Zh: 雨后，他们继续行走，在幽静的小径间探寻。En: After the rain, they continued walking and exploring the quiet paths.Zh: 没多久，他们发现了一片盛开的兰花，美琳望着那稀有而美丽的花朵，眼中闪烁着激动的光芒。En: Before long, they discovered a patch of blooming orchids, and Meilin gazed at the rare and beautiful flowers, her eyes shining with excitement.Zh: 突然，远处传来瀑布轰鸣声。En: Suddenly, the roar of a waterfall could be heard from a distance.Zh: 金心里一阵兴奋，看着美琳笑，“也许，这场冒险我们都会满意。”En: Jin felt a rush of excitement and smiled at Meilin, “Perhaps this adventure will satisfy us all.”Zh: 当他们站在瀑布前，水势磅礴，美琳心愿达成，金也在这里找回了平静和满足的心灵。En: As they stood before the majestic waterfall, with Meilin's wish fulfilled, Jin found peace and contentment in his heart.Zh: 林海也不再顽固，看着眼前的美景，明白了旅行的意义。En: Linhai, no longer stubborn, looked at the stunning scenery and understood the meaning of the journey.Zh: 在这次冒险中，金学会了灵活应对和团队合作的重要性。En: During this adventure, Jin learned the importance of adaptability and teamwork.Zh: 这一天，他们在森林中的经历，成为了三个人心中一道永不褪色的风景线。En: On this day, their experiences in the forest became an unforgettable chapter in the hearts of the three, an indelible scenic memory. Vocabulary Words:rainforest: 雨林hiking: 徒步remote: 偏远skeptical: 半信半疑companionship: 陪伴adept: 擅长navigate: 穿梭orchid: 兰花commenced: 开始dense: 密集canopy: 树冠wildlife: 野生动物chrous: 虫鸣鸟叫gaps: 缝隙enhancing: 增添arduous: 艰难oppressive: 严重的humidity: 湿气hesitated: 犹豫obscured: 遮盖scorching: 烈日raindrops: 雨点cavity: 树洞mustered: 鼓起significance: 意义adaptability: 灵活应对contentment: 满足indelible: 永不褪色scenic: 风景线majestic: 磅礴

Last week in Brussels, EU leaders held their first sustained debate on China policy in three years, and were so wary of Beijing's reaction they wouldn't print the word “China” on the agenda. The trigger: a goods-trade deficit closing in on 360 billion euros, and, for the first time ever, all 27 member states in the red. Recorded at Summer Davos in Dalian, I sat down with economic historian Adam Tooze to ask why the panic, and why now. Polanyi, the Plaza Accord, “glut shaming,” a $1.2 trillion surplus, and what Europe and China each most need to understand about the other.04:26 – Why the alarm now? Imbalances are decades old, so what changed—and the shift from China slotting into Western supply chains to climbing the value chain07:04 – Karl Polanyi, the “double movement,” and how the European working-class question becomes the politics of right-wing populism11:21 – Autos as the core of the fight—12 million jobs—and why the Ukraine alignment gives the whole thing its moral charge for von der Leyen14:14 – “Glut shaming”: the accusation of illegitimacy baked into the Western framing, and how it lands on a Chinese ear18:16 – Wěiqu (委屈)—the swallowed sense of being wronged and why the EU should exercise a bit of cognitive empathy20:14 – Merz reaches for the 1985 Plaza Accord, and the empathy gap that lets a German politician miss what that signals in Beijing22:00 – The currency-manipulation argument, Germany's own history with the euro, and why Switzerland is the real manipulator25:49 – The $1.2 trillion surplus—”nothing we've ever seen before”—and the consumption China refuses to do26:12 – Sorting the sectors: solar, batteries, and EVs where resistance is futile, versus steel and shipbuilding as “Polanyi double-movement as cosplay”32:04 – The Draghi report and the house of mirrors: is China the cause of Europe's malaise or just the thing exposing a homegrown one?36:27 – If Tooze had von der Leyen's ear: investment-linked talks, phased protection with a clear exit, and “investment, investment, investment”41:16 – The October clock on the U.S.–China truce, and why this autumn could get very ugly43:09 – Closing advice: what Europe and Beijing each most need to understand if this ends in managed rebalancing rather than a trade warSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Last time we spoke about the battle of Shanggao. From late March to early April 1940, Japanese forces attacked Shanggao in Jiangxi with a multi‑pronged offensive. Chinese commanders used elastic defense and coordinated counter-moves, trading space for time through layered positions until the Japanese advanced into prepared strongpoints. As the 34th Division moved toward the town, assaults repeatedly hit ridges and bridge lines held by the 74th Corps. Heavy air strikes caused chaos, but timely flank redeployments prevented a decisive breakthrough. During the crisis around March 21–24, Chinese units maneuvered an encirclement and executed a controlled breakout at the critical moment. After intense fighting and bombing, the Japanese were routed and fell back to their original positions. The wider war did not change, yet Shanggao proved that disciplined Chinese planning could reverse Japanese offensives against superior initiative and numbers.   #207 Battle of Zhongtiao Mountain Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. By the spring of 1941, the War of Resistance against Japan had been grinding for nearly four years, and the map of China looked increasingly like a wound. Japan controlled the coastal cities, the major river valleys, and most of the productive lowland plains of the north and east. The Nationalist government had retreated far inland to Chongqing, governing a rump state of mountainous hinterland, foreign sympathies, and diminishing resources. The war had long since ceased to look like a conventional conflict between organized fronts and had settled into something grimmer and more ambiguous — a slow war of attrition fought in the mud and rocks of the Chinese interior, punctuated by Japanese offensives designed not to end the war but to compress it, to squeeze the Nationalists tighter with each season until surrender became a rational calculation rather than a humiliation. Japan had tried other methods first. In the late 1930s, Tokyo made serious overtures to Chiang Kai-shek's government, proposing a negotiated settlement that would see China aligned with Japan and the puppet Wang Jingwei government elevated as the vehicle for that arrangement. Chiang refused. He had gambled, and would continue to gamble, that the war in Europe would eventually draw in the Western powers, that American patience with Japanese aggression would run out, and that time was ultimately on China's side. The strategy required suffering in the present to buy survival in the future. Germany's invasion of Poland in September 1939 and the subsequent expansion of war across Europe only reinforced Japan's desire to accelerate its operations in China before the international situation made them impossible. By 1940, Japan signaled it intended to resolve the "China Incident" — the bureaucratic euphemism it used to avoid officially acknowledging that it was fighting a full-scale war — once and for all. The question was where. The front was hundreds of miles long. The Japanese army in China was stretched thin despite its nominal strength. Spectacular victories in the lowlands had failed to produce the political capitulation Tokyo expected. And in the mountains of Shanxi Province, a particular irritant had been festering for three years — one that the Japanese could neither ignore nor seem to dislodge. The Zhongtiao Mountains rise along the southern edge of Shanxi Province, running roughly east to west for some two hundred miles, forming a natural wall between the loess plateaus of Shanxi and the plains of northern Henan below. The range is not dramatic by Chinese standards — it is not the soaring, cloud-piercing landscape of Sichuan or Yunnan — but it is rugged, deeply ridged, and extraordinarily difficult to move through quickly. For a defending army with knowledge of the terrain, the Zhongtiao range was close to ideal. For an attacker, especially one dependent on mechanized firepower and coordinated logistics, it was a nightmare. Chinese forces had occupied the Zhongtiao Mountains since 1938, following the fall of Taiyuan and the retreat of Nationalist forces from the broader Shanxi campaign. At a moment when much of northern China was collapsing around them, the garrison there dug in and refused to move. Over the following three years, the Japanese Army mounted thirteen separate offensives against the Zhongtiao position. All thirteen failed. The mountains held. Chinese soldiers would later call it the "Eastern Maginot Line," a nickname that was simultaneously a boast and, in retrospect, a warning — the original Maginot Line, after all, had also been considered impregnable until the enemy simply went around it. But the strategic importance of Zhongtiao went beyond prestige. The mountains commanded the northern approach to the Yellow River crossings — the great geographic boundary that separated Japanese-controlled northern China from the Nationalist-held central and western regions. From their positions in the mountains, Chinese troops could threaten Japanese supply lines, protect their own river logistics, and maintain at least a symbolic presence north of the Yellow River. As long as the Zhongtiao garrison held, Japan could not claim complete control of northern China. It was also a potential launching point for a Chinese counteroffensive, should one ever become possible. The Japanese understood this perfectly. By 1940, eliminating the Zhongtiao position had become not merely desirable but strategically necessary. The First War Zone command responsible for the Zhongtiao garrison was, at least on paper, an imposing force. Between 170,000 and 180,000 men were deployed across the mountain range and its approaches, drawn from multiple armies and organized into several large groupings. The 5th Army Group under Zeng Wanzhong held the central area. The 14th Army Group under Liu Maoen operated in the eastern sector. The 4th Army Group, known as the "Iron Pillar of Zhongtiao" for its tenacious defense of the position over three years, was stationed as the backbone of the force. Individual armies were spread across specific nodes: Pei Changhui's 9th Army at Jiyuan in northern Henan; Zhao Shiling's 43rd Army at Yuanqu at the southernmost tip of Shanxi; Tang Huaiyuan's 3rd Army and Kong Lingxun's 80th Army in the Wenxi and Xiaxian areas; Wu Shimin's 98th Army at Dongfeng Town; Wu Tinglin's 15th Army near Gaoping. The man responsible for holding all of this together was Wei Lihuang, a gifted commander and one of Chiang Kai-shek's most capable generals. Wei had organized the Zhongtiao defense from the beginning, and his strategic instincts were widely respected. He was, by most accounts, the indispensable figure in the garrison's survival. The problem was that Wei had made powerful enemies. His refusal to participate in anti-Communist friction operations — at a time when the Nationalist government was increasingly focused on neutralizing the Communists even at the cost of Japanese resistance — had alienated him from a circle of powerful rivals, including the influential Hu Zongnan. Outmaneuvered at court, Wei was summoned to Chongqing in early 1941 and, under the pretext of strategic consultations, was effectively detained at Mount Emei. He never returned to his command in the Zhongtiao Mountains. The army he had built was left without its architect. The garrison that remained was compromised far beyond its missing commander, however. Three years of static defense had created conditions that corroded military discipline in predictable and insidious ways. Supply lines were unreliable, rations were short, and the soldiers garrisoning remote mountain positions had turned, by necessity and then by habit, to the local economy to sustain themselves. A bustling illicit trade in grain and opium had sprung up across the mountain zone, with Chinese troops selling what they could and buying what they needed from merchants who operated equally comfortably on both sides of the Japanese-Chinese frontier. This was not merely a logistical failure. It meant that Japanese intelligence had abundant commercial cover to infiltrate the garrison area, that security was a fiction, and that the defensive posture of the entire force had quietly shifted from warlike readiness to something closer to bureaucratic occupation. The Japanese had not missed any of this. For months before the offensive, Japanese intelligence agents had worked their way into the garrison's supply networks, trading relationships, and eventually its command structure itself. Japanese special forces had identified key headquarters positions. Informants had mapped the positions of individual units, traced the routes between them, and assessed the readiness of the men holding them. By the spring of 1941, Japanese planners believed, with considerable justification, that they could paralyze the entire Chinese command system within an hour of opening fire. This was not boasting. It was reconnaissance. Back in Chongqing, the intelligence picture was worse than unclear — it was actively distorted. The Nationalist intelligence apparatus issued warnings about Japanese troop movements near the Zhongtiao perimeter in April 1941, but the warnings were partial, their significance disputed, and the political will to act on them absent. A series of conferences were convened at Luoyang, the regional headquarters. Fortification orders were issued. Additional supplies were promised. Almost none of the follow-through actually materialized. The garrison's most powerful formation, the 4th Army Group, had already been transferred away from the area. Its absence left a hole in the defensive line that no amount of paper orders could fill. On the Japanese side, the operation that would eliminate the Zhongtiao garrison was carefully and systematically prepared. It was codenamed the "Central Plains Campaign" — a name that reflected its true ambition, which was not merely to take a mountain range but to reshape the strategic geography of the entire region. The operation was assigned to the North China Area Army under Lieutenant General Tada Shun, an experienced commander who had studied the Zhongtiao problem for years and had a clear understanding of why previous offensives had failed. The core of the attacking force was seven divisions: the 33rd, 35th, 36th, 37th, 41st, and 21st Divisions, along with several independent mixed brigades, puppet Chinese formations, cavalry, and a substantial artillery and air component. The 3rd Air Group, operating from airfields at Yuncheng and Xinxiang, would provide tactical air support throughout the operation. In total, the frontline assault force numbered approximately 100,000 men. This was not a repeat of the previous thirteen offensives, in which the Japanese had probed and pressed at the mountains frontally. This was a comprehensive annihilation plan. Tada's design exploited the geographic shape of the Zhongtiao position itself. The Chinese garrison occupied a roughly crescent-shaped area, with its back to the Yellow River and its front facing north and east into Japanese-held territory. The obvious previous approach — attacking from the north — had failed repeatedly because the terrain favored the defenders. Tada's solution was to attack from three directions simultaneously, with the town of Yuanqu on the Yellow River as the primary objective. Yuanqu was the hinge of the entire Chinese position: it controlled the main river crossings, served as the central supply point for the garrison, and sat at the narrowest point between the mountains and the water. If Yuanqu fell, the Chinese would be cut off from their supply line and divided into two separate pockets. Then each pocket could be destroyed at leisure. To execute this, Tada organized his forces into three attack groups. The eastern group, built around Lieutenant General Harada Yukichi's 35th Division with elements of the 21st Division and the 4th Independent Cavalry Brigade — totaling roughly 25,000 men with armor, artillery, and supporting puppet forces — would drive westward along the Daoqing Road, pushing through Jiyuan and Mengxian toward the eastern flank of the Chinese position. The northeastern group, under Lieutenant General Shozo Sakurai commanding the 33rd Division and an Independent Mixed Brigade, would descend from Yangcheng southward, striking at the middle of the Chinese line. The western and northwestern group, the largest, comprising the 36th, 37th, and 41st Divisions along with the 9th and 16th Independent Mixed Brigades, would push southward from multiple points between Sangchi and Zhangdian, driving straight for Yuanqu. The final element of the plan was the most audacious. Japanese special forces and paratroopers were to land behind Chinese lines on the opening night of the offensive, targeting the Chinese headquarters and communications nodes. If the Chinese command could be blinded and paralyzed in the first hours of the battle, resistance would collapse before it could organize. Given the penetration of the garrison by Japanese intelligence, the paratroopers knew precisely where to go. From late April, Japanese forces quietly moved into their assault positions. Supply dumps were stocked. Artillery was registered on Chinese positions. The attack was set for the morning of May 7, 1941. Everything was ready. The battle opened before dawn on May 7, and it opened everywhere at once. On the eastern front, Harada's 35th Division and its attached formations crossed the start line and drove westward in three parallel columns along the Daoqing Road. More than 5,000 infantrymen, 1,000 cavalry, dozens of artillery pieces, over 100 tanks and armored vehicles, and the supporting puppet troops of Zhang Lanfeng and Liu Yanfeng poured into the Chinese-held area around Jiyuan and Mengxian. The assault had an almost mechanical quality — it moved at the pace of its armor and artillery, methodically grinding through whatever lay in its path. On the northeastern front, Sakurai's 33rd Division descended from Yangcheng with more than 10,000 men, striking at Wu Shimin's 98th Army at Dongfeng Town. Wu was one of the more aggressive Chinese commanders in the garrison, and he did not wait to be overwhelmed. He threw his forces into active resistance on multiple axes, contesting each Japanese advance rather than simply absorbing it. In the fighting around Wangcun, his troops achieved one of the campaign's rare Chinese tactical successes, routing approximately 2,000 Japanese attackers and killing more than 700, including Colonel Hamada, a Japanese regimental commander. It was a genuine local victory, but it could not change the larger picture. On the western and northwestern front, the main Japanese force pushed south with its eyes fixed on Yuanqu. The coordinated weight of three divisions and two independent brigades, all moving along converging axes, was designed to be overwhelming. Individually, a Chinese unit might hold a ridge or a pass for a day. Collectively, there was no way to stop what was coming. And that same night, as the Chinese scrambled to respond to attacks on every side, Japanese paratroopers landed near Chinese headquarters positions. They found what intelligence had promised: a command system already in disarray, staffed by officers who had received no coherent orders and had lost communications with most of their subordinate units. The Japanese were not wrong when they predicted they could paralyze the Chinese command within hours. By the morning of May 8, the Chinese First War Zone headquarters had effectively ceased to function as a coordinating body. Individual armies would fight on, but they would fight alone. The second day of the battle brought the decisive blow. On the afternoon of May 8, the 9th Army under Pei Changhui — already reeling from the pressure of the eastern Japanese columns — abandoned the cities of Ji and Meng and fell back westward. The withdrawal opened a path through the Chinese line, and the Japanese exploited it immediately. That evening, with the assistance of paratroopers who had secured key access routes overnight, Japanese forces reached Yuanqu on the Yellow River's northern bank and took it. The fall of Yuanqu changed everything. At a single stroke, the Chinese garrison's supply line from the south bank of the Yellow River was severed. The main crossing points were in Japanese hands. The two halves of the Chinese position — those to the east of Yuanqu and those to the west — were now separated, unable to reinforce one another. The double encirclement that Tada had designed on paper became a physical reality on the ground. The trap had closed. May 9 brought further disaster. Japanese forces captured Wufujian, another significant point in the Chinese rear. And on this day the battle's human cost began to register in the most stark terms possible. Wang Jun, commander of the newly formed 27th Division of Kong Lingxun's 80th Army, was killed in action fighting in the southern Shanxi mountains. Major General Chen Wenqi, deputy commander of the 24th Division, died in fierce combat near Taizhai Village. And Major General Liang Xixian, having retreated with the remnants of his force to Taizhai and found every route blocked — his options reduced to surrender or death — walked into the Yellow River and drowned himself. He was not the last Chinese officer to choose death over capture. The loss of three generals in a single day was not merely tragic. It reflected something about the nature of the battle that the casualty statistics alone could not capture: the Chinese officers who fought most fiercely and refused to abandon their positions were precisely the men dying, while the broader institutional structure that should have supported them had already failed. The garrison was being consumed from its fighting edge inward. Over the following two days, the Japanese methodically tightened the ring. The eastern column, having taken Yuanqu, split into two prongs: one drove eastward, capturing Shaoyuan by the morning of May 12 and linking up with the forces that had been pressing westward from Jiyuan; the other drove westward to Wufujian, joining with the troops already there. The inner encirclement was now complete and continuous. The Yellow River crossings along the entire Chinese front were blocked. There was no route south that wasn't already under fire or in Japanese hands. The fighting in the mountain passes was, by all accounts, ferocious. At Fengmenkou — a critical pass that both sides recognized as a key chokepoint — the Chinese 9th Army committed the main force of its newly formed 24th Division along with elements of the 54th Division, fighting for every ridge and ravine. The Japanese sent reinforcements and simply absorbed the punishment, pressing forward until numbers and artillery told. By May 12, the position at Jianshan had been surrounded as well, and the outer ring of encirclement had sealed. The Chinese armies in the Zhongtiao Mountains were now divided into isolated pockets, each fighting separately, each trying to find a gap in the Japanese lines that simply wasn't there. Beyond the mountains, the Chinese high command in Luoyang was issuing desperate orders. Units that had already been overrun were instructed to hold positions they no longer occupied. Army commanders who had lost contact with their corps were told to coordinate with formations they couldn't reach. The gap between the orders flowing from headquarters and the reality on the ground had become absolute. The First War Zone command was, in practical terms, a spectator to the destruction of its own army. Of all the days in the three-week battle, May 13 was perhaps the most devastating for Chinese morale. At Cunbu, in the western sector, the 3rd Army under Lieutenant General Tang Huaiyuan had been surrounded and cut off. Tang was among the finest officers in the Nationalist army — a career soldier of exceptional ability, admired by subordinates and superiors alike, the kind of commander who by his personal presence could steady troops on the edge of breaking. He had led the 3rd Army in continuous fighting since May 7, conducting a fighting retreat that had preserved more of his force than most. But there was nowhere left to retreat to. Cunbu was surrounded on all sides. The Yellow River was behind him. The Japanese were in front. Tang Huaiyuan sat with his surviving officers and told them that he would not surrender. Then he shot himself. He was fifty-seven years old. On the same day, Cun Xingqi, commander of the 12th Division, was hit eight times during close combat and died on the field. The tally of dead general officers had now reached five in the space of a week. Tang Huaiyuan's death, unlike the others, resonated as something more than a military loss. He was a symbol of what the Zhongtiao defense had once represented: the possibility that courage and skill could compensate for disadvantages in firepower and logistics. His death seemed to say, loudly, that that possibility was exhausted. Chiang Kai-shek, when news reached him in Chongqing, personally ordered that Tang Huaiyuan be posthumously promoted and honored. The gesture was well-intentioned and entirely beside the point. Tang was dead. His army was destroyed. The gesture could not undo either fact. With the double encirclement complete and the primary Chinese resistance broken, the Japanese Army entered the second and less dramatic but equally brutal phase of its operation: the systematic clearance of what remained. Beginning around May 15, Japanese units shifted from the headlong offensive drives of the first week to methodical sweep operations, moving through the mountain terrain in organized formations, pressing into each remaining pocket and eliminating whatever resistance they found. The Yellow River's northern bank was secured by Japanese forces who established posts at the crossing points, blocking retreat and interdicting any resupply attempt. From the western front, sweep operations continued in a series of movements that lasted until well into June, each one driving Chinese remnants further into smaller and more untenable positions. Japanese after-action reports from this period read with the clinical detachment of men doing carpentry rather than fighting: so many positions cleared, so many prisoners taken, so many bodies counted. For the surviving Chinese forces, this period was one of desperate improvisation. With coordinated resistance impossible and every organized position either taken or surrounded, the remnant armies broke up into smaller columns and attempted to find their own routes out of the encirclement. Their experiences varied enormously depending on their starting position, the initiative of their commanders, and fortune. The remnants of the 3rd Army and 15th Army, under Zeng Wanzhong of the 5th Army Group, managed to push through to Yellow River crossings in the west and get their men across to the south bank, eventually reorganizing at Luoyang and Xin'an. The 93rd Army, which had occupied positions in the northeast, shook off the Japanese pursuit with sufficient speed and organization to cross at Yumenkou and escape into Hancheng County in Shaanxi Province, preserving more of its fighting strength than most. Wu Shimin's 98th Army — whose fighting at Wangcun had been one of the campaign's genuine bright spots — was pushed northward into the Taiyue Mountains, conducting guerrilla operations as it went. Wu himself was wounded during the withdrawal and would spend months recovering; he never fully recovered his health, and would die by suicide the following year. The 43rd Army under Zhao Shiling, which had held Yuanqu before its fall, managed a fighting withdrawal toward Fushan and Yicheng in the north. Pei Changhui's 9th Army conducted several days of guerrilla operations along the Daoqing Road before finding crossings at Xiaodukou and Guanyangdukou and getting across the Yellow River to safety. By May 27, the great majority of the Zhongtiao Mountain garrison had either been destroyed, captured, or withdrawn. The mountains that had held for three years were in Japanese hands. The battle, for all practical purposes, was over. The two sides emerged from the battle with starkly different accounts of what had happened, and the gap between those accounts is itself revealing. Japanese operational records claimed that their forces had killed approximately 42,000 Chinese soldiers on the battlefield, taken around 35,000 prisoners, captured enormous quantities of weapons and supplies, and inflicted total Chinese casualties exceeding 100,000. Against this, Japanese headquarters reported their own losses as 673 killed and 2,292 wounded — a ratio so lopsided that it seemed to describe a completely different kind of warfare. Whether or not the precise numbers are accurate, Japanese sources were consistent in portraying the battle as a catastrophic one-sided rout. The Chinese government's official figures, presented to the public and to allied nations, told a very different story. Nationalist records acknowledged approximately 13,751 officers and soldiers killed, wounded, gassed, or missing, while claiming Japanese casualties of around 9,900. These numbers, by the standards of the actual fighting and the geographic scale of the defeat, strained credulity. They were the numbers of a government that needed, for political and morale reasons, to minimize a disaster it could not afford to fully acknowledge. What is beyond dispute is the strategic result. The Zhongtiao garrison, which had held for three years against thirteen prior offensives, had been destroyed in twenty days. The last significant Nationalist Chinese presence north of the Yellow River in the region had been eliminated. Japan now controlled the northern bank of the river for a substantial stretch, had secured its supply lines through southern Shanxi, and had opened the door for future pressure on Luoyang and ultimately Xi'an. The mountain barrier that had allowed Chinese forces to threaten Japanese logistics was gone. It would not be rebuilt. Six senior Chinese generals had died in the battle: Wang Jun, Chen Wenqi, Liang Xixian, Tang Huaiyuan, Cun Xingqi, and others in the fighting. Their deaths were individually remarkable — men choosing death over surrender at rate that reflected both the desperate conditions of the battle and a code of honor that many of them explicitly invoked in their final moments. They were also, in aggregate, a measure of how completely the officer corps had been consumed. In the decades since the battle, historians have returned repeatedly to the question of why a position held for three years collapsed so completely in three weeks. The answers are neither simple nor flattering to the Nationalist government, and they were debated with bitter intensity in Chongqing even while the battle was still being fought. The most immediate cause was the removal of Wei Lihuang. This was not merely the loss of a capable general — it was the destruction of the institutional knowledge and personal relationships that had made the defense function. The Zhongtiao garrison was not simply a collection of soldiers in mountain positions; it was a system, carefully constructed over three years, that depended on specific command relationships, established logistics arrangements, and particular allocation of resources. Wei had built that system. Without him, and without any adequate replacement, it became something far more brittle than it appeared. Below the level of high command, the garrison's gradual corruption was an equally powerful factor. The trading networks, the opium commerce, the penetration by Japanese intelligence — these were not incidental problems but symptoms of a deeper institutional failure. An army that has spent three years in static defensive positions, chronically undersupplied and without a meaningful offensive mission, tends toward exactly this kind of decay. The Nationalist government's decision to prioritize anti-Communist friction operations over Zhongtiao's fighting readiness had removed the 4th Army Group — the backbone of the defense — and had consumed Wei Lihuang's attention and political capital at the worst possible moment. The Japanese plan, too, deserves credit it rarely receives in Chinese accounts of the battle. The three-pronged converging attack on Yuanqu was not simply overwhelming force applied to an obvious target. It was an elegant solution to the genuine tactical puzzle that the Zhongtiao mountains presented, exploiting the garrison's geographic vulnerability with a precision that turned the defenders' mountain terrain from an asset into a trap. The use of paratroopers to decapitate the Chinese command in the opening hours was a sophisticated operational concept that worked almost exactly as designed. Tada Shun was not lucky. He was thorough. Finally, there is the question of Chiang Kai-shek's own priorities. His reported weeping upon receiving news of the defeat was genuine, in the sense that the loss clearly shocked and grieved him. But the decisions that led to the defeat — Wei Lihuang's removal, the transfer of the 4th Army Group, the neglect of fortification and resupply in the months preceding the battle — had been made in Chongqing, not in the mountains. The Zhongtiao garrison had been strategically sacrificed, piece by piece, for political calculations in the internal factional struggle between Nationalists and Communists. Whether Chiang understood the cost of those choices before May 7, 1941, is debatable. After that date, it was difficult to pretend otherwise. The fall of the Zhongtiao Mountains did not end the War of Resistance, but it substantially worsened China's strategic position in the north. Over the following months, Japan used its consolidated control of southern Shanxi to increase pressure on the Yellow River line and probe toward Luoyang. The surviving Chinese armies, reorganized south of the river, were in no position to counterattack. The mountains themselves, stripped of their garrison and secured by Japanese occupation troops, became part of the extended Japanese occupation zone — a territory to be administered and exploited rather than contested. For the men who had fought there, the battle left wounds that went beyond the physical. Entire armies had to be rebuilt from remnants. Officers who had retreated, whether under orders or on their own initiative, faced boards of inquiry in an atmosphere of recrimination and blame-seeking. Some were cashiered. Some faced criminal proceedings. The search for culpability — which was genuine enough, since the failure was genuine — tended to fall on those least able to defend themselves rather than on the senior commanders and political figures whose decisions had created the conditions for defeat. The posthumous honors awarded to Tang Huaiyuan, Liang Xixian, Wang Jun, and the other officers who died in battle were heartfelt, and they were also convenient. The heroic dead could be elevated without requiring the living to answer uncomfortable questions. Their sacrifice was real. The system that wasted it was also real. In the broader history of the Second Sino-Japanese War, the Battle of Zhongtiao Mountain tends to be overshadowed by more famous engagements — Shanghai, Nanjing, Taierzhuang, the later battles along the Salween. This is partly because the Chinese side lost comprehensively and had little interest in memorializing the loss, and partly because the battle's significance was more strategic than dramatic. There was no great last stand, no single moment of heroism sufficient to redeem the catastrophe. There were only men dying in mountain passes, generals walking into rivers, and an entire defensive system disintegrating under the weight of its own contradictions. What the Battle of Zhongtiao Mountain represents, in the end, is a case study in how military positions are really lost. They are rarely lost on the battlefield alone. They are lost in the staff meetings where capable commanders are removed for political reasons. They are lost in the supply depots that never get restocked. They are lost in the informal economies that grow up when institutions stop functioning. They are lost in the intelligence assessments that are written and ignored. They are lost, finally and irreversibly, in the early morning hours when the guns open simultaneously on three sides and the men at the radios discover that no one is answering.     I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. On May 7, 1941, Japan opened a three-front assault on Zhongtiao Mountains; paratroopers disrupted command night. With the 9th Army withdrawing, Yuanqu fell on May 8, severing supply and trapping the garrison. Fighting raged through May 13, costing generals, until Japanese sweeps cleared pockets; survivors escaped south of Yellow River.

Dr. Don and Professor Ben talk about the risks from a continuous homemade sichuan pickle fermenter Dr. Don - not risky

Joining us today is Carl Zha, a Sichuan-born Chinese-American political commentator, raised between China and the United States, with education at Caltech, and living in Bali. He tells us the story of the PRC's rise to geopolitical superpower. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

General Secretary of the Communist Party of China (CPC) Central Committee Xi Jinping has urged incessant efforts in regularizing coordinated regional development to secure solid progress in advancing common prosperity for all.Xi, also Chinese president and chairman of the Central Military Commission, made the remarks in recent instructions on steadily advancing the cooperation between China's eastern and western regions. He highlighted the east-west cooperation program's significant role in supporting poverty alleviation efforts and promoting balanced regional development over the past 30 years since its initiation, which has demonstrated the political strengths of the Party, as well as the superiority of China's socialist system.Xi highlighted this year as the opening year of China's 15th Five-Year Plan, as well as the first year of the regular assistance efforts in the country's rural revitalization drive. He also called for efforts to summarize and apply the valuable experience gained from cooperation between Fujian province and Ningxia Hui autonomous region, further improve cooperation mechanisms, optimize cooperation methods, and expand the scopes of cooperation. The endeavors are expected to promote industrial complementarity, personnel exchanges, and mutual learning of technologies, ideas, and work styles between the eastern and western regions, and to achieve mutual benefits, win-win outcomes, and common development.Party committees and governments at all levels should earnestly fulfill their responsibilities for regularized assistance for western regions, firmly secure the bottom line to prevent any large-scale relapse into poverty or new cases of poverty, steadily advance rural revitalization across the board, and continuously enhance coordinated regional development, so as to make solid progress toward common prosperity for all.The important instructions of Xi were conveyed at a national work conference on east-west regional cooperation, which opened on June 17 in Yinchuan, capital of Ningxia. Liu Guozhong, a member of the Political Bureau of the CPC Central Committee and vice premier of the State Council, delivered a speech at the meeting. Liu emphasized that General Secretary Xi's important instructions are strategically insightful, profound and incisive, demonstrating strong political, ideological and guiding significance. They provide fundamental guidance for carrying out regularized east-west cooperation, and must be thoroughly studied, fully understood and resolutely implemented.Liu underscored the need to consistently uphold the political responsibility, firmly establish and practice a correct understanding of governance performance, and draw upon the successful experience from Fujian-Ningxia cooperation, among others. Efforts should be intensified to deepen industrial and labor-service coordination between the eastern and western regions, strengthen the exchange of officials and professionals, expand cooperation in science and technology, finance and other fields. It is essential to carry out work creatively in light of local conditions, continuously improve the quality and effectiveness of collaboration, and promote complementary strengths, mutual empowerment and common development.The meeting also briefed participants on the progress of east-west regional cooperation. Officials from Ningxia Hui autonomous region and Fujian province respectively introduced the experience and practices in Fujian-Ningxia cooperation. Officials from Beijing and Shanghai municipalities, as well as Jiangsu, Guangdong, Sichuan and Gansu provinces also addressed the meeting.Officials from relevant provinces, autonomous regions and municipalities undertaking east-west regional cooperation tasks, as well as those from some member departments of the Central Rural Work Leading Group, attended the meeting.

This week’s episode of the Prison Pulpit once again gives us the opportunity to talk about Wang Yi’s Early Rain Church in Sichuan, China. The church was forcibly closed down in December of 2018, which is when Wang Yi went to Prison. The remaining congregation has continued to be harassed all these years. I'm your China travel guide in exile, Missionary Ben. Follow me on Twitter/X (@chinaadventures) where I share a new Chinese city to pray for every single day. Feel free to email anytime: chinacompass @ privacyport.com. Check out PrayGiveGo.us for everything else, incl. Patreon, Substack & books… Unbeaten: My Arrest, Interrogation + Deportation from China (Unbeaten.vip) Orthodox Christians killed and historic church destroyed in Ethiopia https://www.opendoorsuk.org/news/latest-news/ethiopia-attack-orthodox-christians-killed/ Boko Haram Hostages Released https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/ce8j0jn4xjgo China detains two leaders of Early Rain, an influential underground church https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/ce9582vlm83o Follow China Compass Thank you for listening! Subscribe & leave a review on your preferred podcast platform! And don’t forget to visit PrayGiveGo.us for books + Heb. 13:3: Remember those who are in prison, “as bound with them”!

Ceci est un extrait du 5ème quart d'heure de la semaine : La folle nuit de Louise !Pour écouter le 5ème Quart d'Heure et profiter de contenu exclusif, abonnez-vous par ici : https://5emequartdheure.supercast.comAbonnez-vous à 4 Quarts d'Heure sur votre plateforme préférée : https://tr.ee/MEaR8W9S9GSuivez-nous sur Instagram :4 Quarts d'Heure : @4quartsdheureLouise : @petrouchka_Alix : @alixmrtnCamille : @camille.lorenteAu montage de cet épisode Alphonse GausslinAu mixage et à la prod Zu Aux réseaux Coline Jamait Hébergé par Acast. Visitez acast.com/privacy pour plus d'informations.

This week’s episode of the Prison Pulpit once again gives us the opportunity to talk about Wang Yi’s Early Rain Church in Sichuan, China. The church was forcibly closed down in December of 2018, which is when Wang Yi went to Prison. The remaining congregation has continued to be harassed all these years. I'm your China travel guide in exile, Missionary Ben. Follow me on Twitter/X (@chinaadventures) where I share a new Chinese city to pray for every single day. Feel free to email anytime: chinacompass @ privacyport.com. Check out PrayGiveGo.us for everything else, incl. Patreon, Substack & books… Unbeaten: My Arrest, Interrogation + Deportation from China (Unbeaten.vip) Orthodox Christians killed and historic church destroyed in Ethiopia https://www.opendoorsuk.org/news/latest-news/ethiopia-attack-orthodox-christians-killed/ Boko Haram Hostages Released https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/ce8j0jn4xjgo China detains two leaders of Early Rain, an influential underground church https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/ce9582vlm83o Follow China Compass Thank you for listening! Subscribe & leave a review on your preferred podcast platform! And don’t forget to visit PrayGiveGo.us for books + Heb. 13:3: Remember those who are in prison, “as bound with them”!

This week on Sinica I'm joined by Robert Wright, author of The Moral Animal, Nonzero, and The Evolution of God, for a conversation that runs a little outside our usual beat, though China sits closer to its center than you'd expect. The occasion is his new book The God Test: Artificial Intelligence and Our Coming Cosmic Reckoning, which reads the AI revolution as the latest turn in a story going back billions of years. We get into the French Jesuit paleontologist Teilhard de Chardin's "noosphere," Bob's argument that we evolved large language models rather than engineered them, the cognitive empathy we've both long preached, and the two-word talking point — "But China!" — that Bob thinks is most likely to lead us astray.6:56 – Teilhard de Chardin, the noosphere, and why a planetary "global brain" has become necessary14:49 – Directionality without the mysticism: complexification, teleology, and the "cell's-eye view" worry21:57 – The God Test: is moral progress really the price of governing AI, and is that hopeless on a short clock?28:33 – Why Bob says we evolved large language models rather than built them, and the sycophancy problem that follows35:19 – Open weights and open source: a real safety argument, or competitiveness in safety's clothing?40:03 – Cognitive empathy as the master key, and the same capacity as an engine of deception48:06 – Arms-race fatalism and its limits: cheetahs, gazelles, and the rival who can pick up the phone53:40 – "But China": fear of Beijing, Anthropic and Amodei, Jeff Ding, and the chip-control backfire1:10:48 – Nonzero: game theory, common threats, and the takeoff scenarios that worry Bob most1:23:22 – Attribution error and projection, Ed Fredkin's old warning, and the actual first movePaying It Forward: Garrison Lovely, author of the forthcoming Obsolete (Nation Books) and the Substack of the same name on the AI race.Recommendations:Bob: Pantheon, the animated series on uploaded minds and emergent superintelligence; and the Crowded House song "Don't Dream It's Over."Kaiser: Kyle Chan's High Capacity podcast, especially his episode with Carnegie's Matt Sheehan, "Is China Getting Worried About AI?"; and Patrick O'Brian's Aubrey-Maturin novels.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The China Meteorological Administration raised its major meteorological disaster emergency response on Monday morning, escalating it from level four, the lowest, to level three, and expanding the alert to cover both torrential rain and severe convective weather.6月15日上午，中国气象局将重大气象灾害应急响应由最低的四级提升至三级，并将预警范围扩大至暴雨和强对流天气。Meanwhile, the National Meteorological Center has renewed a blue alert for severe convective weather, the lowest level of its three-tier warning system, adding that powerful thunderstorms, hail and torrential downpours will sweep across large parts of the country.与此同时，中央气象台继续发布强对流天气蓝色预警——这是其三级预警体系中最低级别——并提示，强雷暴、冰雹和暴雨将席卷全国大范围地区。The center said that from Monday afternoon through Tuesday afternoon, thunderstorms accompanied by gale-force winds above level 8, equivalent to gusts of at least 62 kilometers per hour, or hail are likely to hit some areas of central and eastern parts of North China and the southern part of South China.中央气象台表示，从6月15日下午至16日下午，华北中东部和华南南部部分地区可能出现雷暴大风或冰雹天气，风力可达8级以上，即阵风风速至少62公里/小时。In some areas of Hebei province, Beijing and Tianjin, winds will be even stronger, with gusts exceeding level 10, meaning speeds of more than 88 km/h.河北部分地区、北京和天津风力更强，阵风可达10级以上，即风速超过88公里/小时。Meanwhile, intense bursts of short-duration heavy rain are forecast for central and southern parts of Northeast China, central and eastern parts of North China, central and southern parts of South China and southern part of Southwest China.同时，东北中南部、华北中东部、华南中南部及西南南部地区预计将出现短时强降水。These storms could deliver hourly rainfall of more than 20 millimeters.这些风暴的小时雨量可能超过20毫米。The downpours are expected to be heavier in the southern part of Hebei, the southeastern part of the Guangxi Zhuang autonomous region and the southern part of Guangdong province, where hourly rates may surpass 50 mm and could peak above 90 mm.预计河北南部、广西东南部和广东南部降水更强，小时雨量可能超过50毫米，局部可达90毫米以上。The center said that from Monday through Wednesday, heavy to violent rainfall is expected to hit most parts of Guangdong and Guangxi, central and southern parts of Fujian province, the southern part of Jiangxi province, western and eastern parts of Yunnan province, the southern part of Sichuan province and the southwestern part of Guizhou province, with some areas likely to be hit by severe rainstorms.中央气象台表示，6月15日至17日，广东大部、广西大部、福建中南部、江西南部、云南东西部、四川南部和贵州西南部将有大到暴雨，部分地区可能遭遇大暴雨。Coastal areas of southern China will experience localized heavy downpours of extreme intensity.华南沿海地区将出现局地极端强降水。The eastern part of the Inner Mongolia autonomous region, Northeast China, North China, and the eastern part of the Yellow-Huaihe River Valley are expected to experience scattered showers or thundershowers, with localized heavy rain or storms, along with short-duration heavy rainfall, thunderstorms, strong winds, hail, and other severe convective weather.内蒙古东部、东北地区、华北及黄淮东部等地预计将出现分散性阵雨或雷阵雨，局地有大雨或暴雨，并伴有短时强降水、雷暴大风、冰雹等强对流天气。Sun Qianqian, a meteorological analyst at Weather China, a website affiliated with the CMA, said the main reason for so much rainfall recently in Northeast and North China is the frequent eastward movement of upper-level troughs and cold vortices.中国气象局官网“中国天气网”气象分析师孙倩倩表示，近期东北、华北地区降雨频繁，主要原因是高空槽和冷涡东移频繁。"These systems continuously guide cold air southward to collide with warm and moist airflows, bringing frequent rainfall and severe convective weather," she said.“这些系统不断引导冷空气南下，与暖湿气流交汇，带来频繁降雨和强对流天气，”她说。The alerts followed days of exceptional rain that have already saturated parts of Guangdong and Guangxi where over 600 mm of rainfall has been recorded.此轮预警发布前，广东和广西部分地区连日遭遇强降雨，累计雨量已超过600毫米，土壤含水量饱和。Heavy to torrential rain, with local extreme downpours, has hit northern Guangdong, the northern Pearl River Delta, and eastern coastal areas since Friday.自6月12日以来，粤北、珠三角北部及粤东沿海地区出现大到暴雨，局地出现极端强降水。As of 8 pm on Sunday, 13,283 people had been evacuated, according to the provincial emergency management department.据广东省应急管理部门消息，截至6月14日晚8时，已紧急转移安置13283人。Affected by the rain, some trains operating between Yangcun township and Huizhou Station on the Beijing-Kowloon Railway service were adjusted on Monday, with measures including passenger diversion, suspension, and breaking a journey, railway authorities said.铁路部门表示，受降雨影响，6月15日京九铁路杨村镇至惠州站间部分列车运行调整，采取迂回、停运和缩短行程等措施。Guangdong-based media Nanfang Plus reported that in Huilai county, Jieyang city, local residents reported relentless heavy rain since Saturday night, with floodwaters rising chest-deep for some ground-floor residents.广东媒体“南方+”报道，揭阳市惠来县居民反映，自6月13日晚起持续强降雨，部分一楼住户家中积水已齐胸深。China News Service reported that the Guangxi's hydrology center said on Monday that four rivers had exceeded warning levels due to heavy rainfall, with the highest surpassing the alert mark by 1.76 meters.中新社报道，广西水文中心6月15日表示，受强降雨影响，已有4条河流出现超警洪水，最高超警1.76米。meteorological disaster /ˌmiːtiərəˈlɒdʒɪkəl dɪˈzɑːstə/气象灾害torrential rain /təˈrenʃəl reɪn/暴雨severe convective weather /sɪˈvɪə kənˈvektɪv ˈweðə/强对流天气gusts /ɡʌsts/阵风scattered showers /ˈskætəd ˈʃaʊəz/分散性阵雨thundershowers /ˈθʌndəʃaʊəz/雷阵雨upper-level troughs /ˈʌpə ˈlevəl trɒfs/高空槽cold vortices /kəʊld ˈvɔːtɪsiːz/冷涡hydrology center /haɪˈdrɒlədʒi ˈsentə/水文中心

China's ports are expected to handle an average of 2.2 million inbound and outbound passenger trips per day during the upcoming Dragon Boat Festival holiday, from Friday to Sunday, marking an 11.7 percent increase from the same period last year, according to the National Immigration Administration on Tuesday. The daily peak is forecast to exceed 2.35 million trips.国家移民管理局周二发布消息，即将到来的端午假期（周五至周日）期间，全国口岸日均出入境客流量预计将达 220 万人次，较去年同期增长 11.7%，单日峰值预计将突破 235 万人次。Major international airports are expected to see slight increases in passenger flows. Shanghai Pudong International Airport is forecast to handle an average of 104,000 trips per day, while Beijing Capital International Airport and Guangzhou Baiyun International Airport in Guangdong province are each expected to handle 52,000 trips per day. Shenzhen Bao'an International Airport in Guangdong is expected to handle 21,000 trips per day, while Beijing Daxing International Airport and Chengdu Tianfu International Airport in Sichuan province are forecast to handle 19,000 and 17,000 trips per day, respectively.主要国际机场客流量预计将小幅增长。上海浦东国际机场日均出入境客流量预计达 10.4 万人次，北京首都国际机场、广东广州白云国际机场日均各 5.2 万人次，广东深圳宝安国际机场日均 2.1 万人次，北京大兴国际机场、四川成都天府国际机场日均分别为 1.9 万人次、1.7 万人次。Passenger flows at land ports neighboring Hong Kong and Macao are expected to increase significantly during the holiday, as dragon boat races and other major events will be held in Guangdong, Hong Kong, and Macao, while cross-border tourism and family visits are also expected to rise.粤港澳三地将举办龙舟赛等大型活动，叠加跨境旅游、探亲出行需求上升，毗邻港澳的陆路口岸假期客流量预计将大幅增长。The NIA has made special arrangements for border inspection work during the holiday, requiring authorities nationwide to strengthen monitoring of passenger flows, conduct accurate assessments of port traffic, and issue timely peak-flow alerts to help travelers plan their trips. The administration also reminded Chinese and foreign travelers to check port traffic and clearance conditions before departure and ensure their travel documents and visas remain valid.国家移民管理局已对假期边检工作作出专项部署，要求全国移民管理机构加强客流监测，精准研判口岸通行情况，及时发布高峰预警，方便旅客合理安排行程。同时提醒中外旅客出行前及时了解口岸客流和通关情况，确保证件签证真实有效。Chinese citizens traveling overseas should learn about the safety conditions and entry policies of their destinations in advance and avoid countries and regions with risks of Ebola virus disease outbreaks, the administration said.移民管理部门提醒，出境公民应提前了解目的地安全形势和入境政策，避免前往存在埃博拉病毒病疫情风险的国家和地区。inbound /ˈɪnbaʊnd/ adj. 入境的outbound /ˈaʊtbaʊnd/ adj. 出境的peak /piːk/ n. 峰值，高峰clearance /ˈklɪərəns/ n. 通关，清关

Fluent Fiction - Mandarin Chinese: Rekindling Friendship in Chengdu's Tea House Atmosphere Find the full episode transcript, vocabulary words, and more:fluentfiction.com/zh/episode/2026-06-09-07-38-19-zh Story Transcript:Zh: 在成都的一个舒适的下午，李伟走进了一家古色古香的茶馆。En: On a comfortable afternoon in Chengdu, Li Wei walked into an antique-style tea house.Zh: 这个茶馆弥漫着茉莉花茶和乌龙茶的浓郁香味，让人感到温暖和放松。En: The tea house was filled with the rich aromas of jasmine tea and oolong tea, making people feel warm and relaxed.Zh: 墙壁上挂满了四川风景的传统画作，舒缓的音乐在耳边轻轻流淌。En: The walls were adorned with traditional paintings of Sichuan landscapes, and soothing music flowed gently in the background.Zh: 这是李伟回国后第一次走进这家茶馆。En: This was Li Wei's first time visiting this tea house since returning home.Zh: 他刚从国外返回成都，这座城市对他而言既熟悉又陌生。En: He had just returned to Chengdu from abroad, and the city felt both familiar and strange to him.Zh: 他犹豫地环顾四周，心中有些忐忑。En: He hesitantly looked around, feeling a bit uneasy inside.Zh: 他知道这是陈开的茶馆，一个老朋友，他和小梅曾经最喜欢来这里喝茶聊天。En: He knew that this was Chen's tea house, an old friend, and a place he used to frequent with Xiaomei for tea and chats.Zh: 李伟深吸一口气，走到柜台前。En: Taking a deep breath, Li Wei approached the counter.Zh: “你好，陈。”他的声音中带着一丝紧张。En: "Hello, Chen." There was a hint of nervousness in his voice.Zh: 陈抬头，立刻认出了他。En: Chen looked up and immediately recognized him.Zh: “李伟！好久不见！”陈的声音带着惊喜和热情。En: "Li Wei! Long time no see!" Chen's voice was filled with surprise and enthusiasm.Zh: “快坐，我去泡一壶好茶给你。”En: "Come, sit down, I'll brew you a good pot of tea."Zh: 他们找了个角落坐下，李伟环顾四周，回忆起儿时与朋友们坐在这里的时光。En: They found a corner to sit in, and Li Wei glanced around, recalling the times he spent with friends here as a child.Zh: 不久，小梅也推门而入。En: Soon, Xiaomei also walked in through the door.Zh: 她的笑容还是那么明亮，“李伟！欢迎回家！”En: Her smile was just as bright as ever, "Li Wei! Welcome home!"Zh: 几个人坐在一起，初时有些拘谨。En: The group sat together, feeling a bit reserved at first.Zh: 李伟担心太多事情已经改变，他们可能再也无法像从前那般亲密。En: Li Wei worried that too much had changed and that they might never be as close as they once were.Zh: 但随着一杯杯温热的茶水，谈话渐渐畅快。En: But as they sipped cup after cup of warm tea, their conversation gradually became more relaxed.Zh: 小梅笑着提起他们小时候端午节一起包粽子的趣事，En: Xiaomei laughed as she brought up the fun they had making zongzi together during the Dragon Boat Festival when they were younger.Zh: “你还记得吗？李伟你总是把粽叶弄破，糯米全漏出来。”En: "Do you remember? Li Wei, you always tore the zongzi leaves, and all the sticky rice would spill out."Zh: 李伟也忍不住笑了，这些珍贵的回忆让他感到温暖。En: Li Wei couldn't help but laugh, these precious memories made him feel warm inside.Zh: 笑声充满了整个茶馆，仿佛把时间倒回到了过去，那份纯粹的友谊依然存在。En: Laughter filled the entire tea house, as if time had turned back to the past, and the pure friendship still existed.Zh: “我们今年一起去看龙舟赛吧！”小梅提议。En: "Let's go watch the dragon boat race together this year!" Xiaomei suggested.Zh: 李伟点头，他感觉自己终于找到了归属感，“好啊，一定。”En: Li Wei nodded, feeling he finally found a sense of belonging, "Sure, definitely."Zh: 故事结束时，他们愉快地离开茶馆，李伟内心的忐忑被久违的温暖所取代。En: As the story ends, they happily left the tea house, with Li Wei's initial unease replaced by a long-lost warmth.Zh: 他明白，无论世界怎么变化，真正的友谊始终跨越时间和距离，永远温暖如初。En: He understood that no matter how the world changes, true friendship always transcends time and distance, remaining as warm as ever. Vocabulary Words:comfortable: 舒适的antiques: 古色古香的aromas: 香味adorned: 挂满hesitantly: 犹豫地frequent: 最喜欢quintessential: 传统approached: 走到hint: 一丝nervousness: 紧张recognized: 认出enthusiasm: 热情glanced: 环顾recalling: 回忆起reserved: 拘谨uneasy: 忐忑transcends: 跨越soothing: 舒缓的decorate: 装饰hesitate: 犹豫initial: 初时reminisced: 怀旧precious: 珍贵的embrace: 拥抱transience: 短暂splendor: 辉煌hospitality: 款待immemorial: 古老的nostalgic: 怀旧的intimacy: 亲密

As millions of Chinese students feverishly prepare for the national college entrance examination, or gaokao, this weekend, parents across the country are turning to products symbolizing good fortune, fueling a surge in sales of flowers, pastries, clothing and other related merchandise.本周末全国数百万考生全力备战高考之际，各地家长纷纷选购寓意吉祥的好物，带动鲜花、糕点、服饰等相关商品销量暴涨。While the students are focusing on last-minute revisions, their parents are busy preparing "good luck" items as a way of offering encouragement and emotional support.考生抓紧考前最后时间查漏补缺，家长们则忙着置办各类祈福好物，以此为孩子鼓劲、送上心理慰藉。Among the most popular purchases are qipao, the traditional Chinese dress, which sounds similar to the phrase qikai desheng, meaning "to win from the outset". Florists are reporting strong demand for sunflowers, the Chinese name of which is associated with the idiom yiju duokui, or "winning first place in one stroke".旗袍是热门选购单品，因谐音“旗开得胜”备受青睐；向日葵同样订单火爆，其名称暗含“一举夺魁”的美好寓意，花店销量一路走高。"Success in the exam ultimately depends on the student's abilities. As parents, we simply want to offer our children our best wishes and some extra encouragement," said Zhang, a parent of a high school senior.高三考生家长张先生表示：“考试成败终究靠孩子自身实力，作为父母，我们只是想送上美好期许，多给孩子一份鼓励。”According to the owner of a qipao shop in Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan province, sales have risen sharply in recent weeks. Many mothers wear the outfit while accompanying their children to the examination centers. Customers are buying qipao specifically for the gaokao season, the owner told Fengmian News, a Sichuan-based media outlet. "Some even placed orders more than a month in advance."据四川本地媒体封面新闻报道，成都一位旗袍店店主介绍，近几周门店销量大幅攀升。不少妈妈会身着旗袍送考，大批顾客专门为高考选购旗袍，部分消费者甚至提前一个多月预订。Online retailers have also reported a surge in demand. One qipao store said that sales increased fivefold over the past week, with modernized versions of the traditional dress proving particularly popular.线上商家同样迎来订单热潮，一家旗袍网店称上周销量翻至原先五倍，改良新式旗袍最受消费者追捧。Also much sought after are sunflowers, which have become the season's top-selling floral product. Flower shops in several cities reported receiving orders for sunflower bouquets from parents and entire graduating classes alike.向日葵成为当季爆款鲜花，多地花店接到不少家长和毕业班集体预订的向日葵花束订单。Not to be left behind, pastry makers are also cashing in on the trend. Dingsheng gao, a traditional rice cake, the name of which literally means "certain victory", has become a seasonal bestseller. Bakery chains and retailers such as Beijing Daoxiangcun and Freshippo Bakery have launched special exam-themed gift boxes to cater to the huge demand.糕点商家也顺势抢抓商机，寓意“定胜”的传统定胜糕热销。北京稻香村、盒马烘焙等连锁糕点品牌纷纷推出高考限定礼盒，满足市场需求。Meanwhile, zongzi-shaped plush pendants inspired by the Dragon Boat Festival, which carry a pun associated with academic success, have become popular gifts for students.端午元素的粽子造型毛绒挂饰凭借谐音升学的美好彩头，成为热门考生礼品。Many handmade zongzi key chains featuring messages such as "admitted to a top university" have sold thousands of units on e-commerce platforms.印有“金榜题名”等字样的手工粽子钥匙扣，在各大电商平台销量破千。According to e-commerce platform JD, sales of stationery carrying phrases such as "pass every exam" have tripled compared with April, while searches for exam-related stationery products have increased nearly sevenfold.京东平台数据显示，印有“逢考必过”等祝福语的文具销量较4月增长两倍，高考相关文具搜索量暴涨近六倍。Industry observers said that the popularity of such products reflects parents' desire to support their children during a stressful period in their lives, rather than a belief in superstitions.业内分析人士表示，祈福商品热销并非源于迷信，而是家长在备考关键期想要陪伴、助力孩子的情感体现。However, they also cautioned parents not to create additional pressure for students through elaborate pre-exam preparations.但专家提醒家长，不必过度置办各类祈福用品，避免无形中给考生增添心理负担。Ultimately, the gaokao is an examination, an observer said, adding that what really matters is helping students stay calm and confident.业内人士称，高考只是一场考试，帮孩子稳住心态、保持自信才是重中之重。Sometimes, the observer said, the best support comes after the exam — a meal together, a trip, or simply letting children know they are loved regardless of the outcome.专家表示，最好的陪伴往往在考后：一顿团圆饭、一次短途出游，或是告诉孩子，无论成绩如何，家人的爱始终不变。plush /plʌʃ/毛绒的pendant /ˈpendənt/挂饰，吊坠pun /pʌn/谐音梗，双关语triple /ˈtrɪpl/（使）增至三倍sevenfold /ˈsevənfəʊld/七倍地superstition /ˌsuːpəˈstɪʃn/迷信

Humanoid robots performing martial arts, robotic dogs demonstrating their agility and robots dancing to foreign folk music have become some of the more unusual scenes on foreign leaders' trips to China this year.今年，外国领导人访华途中出现了一些不同寻常的场景：人形机器人打太极、机器狗灵活跳跃、机器人随外国民族音乐翩翩起舞。Behind the eye-catching moments is a broader trend: China's vast market and technological strength are drawing visiting leaders beyond formal talks in Beijing.这些引人注目的时刻背后，是一个更大的趋势：中国广阔的市场和技术实力正吸引着来访的领导人走出北京的外交会场。The latest is Thongloun Sisoulith, general secretary of the Lao People's Revolutionary Party Central Committee and Lao president, who is currently making a five-day state visit to China.最新一位是正在对中国进行为期五天国事访问的老挝人民革命党中央总书记、国家主席通伦·西苏里。During a trip to DEEP Robotics in Hangzhou, the capital of Zhejiang province, shortly after his arrival in China on Tuesday, Thongloun operated a robotic dog and praised it as "very good" and "very flexible".通伦6月2日抵华后不久便前往浙江省会杭州，参观了杭州云深处科技有限公司。他亲自操作了一只机器狗，称赞其“很好”、“非常灵活”。He also visited the headquarters of Chinese tech company Alibaba Group, where he learned how e-commerce platforms help Lao products reach consumers across the Chinese market.他还参观了中国科技公司阿里巴巴集团总部，了解了电商平台如何帮助老挝产品触达中国市场各地的消费者。Thongloun is not alone. Earlier this year, Serbian President Aleksandar Vucic, Pakistani Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif and German Chancellor Friedrich Merz also included Zhejiang in their China itineraries.通伦并非个例。今年早些时候，塞尔维亚总统亚历山大·武契奇、巴基斯坦总理夏巴兹·谢里夫和德国总理弗里德里希·默茨也都在访华行程中安排了浙江。The province, long seen as an important window on China's reform and opening-up, is also one of the first places where the country's digital economy took root and flourished.浙江长期被视为中国改革开放的重要窗口，也是我国数字经济最早生根发芽并蓬勃发展的地区之一。Observers said the visits are more than lighthearted moments or technology showcases on packed diplomatic itineraries. Against the backdrop of global industrial transformation, the trips reflect a conscious choice by countries to embrace China's innovation drive and connect with its strengths in the digital economy, they said.观察人士指出，这些访问不仅仅是紧张外交行程中的轻松时刻或技术展示。在全球产业转型的背景下，这些行程反映出各国主动对接中国创新驱动发展战略、借力中国数字经济优势的明确选择。Zhejiang has become one of the most visible stops in this process because it allows visiting leaders to see, in one place, how digital platforms, artificial intelligence, robotics and advanced manufacturing are being applied in real industries.浙江之所以成为这一过程中最受瞩目的站点之一，是因为它能令来访的领导人实地看到，数字平台、人工智能、机器人及先进制造等技术如何在实际产业中落地应用。Jian Junbo, a researcher with the Institute of International Studies at Fudan University in Shanghai, said the visits reflect foreign leaders' recognition of China's high-tech development, as well as their countries' desire to work with China and benefit from the momentum of its technological progress.复旦大学国际问题研究院研究员简军波表示，这些访问反映出外国领导人对中国高新技术发展的认可，也体现了他们与中国开展合作、借助中国技术进步势头获益的愿望。"They hope to carry out deeper and broader cooperation with China in areas such as sci-tech innovation, education and the application of technological achievements," Jian said.“他们希望与中方在科技创新、教育以及科技成果应用等领域开展更深层次、更广范围的合作，”简军波说。"The main purpose, and also their expectation, is to help drive the growth and development of their own domestic economies," Jian added.“其主要目的和预期，是希望能借此推动自身国内经济的增长与发展，”简军波补充道。Li Xiaopeng, a professor at Hangzhou City University, said: "Effective home-ground diplomacy is not just about meetings, group photos and signing ceremonies. It also requires letting guests see things for themselves — to see a country's development, its capabilities and where its future is heading."浙大城市学院教授李晓鹏表示：“有效的主场外交不仅是会谈、合影和签约，还需要让客人亲眼看一看——看看这个国家的发展、能力以及未来的走向。”Taking Hangzhou as an example, Li said the city has become a highly concentrated example of Chinese modernization. In 2025, Hangzhou's GDP exceeded 2.3 trillion yuan ($340 billion), while the added value of its core digital economy industries reached 678 billion yuan, official data shows.以杭州为例，李晓鹏表示，这座城市已成为中国式现代化的高度浓缩样本。官方数据显示，2025年杭州GDP突破2.3万亿元人民币（合3400亿美元），数字经济核心产业增加值达6780亿元。Behind the figures is an ecosystem that includes platform companies, robotics enterprises, AI startups and advanced manufacturers, forming a broader industrial chain that allows visiting leaders to see more than individual companies, Li said.李晓鹏说，这些数字背后是一个涵盖平台企业、机器人企业、人工智能初创公司及先进制造商的生态系统，形成了更长的产业链，使来访领导人看到的远不止单个企业。Zhejiang is not the only place where such out-of-capital trips have taken place.浙江并非外国领导人离京参访的唯一目的地。Foreign leaders visiting China have also traveled to places such as Shanghai, an international financial center; Xiong'an New Area in Hebei province; and Fujian, Shaanxi and Sichuan provinces — places that showcase Chinese modernization, coordinated regional development, poverty reduction and connectivity.访华的外国领导人还到访了上海这座国际金融中心、河北雄安新区，以及福建、陕西和四川等省份——这些地方展示着中国式现代化、区域协调发展、脱贫攻坚及互联互通建设成就。Jian, the researcher, said that in-person visits by foreign leaders play an irreplaceable role in helping them better understand the reasons behind China's economic success and its future development trends.复旦大学国际问题研究院研究员简军波表示，外国领导人亲身实地参访，在帮助他们更好地理解中国经济成功的原因及未来发展走向方面，发挥着不可替代的作用。"Such visits help them see China more objectively, dispel the interference of certain Western narratives, and put aside prejudice and stereotypes about China," he said.“这些实地参访有助于他们更客观地看待中国，排除某些西方叙事的干扰，摒弃对中国的偏见和刻板印象，”他说。While the Lao top leader was visiting Zhejiang, Yvette Cooper, the United Kingdom's foreign secretary, traveled to Shenzhen, the technology hub in South China's Guangdong province, on Wednesday for a trip focused on science and technology, after meetings in the Chinese capital.就在老挝最高领导人访问浙江期间，英国外交大臣伊薇特·库珀结束了在北京的会谈后，于6月3日前往华南科技重镇广东深圳，进行以科技为重点的参访。If Beijing is where diplomacy is conducted, Shenzhen is where China's industrial innovation takes shape on the ground, experts said.专家表示，如果说北京是开展外交活动的地方，那么深圳就是中国产业创新落地生根的地方。"Shenzhen now stands in the global spotlight, as it will host an important international meeting this year," said Cui Hongjian, a professor at Beijing Foreign Studies University's Academy of Regional and Global Governance.北京外国语大学区域与全球治理高等研究院教授崔洪建表示：“深圳目前备受国际关注，因为今年它将主办一场重要的国际会议。”The city is set to host the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation Economic Leaders' Meeting in November.今年11月，深圳将主办亚太经合组织（APEC）经济领导人会议。Cui said that Cooper's visit to the city and to technology companies shows that Britain's diplomacy toward China has a clear and targeted agenda — to make economic diplomacy a main thread of its China policy.崔洪建指出，库珀访问深圳及科技企业，表明英国对华外交有明确而具体的议程——让经济外交成为其对华政策的主线。draw /drɔː/吸引itinerary /aɪˈtɪnərəri/行程sci-tech innovation /ˈsaɪ tek ˌɪnəˈveɪʃən/科技创新Chinese modernization /tʃaɪˈniːz ˌmɒdənaɪˈzeɪʃən/中国式现代化international financial center /ˌɪntəˈnæʃənəl faɪˈnænʃəl ˈsentə/国际金融中心coordinated regional development /kəʊˈɔːdɪneɪtɪd ˈriːdʒənəl dɪˈveləpmənt/区域协调发展poverty reduction /ˈpɒvəti rɪˈdʌkʃən/脱贫攻坚dispel /dɪˈspel/消除narrative /ˈnærətɪv/叙事economic diplomacy /ˌiːkəˈnɒmɪk dɪˈpləʊməsi/经济外交main thread /meɪn θred/主线

The summit in Beijing produced a "constructive strategic stability" framework and a warming of tone between the two presidents. But heads of state can announce a multi-year horizon; somebody else has to operationalize it. Does the United States have the people — the linguists, the regional experts, the long-haul institution-builders — to do that work?This week, I chatted with two Texans answering that question from very different directions. David Firestein is the inaugural president and CEO of the George H.W. Bush Foundation for U.S.-China Relations in Houston. A career State Department officer who served four administrations and spent five years in Beijing, he's one of the few Americans concurrently affiliated with both a Republican and a Democratic presidential legacy institution. Eddie Conger is a retired Marine major and the founder and superintendent of International Leadership of Texas (IL Texas) — a public charter network of 26 campuses serving 26,000 K-12 students and now the largest K-12 Chinese language program in the country. In January, IL Texas became the first-ever K-12 recipient of the Bush China Foundation's George H.W. Bush Award for Educational Excellence in U.S.-China Relations, joining past honorees including Jimmy Carter and Henry Kissinger.The conversation tackles what David calls the Texas paradox: the same state that just forced its cities to dissolve their sister-city ties with China, that pioneered the closure of Confucius Institutes, and that has restricted Chinese land purchases is also where the country's deepest K-12 Mandarin pipeline is taking root — and where the most institutionally Texan China foundation has chosen to plant its flag. David and Eddie talk through engagement honestly (no straw-man Jeffersonian-democracy fantasies), the erroneous strategic assumptions undergirding U.S. China policy, what real national-language capacity would look like operationally, what they each saw in the Trump–Xi summit, and what 5,000 IL Texas graduates are already doing in the world.05:40 — Eddie's path: Marine infantryman to fifth-grade math teacher to the country's largest K-12 Mandarin program09:12 — David on when the Nixon-through-Obama engagement consensus broke (fall 2017) and how the lexicon shifted13:30 — Engagement honestly defined: what its architects actually believed vs. the Jeffersonian-democracy straw man18:30 — The Texas paradox: HB 128, sister cities, Confucius Institutes — and the country's biggest Mandarin program in the same state31:26 — Texas business, Tim Dunn, faith, and the gap between political rhetoric and where Texans actually are41:54 — The Defense Department safety/security story: when one Chinese word ate an entire bilateral agreement46:16 — David's six (or seven) erroneous strategic assumptions: China doesn't want to be us, and it has benefited more than anyone from the current order52:28 — What real national-language capacity would actually look like: NSLI, WALARA, and why the pipeline still runs through one Marine major in Texas01:06:07 — Reading the Beijing summit: the warmth, the "constructive strategic stability" framing, and whether Trump's Taiwan call could blow it all up01:17:10 — Where 5,000 IL Texas graduates are now — White House interns, service academies, doctors, entrepreneurs, and one high-schooler who pulled a stranger out of the surfPaying it ForwardEddie: Carlos Carrasco; Emily, who is heading to Taiwan this fall on a one-year high-school program; and another student bound for the University of Texas at Austin who will be sent to South Korea for a semester as a freshman — a rarity at UT. And he closes with Miles, a high-school senior and Marine scholarship recipient who, just weeks ago at a national competition in Florida, heard someone screaming for help in the ocean, called for a boogie board, and swam out to save a drowning swimmer while a crowd of adults stood on the beach. "Others before self," as Eddie puts it — the IL Texas mission statement made flesh.David:Frank Zhou, who just graduated from Harvard and chaired the Harvard College China Forum; Selina Gong, a recent graduate of the Harvard Kennedy School involved in its annual China conference; and Dean Dai, a recent graduate of Columbia's SIPA who has been deeply involved in many of the most significant student-run China conferences in the country — and who, as it turns out, was one of the organizers of the University of Chicago U.S.-China Economy and Business Summit where Kaiser spoke earlier this month.Recommendations:Eddie: John Pomfret, The Beautiful Country and the Middle Kingdom: America and China, 1776 to the Present (Henry Holt, 2016)David: Stephen Roach, Accidental Conflict: America, China, and the Clash of False Narratives (Yale, 2022)Kaiser: David Grann, The Wager: A Tale of Shipwreck, Mutiny and Murder (Doubleday, 2023)Also mentioned: Stephen R. Platt, The Raider: The Untold Story of a Renegade Marine and the Birth of U.S. Special Forces in World War II (Knopf, 2024) See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

We're joined by Jia (you may know them as @JiaAnimalSelfies), a Pittsburgh creator with roots in Chengdu, Sichuan, and a deep love for the kind of food that doesn't apologize for being specific. Jia shares their family's path from China to Pittsburgh, including stories shaped by the Cultural Revolution, immigration, and the restaurant work that helped make education possible. We talk about what “secret menu” really means, why it exists, and how to explore it without treating culture like a dare. For anyone chasing authentic Sichuan cuisine in Pittsburgh, Jia defines what mala actually is, how to prep your stomach before hot pot, and how sesame oil and soy milk fit into the tradition. Jia drops a smart Squirrel Hill hack for finding QR-code promos and ordering off-menu through delivery apps, plus local recommendations including dry hot pot at Little Corner Grill House and late-night options when the shift ends after midnight. If you like Pittsburgh food podcasts, Asian American stories, and real tips you can use tonight, hit play and come hungry. Subscribe to The Pittsburgh Dish, share this with a friend who always orders the same thing, and leave a review so more people can find the show.Support the show

Eric Olander on how the Global South is reading the Beijing summitsThis week I'm joined again by Eric Olander, founder of the China Global South Project, which runs the most indispensable English-language operation going for understanding China's engagement with Africa, Latin America, Southeast Asia, and the Middle East.I came in with a plan: map, region by region, how the capitals of the Global South were reading the back-to-back Trump and Putin visits to Beijing — relief at a steadier U.S.-China modus vivendi, or foreboding at a G2 condominium squeezing shut their room to maneuver. Eric dismantled the premise within ten minutes. The honest answer, he warned me, is that most of the Global South simply isn't watching the way we are — and the disappointment turned out to be the most interesting thing in the room. What looked like the absence of a story was the story. I'd built my questions around one assumption about what mattered; Eric had built his answers around another, and I cop to being schooled.Once you set the summit framing aside, what Eric's contributors are actually seeing comes into focus: Japan racing to recenter an Asia-Pacific security architecture, a region quietly de-risking from an unreliable United States, fresh cracks in the BRICS, Justin Yifu Lin's “three moves” for Chinese manufacturing, Latin America's “find out” phase, and a Gulf where the Chinese setback so many in Washington insist must exist simply isn't there. We get into all of it — and close on the summit as a remarkable piece of theater, the first since 1945 at which no one quite knew who the most powerful person in the room was.04:27 — The dominant mood: pro forma coverage, exhaustion, and bigger problems at home08:15 — Breaking news: the paused $14B Taiwan arms package and the canceled Colby trip11:15 — The dog that caught the truck: China and the costs of a receding U.S. umbrella13:00 — "Constructive strategic stability" — new equilibrium or just choreography?28:23 — The snub: Beijing sends only an ambassador to the BRICS meeting in New Delhi37:56 — Africa: tariff-free access, the trade imbalance, and Kenya's "collapsed" exports44:34 — Justin Yifu Lin's "three moves": move up-market, localize, move south51:00 — Latin America's "find out" phase in Panama, and very low China literacy57:35 — The Gulf after the war on Iran: who really won?Paying it Forward:Boston University's Global Development Policy (GDP) Research CenterRecommendationsEric: A “rabbit hole” of books on Xi Jinping, currently Party of One by Chun Han Wong (after Kevin Rudd's On Xi Jinping).Kaiser: Angine de Poitrine, a “microtonal math rock” duo from Quebec — think Frank Zappa meets King Crimson — possibly the thing to breathe new life into progressive rock.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

This week on Sinica, I speak with Andrew Seth Meyer, professor of history at CUNY Brooklyn College and the author of a remarkable new book from Oxford University Press, To Rule All Under Heaven: A History of Classical China from Confucius to the First Emperor. Sixteen years in the making, it's the first proper one-volume narrative history of the Warring States in English aimed at a general reader — a gap in the field that Andy has now decisively filled. We talk about why this period — the roughly 260 years between Confucius's death and Qin's unification in 221 BCE — really is the deepest layer of Chinese political history that still genuinely matters, and we try together to find the line between responsible historical reasoning about modern China and the kind of lazy essentialism that reaches for Han Feizi every time Xi Jinping makes a speech. Along the way we get into the displacement of the hereditary aristocracy by the shi, the Lüshi Chunqiu as a piece of political genius, why the standard caricature of “Legalist” Qin is wrong, and what it means that the Chinese state is still, in some real sense, running on operating software written in the 4th century BCE.8:14 – The 16-year gestation, why no general-reader Warring States book existed in English, and what made Andy think he could be the one to write it11:06 – The romanization headaches: Wei vs. Wey, King Zhao of Qin vs. King Zhao of Yan, and the special agonies of writing about early China for an English audience14:31 – Why he organized the book by state rather than strictly chronologically — and what that structure lets him do18:14 – The relevance question: how to take the deep continuity of Chinese political life seriously without falling into the orientalist “eternal China” trap25:52 – Why the Warring States is properly called a revolution: the destruction of Zhou-era hereditary aristocracy and the rise of the shi33:15 – Fukuyama's claim that Qin built the world's first genuinely modern state — is “modern” the right word?36:30 – Qin's 38 commanderies, why the radical version lasted only 15 years, and the Han retreat: aristocracy or regional autonomy?39:46 – Reading the Hundred Schools as embedded political actors rather than tidy textbook categories — and the Jixia Academy as ancient Brookings44:06 – The Lüshi Chunqiu as a brilliant piece of political propaganda, and what its tripartite cosmological structure was actually arguing52:31 – Why the cartoon-legalist version of the Qin is wrong: the 70 erudites, the Taishan stelae, and what the book-burning episode really was57:05 – The axial age question: pattern-matching or something real?1:00:40 – What the Warring States actually has to teach us about China in 2026: zhong guo as aspiration, not description1:05:08 – How the Warring States is taught in China and Taiwan today, and what archaeology is doing to the field1:08:36 – Constant self-reinvention as the real Chinese legacy, and why no plausible future China fully repudiates the CCPPaying it forward:Avital Rom (postdoc at Cambridge, early Chinese cultural history, editor of a forthcoming volume on disability and impairment in early China)Liang Cai (Notre Dame, new book on Han-era jurisprudence and legal traditions)Recommendations:Andy: Hadestown on Broadway — and Anaïs Mitchell's original concept albumKaiser: To Say Nothing of the Dog: or, How We Found the Bishop's Bird Stump at Last by Connie Willis (audiobook especially recommended)See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Fluent Fiction - Mandarin Chinese: Spicy Romance: A Hot Pot Date with Unexpected Twists Find the full episode transcript, vocabulary words, and more:fluentfiction.com/zh/episode/2026-05-20-07-38-19-zh Story Transcript:Zh: 在北京一个繁忙的火锅店里，热气腾腾，香味四溢。En: In a busy Beijing hot pot restaurant, steam billowed, and the aroma filled the air.Zh: 梅和健坐在一张小桌子旁，桌面上的锅里沸腾着他们点的火锅。En: Mei and Jian sat at a small table, with the hot pot they ordered boiling on the tabletop.Zh: 春天的气息正从窗外的枝头上慢慢爬进来，让人心生愉悦。En: The scent of spring was slowly creeping in from the branches outside the window, bringing joy to their hearts.Zh: 这是梅和健的第一次约会。En: This was Mei and Jian's first date.Zh: 梅是个美食博主，她希望这次约会能既有趣又难忘，也是一篇好博客的题材。En: Mei is a food blogger, and she hoped this date would be interesting and memorable, also serving as a topic for a good blog post.Zh: 她轻轻移动着手机，试图捕捉美丽的食物照片。En: She gently moved her phone, trying to capture beautiful photos of the food.Zh: 健则爱吃火锅，尤其是香辣火锅，但他对一种关键食材——花椒过敏，却一直没告诉梅。En: Jian, on the other hand, loved hot pot, especially spicy hot pot, but he was allergic to one key ingredient—huajiao (Sichuan pepper), which he hadn't mentioned to Mei.Zh: 店里人声鼎沸，谈笑风生。En: The restaurant was buzzing with conversation and laughter.Zh: 一位来自国外的游客李在热闹声中，兴奋地东张西望。En: A tourist from abroad, Li, excitedly looked around in the lively atmosphere.Zh: 不久后，她的目光落在了梅和健身上。En: Soon, her eyes landed on Mei and Jian.Zh: 她认为他们是当地的名人。En: She thought they were local celebrities.Zh: “真幸运！En: "How lucky!"Zh: ”李凑近他们，迫不及待地打招呼，“请问，我可以和你们合影吗？En: Li approached them eagerly and greeted them, "May I take a photo with you?"Zh: ”梅笑着看了一眼健，不知道该如何回应。En: Mei glanced at Jian with a smile, unsure how to respond.Zh: 这时，火锅的香气越发浓烈，健皱了皱眉。En: At that moment, the aroma of the hot pot became stronger, and Jian frowned.Zh: 梅注意到他说话比平常少了一些。En: Mei noticed he was speaking less than usual.Zh: “当然可以，”梅尽量保持礼貌。En: "Of course," Mei tried to remain polite.Zh: 她拍了几张合照，希望能尽快恢复和健的约会。En: She took a few photos, hoping to quickly resume the date with Jian.Zh: 李高兴地跟他们分享她来北京的经历，梅试着不耽误自己的工作。En: Li happily shared her experiences in Beijing with them, while Mei tried not to get distracted from her work.Zh: 然而，健的表情开始有些异样。En: However, Jian's expression started to change.Zh: 他在锅里翻找着其他食材，但不小心吃到了花椒。En: As he searched through the pot for other ingredients, he accidentally ate huajiao.Zh: 他开始出现轻微的过敏反应，脸有些红。En: He began to have a mild allergic reaction, his face turning slightly red.Zh: 梅注意到了，立即放下手机，关切地问：“你还好吗？En: Mei noticed and immediately put down her phone, asking with concern, "Are you okay?"Zh: ”梅迅速做出了决定。En: Mei quickly made a decision.Zh: 她对李说：“抱歉，我们得稍微休息一下。En: She said to Li, "Sorry, we need to take a short break."Zh: ”然后，她专心地照顾健，帮助他缓解不适。En: Then, she focused on taking care of Jian, helping him alleviate his discomfort.Zh: 混乱过后，梅灵光一现，将发生的一切写进了她的新博文，用一种幽默的方式，把这段意外的经历记录下来。En: After the chaos, Mei had an idea and wrote about everything that happened in her new blog post, recording this unexpected experience with humor.Zh: 健看着梅，在忙乱中依旧从容的样子，感到她的幽默和适应能力让人着迷。En: Jian watched Mei, captivated by her humor and adaptability even amidst the commotion.Zh: 他们的第一次约会虽然有些出其不意，但也因此显得特别且真实。En: Although their first date was a bit unexpected, it also made it special and genuine.Zh: 梅在这次经验中学会了更灵活地应对变化，这让她与健之间的关系更加亲近。En: Through this experience, Mei learned to handle changes more flexibly, bringing her and Jian closer together.Zh: 在春天温暖的空气中，他们相视一笑，约定下次再聚，或许依然是在火锅店。En: In the warm spring air, they exchanged smiles, promising to meet again, perhaps once more at the hot pot restaurant. Vocabulary Words:billow: 腾腾aroma: 香味creeping: 爬进buzzing: 人声鼎沸celebrities: 名人eagerly: 迫不及待allergic: 过敏ingredient: 食材expression: 表情reaction: 反应alleviate: 缓解discomfort: 不适humor: 幽默adaptability: 适应能力flexibly: 灵活地genuine: 真实capture: 捕捉venue: 场地commotion: 混乱focus: 集中attention: 注意力unexpected: 出其不意scent: 气息photography: 摄影tenderly: 轻轻resume: 恢复tourist: 游客chaos: 混乱consume: 食用opt: 选择

Marriage: Mass weddings held across regions to promote simple ceremonies多地举办集体婚礼倡导婚事简办Couples across China are rushing to tie the knot on Wednesday and Thursday — May 20 and May 21 — two dates that sound like "I love you" when said aloud in Mandarin, with marriage registration slots fully booked weeks in advance in several major cities.全国多地情侣争相在5月20日和5月21日登记结婚——这两个日期的中文谐音均为“我爱你”。多个大城市的婚姻登记预约名额早在数周前就已约满。In Chinese, "520" is pronounced similarly to the Mandarin equivalent of "I love you", making May 20 a sought-after day for registering marriages. The following day, May 21 — or "521" — carries a similar meaning, offering a popular and much-needed alternative.在中文里，“520”的发音与“我爱你”相近，因此5月20日成为情侣登记结婚的热门日子。紧随其后的5月21日（“521”）同样寓意美好，为那些错过首日的新人提供了一个同样受欢迎且急需的备选。All slots in the 15 marriage registration offices in Guangzhou, Guangdong province, were fully booked for May 20 by the first week of this month, as they were in Shen­zhen. In Nanjing, Jiangsu province, more than 1,400 couples had reserved May 20 as their chosen date by late April, with scenic registration sites such as the Confucius Temple already at capacity. Some locations were fully booked for May 21 as well.截至5月第一周，广东省广州市15个婚姻登记处5月20日的预约名额已全部约满，深圳的情况同样如此。在江苏省南京市，截至4月底已有超过1400对新人预约了5月20日登记，夫子庙等风景优美的登记点早已满额。部分登记点5月21日的名额也已约满。Wuxi, another city in Jiangsu, has no online slots left for May 20, though local authorities said that couples could still register as walk-ins.江苏省无锡市的5月20日线上预约名额也已告罄。不过当地民政部门表示，新人仍可现场直接办理登记。For one Beijing-based couple, securing a May 20 slot required a midnight digital scramble. Guo Xiangyu, 30, a doctoral student from Xi'an in Shaanxi province, and Yan Xin, 34, an internet worker from Baoji, also in Shaanxi, booked their appointment two weeks in advance. The couple and both sets of parents logged into the system at midnight across PCs and mobile devices, and Yan managed to secure a slot. "We expected it to be crowded, so we feel very lucky," she said.对北京的一对新人而言，抢到5月20日的登记名额需要一场午夜“数字鏖战”。30岁的郭翔宇（音译）是陕西西安人，目前是一名博士生；34岁的闫昕（音译）来自陕西宝鸡，从事互联网工作。两人提前两周就预约了登记。当天午夜，他们和双方父母分头用电脑和手机登录系统，最终闫昕成功抢到了名额。“我们早知道会很火爆，所以感觉特别幸运，”闫昕说。In preparation, the couple had completed free premarital medical checks at a Beijing hospital, taken registration photos at a commercial studio and hired a photographer to document their special day near the civil affairs bureau.为迎接这一天，两人事先在北京一家医院完成了免费婚检，在商业摄影机构拍好了登记照，还专门聘请了一位摄影师，计划在民政局附近记录下这个特殊的日子。The pair met via social media, bonding over photography and skiing, and dated for two-and-a-half years before deciding to marry. They chose May 20 partly because its homophone "520" is a declaration of love in Chinese and is often seen as a Valentine's Day equivalent. "We want to celebrate our anniversary and 520 together," Yan said.两人通过社交媒体相识，因摄影和滑雪结缘，恋爱两年半后决定携手步入婚姻。他们选择5月20日登记，部分原因在于“520”谐音“我爱你”，被视为中国的情人节。“我们想把结婚纪念日和520一起庆祝，”闫昕说。Both originally from Shaanxi but living in Beijing for work and study, the couple benefited from a revised marriage regulation introduced in May 2025. The rule ended a decades-old restriction that required people to register their marriage in a place where either spouse's household registration was recorded. Now, couples can marry anywhere in the country without presenting their household registration booklet. "It saved us time and travel costs, and made us feel more connected to Beijing," Guo said.两人籍贯均为陕西，但因工作和学习长期生活在北京。2025年5月出台的婚姻登记新规让他们受益良多。这项政策打破了延续数十年的限制——过去，新人必须在其中一方的户籍所在地才能办理结婚登记。如今，情侣可以在全国任意城市登记结婚，且无需出示户口本。“新规为我们节省了时间和路费，也让我们对北京更有归属感，”郭翔宇说。Thursday or May 21 is the choice of many this year as it coincides with xiao man, or Grain Buds, a traditional Chinese solar term. Song Jian, an engineer from Sichuan province, chose this date over May 20. "The solar term carries a beautiful saying — a modest half-full state is better than perfection," he said. "That fits our relationship well. You don't have to pursue perfection in life; being content with what you have is enough."今年，5月21日也成为许多新人的首选，因为这一天恰逢中国传统二十四节气中的“小满”。来自四川的工程师宋健（音译）便放弃了5月20日，选择了这一天。“小满这个节气有一句美好的说法——‘人生小满胜万全'，”他说，“这正好契合我们的感情。人生不必事事追求完美，知足常乐就够了。”Multiple provincial-level regions have also organized mass wedding ceremonies on and around the two dates to promote simple ceremonies.多个省份还在5月20日及前后组织了集体婚礼，倡导婚事简办的新风尚。In Hainan province, collective weddings will be held on Wednesday at coastal venues, including Coconut Dream Corridor in Sanya and the Wenchang Spacecraft Launch Site. Zhejiang province hosted a ceremony on Saturday featuring 520 couples, with a main venue in Hangzhou linked to dozens of sub-venues across the province. Guangdong organized military-civilian collective weddings in Guangzhou on Monday, Zhaoqing on Sunday, Foshan on Friday and Zhongshan on Saturday, involving more than 1,000 couples.海南省于5月20日在三亚椰梦长廊、文昌航天发射场等海滨场地举办了集体婚礼。浙江省于上周末举行了一场集体婚礼，共有520对新人参与，主会场设在杭州，与省内数十个分会场联动。广东省则分别在广州、肇庆、佛山、中山举办了军地共建集体婚礼，参与新人超过1000对。"This collective wedding is a celebration that's both sweet and green, without the complicated preparations," one groom, Zhong Zhiyuan, who was part of the Guangzhou weddings, was quoted by the local media as saying.据当地媒体报道，参与广州集体婚礼的一位新郎钟志远（音译）说：“这场集体婚礼既甜蜜又‘环保'，省去了繁杂的筹备。”But not everyone is keen on getting married on popular dates. Yang Xinran, a marketing professional from the Chinese mainland who now works in the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region, registered her marriage in Beijing last September and deliberately avoided peak days. "As working people, we have to prioritize our schedules," she said.不过，并非所有人都热衷在热门日子结婚。来自内地、现于香港特别行政区从事市场营销工作的杨欣然，去年9月在北京登记结婚时就特意避开了高峰期。“我们都是有工作的人，得优先考虑自己的时间安排，”她说。Yang and her husband picked several possible dates based on their work calendars, then let their parents make the final call. "Even booking a restaurant for an anniversary is hard enough on popular dates — no need to add to the trouble," she said.杨欣然（音译）和丈夫根据各自的工作日程，先圈定几个可能的日期，最后让父母拍板决定。“热门日子光是预约餐厅庆祝纪念日就已经够难了，没必要再给自己添麻烦，”她说。In the past year, authorities processed more than 682,000 interprovincial marriages, official data showed. China saw a significant surge in marriage registrations in 2025, with 6.763 million couples registering, a 10.76 percent year-on-year increase.官方数据显示，过去一年，全国共办理跨省婚姻登记超过68.2万对。2025年，全国结婚登记数量显著回升，共有676.3万对新人登记结婚，同比增长10.76%。slot /slɒt/名额，时段sought-after /ˈsɔːt ɑːftə/热门的，抢手premarital medical checks /priːˈmærɪtəl ˈmedɪkəl tʃeks/婚前医学检查，婚检civil affairs bureau /ˈsɪvəl əˈfeəz ˈbjʊərəʊ/民政局keen on /kiːn ɒn/热衷，喜爱prioritize /praɪˈɒrɪtaɪz/优先考虑

This week I'm sharing the fourth and final installment from the day-long conference convened by the Institute for America, China, and the Future of Global Affairs (ACF) at Johns Hopkins SAIS on April 3rd in Washington — “The China Debate We're Not Having: Politics, Technology, and the Road Ahead.” The first three episodes featured Jessica Chen Weiss's opening remarks and the panels on what China wants, what the United States wants, and tech rivalry and competing visions of the future. This final installment is a fireside conversation between Henry Farrell and Alondra Nelson, followed by Jessica's closing remarks.Once again, my deep thanks to Jessica Chen Weiss, ACF's inaugural faculty director, for organizing this terrific conference and for so generously letting me share this audio with Sinica listeners.Henry Farrell, the Stavros Niarchos Foundation Agora Institute Professor of International Affairs at SAIS, sits down with Alondra Nelson — Harold F. Linder Professor of Social Science at the Institute for Advanced Study and former Director of the White House Office of Science and Technology Policy — for what turns out to be the day's most generative reframing of the AI race. Henry begins by asking how it is that ideas once confined to 1980s science fiction — the singularity, AGI, brains-in-vats — have come to anchor mainstream American AI policy discourse. Alondra traces the genealogy back to the “Californian ideology” and the long history of outré thinking in Silicon Valley, but her real point is that something has shifted: U.S. negative sentiment around AI has been climbing and plateauing high since 2022, even as adoption has spread — the opposite of the usual technology-acceptance curve, and the opposite of what's happening in China, Nigeria, or Brazil.From there the conversation opens up into what I found to be its richest vein: the contrast between a Cartesian, disembodied American conception of AI — “we're working on the brains,” as Sam Altman put it when OpenAI shut down its robotics team in 2022 — and a more embodied approach that integrates the cognitive and the physical, which is part of what's powered China's advances in advanced manufacturing and robotics. Alondra is sharp on the costs of the brain-in-a-vat framing: it treats AI as a state of exception in which existing laws and institutions somehow don't apply, and it lets us float aspirational claims (”AI will cure cancer”) that elide all the clunky institutional stewardship actually required to get from aspiration to outcome.She also offers an incisive reading of the Trump administration's AI policy — which, she argues, is misleadingly described as “deregulatory.” Between export controls, the golden share in Intel, immigration restrictions on STEM talent, and the administration's tight stewardship of who wins and who loses in the AI ecosystem, this is industrial policy by another name — and a narrowing of democratic input over decisions of enormous infrastructural consequence.The conversation closes with Henry asking what a small-d democratic successor administration ought to do, and Alondra's answer is bracingly practical: get rid of the state of exception, take the material supply chain of AI seriously (data centers, electricity, critical minerals, communities), let state-level policy generate evidence about what works, and aim for high-watermark aspirations — North Stars, in the spirit of the AI Bill of Rights — rather than pretending the technology itself will deliver our values.Jessica then offers her closing remarks, thanking the panelists, previewing the ACF Insights Series, and putting out the call for new junior fellows at the Institute.Participants:Alondra Nelson, Harold F. Linder Professor of Social Science, Institute for Advanced Study; former Director, White House Office of Science and Technology PolicyHenry Farrell, Stavros Niarchos Foundation Agora Institute Professor of International Affairs, Johns Hopkins SAISClosing remarks: Jessica Chen Weiss, David M. Lampton Professor of China Studies and Inaugural Faculty Director, ACFSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

This week on Sinica, I chat with Ali Wyne, Senior Research and Advocacy Adviser for U.S.-China at the International Crisis Group, just hours after President Trump's plane left Chinese airspace at the end of a three-day state visit to Beijing. We dig into the new framework Xi Jinping put on the table — what Beijing is calling 中美建设性战略稳定关系, a "constructive China-U.S. relationship of strategic stability" — and ask whether it's a genuine doctrine of mutual restraint or a rhetorical tripwire that future American moves can be characterized as having violated. Ali and I work through Foreign Minister Wang Yi's morning-after media briefing, including his striking claim that the U.S. side now "does not accept" Taiwan independence — a notable shift from the standard American formulation. We talk about what Trump actually said on Taiwan in his Air Force One press gaggle, the gap between Trump's account of Xi's private remarks on Iran and what Beijing is willing to say publicly, and whether AI can serve as a durable basis for cooperation coming out of the summit. We also turn to the American domestic side: the bind Democrats find themselves in trying to critique Trump's China engagement without out-hawking him, the generational data showing a striking gap in American attitudes toward China that transcends partisan division, and the question of when that shift in mass opinion actually starts to bite on policy.Full podcast page with timestamps and links forthcoming! Just wanted to get this out quickly.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Les records de température enregistrés actuellement en Asie ne relèvent plus seulement de l'urgence climatique. Ils révèlent l'émergence d'un nouveau risque économique mondial: celui d'une crise provoquée par la chaleur. Entre flambée des prix de l'énergie, tensions sur l'agriculture et ralentissement industriel, le continent asiatique fait face à un double choc, climatique et pétrolier, dont les conséquences pourraient rapidement dépasser ses frontières. Ces derniers jours, les records de température se multiplient en Asie. À première vue, cela pourrait sembler relever exclusivement de l'actualité climatique et environnementale. Pourtant, ce qui se joue aujourd'hui sur le continent asiatique dépasse largement cette seule dimension. L'Asie est en train de devenir le laboratoire d'un nouveau type de crise économique : une crise provoquée par la chaleur. Pourquoi l'Asie est-elle particulièrement vulnérable ? D'abord parce que le continent est fortement exposé aux épisodes climatiques extrêmes. Ensuite parce qu'il concentre des densités de population parmi les plus élevées du monde, des systèmes agricoles encore très dépendants des cycles naturels et des infrastructures souvent fragiles face aux événements météorologiques. Mais surtout, l'Asie demeure le moteur industriel de la planète. Une large partie de la production mondiale y est concentrée. Cela signifie qu'à chaque ralentissement asiatique, c'est l'ensemble de l'économie mondiale qui finit, d'une manière ou d'une autre, par en ressentir les effets. Or aujourd'hui, la région affronte un double choc. Le premier est énergétique. Avec les tensions au Moyen-Orient, le prix du pétrole repart à la hausse, renchérissant les coûts de production et de transport dans des économies très dépendantes des importations d'hydrocarbures. Le second est climatique. Les vagues de chaleur extrême viennent désormais aggraver cette pression déjà existante. Un double choc aux conséquences très concrètes, pour les populations comme pour les économies nationales. À lire aussiPourquoi les prix de l'électricité deviennent négatifs en Europe En Inde, la chaleur fait exploser la demande d'électricité et menace l'agriculture L'exemple de l'Inde illustre parfaitement cette nouvelle réalité économique. Ces dernières semaines, certaines régions du pays ont enregistré des températures dépassant les 47 degrés. Résultat immédiat, la consommation électrique a explosé. Face à ces chaleurs extrêmes, climatiseurs et ventilateurs tournent à plein régime, faisant grimper la demande à des niveaux records. Pour répondre à cette pression, les centrales thermiques alimentées au pétrole ou au gaz doivent elles aussi fonctionner à plein régime, ce qui accroît encore la dépendance énergétique du pays et renchérit la facture. Mais le problème ne s'arrête pas là. La chaleur menace directement l'agriculture. L'Inde dépend de la mousson pour nourrir plus d'un milliard d'habitants. Or avec des températures extrêmes, un temps plus sec et le retour probable du phénomène El Niño, les risques de baisse des récoltes augmentent fortement. Et lorsque les récoltes chutent, ce sont les prix alimentaires qui montent. Autrement dit, la chaleur devient inflationniste. Cette dynamique est déjà visible ailleurs en Asie. Aux Philippines, l'inflation dépasse 7 %. Au Pakistan, elle est déjà à deux chiffres. Dans ces économies, si les récoltes locales souffrent de la sécheresse tandis que les importations deviennent plus coûteuses à cause du pétrole, la double peine est immédiate : hausse des prix, pression sur le pouvoir d'achat et risque de ralentissement économique. Quand la chaleur menace aussi l'industrie mondiale On pourrait penser que des températures élevées favorisent naturellement les énergies renouvelables, notamment le solaire. C'est vrai en partie. Mais cette lecture reste incomplète. Une part importante de l'électricité asiatique repose encore sur l'hydroélectricité. En Inde, au Vietnam ou dans plusieurs provinces chinoises, les barrages jouent un rôle clé dans l'approvisionnement énergétique. Le problème est simple. Lorsqu'il fait plus chaud et qu'il pleut moins, les barrages produisent moins d'électricité. Ce phénomène n'a rien de théorique. Il s'est déjà produit en 2022 dans le Sichuan, en Chine. Une sécheresse historique avait alors réduit la production hydroélectrique, perturbant le fonctionnement d'usines travaillant notamment pour Apple ou Toyota. Ce précédent est révélateur. Le climat peut désormais interrompre la production industrielle mondiale. Ce qui semble d'abord être un problème local devient très vite un sujet international. Car l'Asie reste l'usine du monde. Si les usines ralentissent, les chaînes d'approvisionnement se tendent. Les pièces arrivent plus tard en Europe ou aux États-Unis, les coûts logistiques augmentent et, au bout de la chaîne, les prix montent. Certains économistes ont déjà donné un nom à ce phénomène : l'inflation par la chaleur, ou « heatflation ». Car le thermomètre ne mesure plus seulement la météo. Il mesure désormais aussi la santé de nos économies. Et visiblement, elles commencent à avoir très chaud. À lire aussiLa Corée du Sud revoit son système d'alerte météo face à la multiplication des canicules

BUFFALO, NY — May 15, 2026 — A new #review was #published in Volume 18 of Aging-US on May 4, 2026, titled “Cellular senescence: from pathogenic mechanisms to precision anti-aging interventions.” The study was led by first author Jian Deng and corresponding author Dong Yang from the Department of Targeting Therapy and Immunology, Cancer Center, West China Hospital, Sichuan University, Chengdu, Sichuan, China. In this comprehensive review, the authors examine how cellular senescence contributes to aging and age-related disease across multiple organ systems, while also highlighting the emerging complexity and functional diversity of senescent cell populations. Traditionally, senescent cells have been viewed primarily as harmful byproducts of aging, characterized by irreversible cell-cycle arrest and chronic inflammatory signaling. However, growing evidence suggests that some senescent cells also play beneficial physiological roles in tissue repair, embryonic development, and maintenance of tissue homeostasis. The review outlines how senescence develops in major tissues including the liver, lungs, kidneys, heart, adipose tissue, brain, and skin. Across these organs, aging-related cellular dysfunction is driven by a combination of oxidative stress, mitochondrial dysfunction, DNA damage, chronic inflammation, metabolic stress, telomere shortening, and environmental insults such as ultraviolet radiation and pollution. The authors describe how senescent cells accumulate in highly specialized cell populations—including hepatocytes, endothelial cells, fibroblasts, macrophages, astrocytes, and epithelial cells—where they can disrupt normal tissue architecture and promote chronic disease progression. Importantly, the article emphasizes that senescent cells are highly heterogeneous and should not be treated as a uniform population. Depending on the tissue context and biological environment, senescent cells may exert either protective or harmful effects. For example, certain senescent cells may help limit fibrosis or support wound healing, whereas others drive chronic inflammation, metabolic dysfunction, tissue degeneration, and cancer progression. This growing recognition of functional heterogeneity has prompted a major shift in anti-aging research away from indiscriminate elimination of senescent cells toward more selective and precision-based therapeutic strategies. “Based on these insights, this review summarizes the induction mechanisms of cellular senescence and the subsequent evolution of their functional phenotypes across diverse tissues.” Full press release - https://www.aging-us.com/news-room/precision-anti-aging-strategies-aim-to-target-harmful-senescent-cells-while-preserving-beneficial-ones Paper DOI - https://doi.org/10.18632/aging.206375 Corresponding author - Dong Yang – yangdong@wchscu.cn Abstract video - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HkJRwF8mp4A Keywords - cellular senescence, aging mechanisms, functional heterogeneity, precision anti-aging To learn more about the journal, please visit www.Aging-US.com​​ and connect with us on social media at: Bluesky - bsky.app/profile/aging-us.bsky.social ResearchGate - www.researchgate.net/journal/Aging-1945-4589 X - twitter.com/AgingJrnl Facebook - www.facebook.com/AgingUS/ Instagram - www.instagram.com/agingjrnl/ LinkedIn - www.linkedin.com/company/aging/ Reddit - www.reddit.com/user/AgingUS/ Pinterest - www.pinterest.com/AgingUS/ YouTube - www.youtube.com/@Aging-US Spotify - open.spotify.com/show/1X4HQQgegjReaf6Mozn6Mc MEDIA@IMPACTJOURNALS.COM

This week on Sinica, in a special episode recorded as a live joint webcast with NYRB/Poets and Equator Magazine, I sit down with Eleanor Goodman — poet, scholar, research associate at Harvard's Fairbank Center, and one of the most accomplished translators working between Chinese and English — to talk about the extraordinary Sichuan-born poet Zheng Xiaoqiong (郑小琼).Born in 1980 in a mountain village, trained as a nurse, Zheng joined the great tide of internal migration in her early 20s, ending up on the assembly line of a hardware factory in Dongguan in the Pearl River Delta. She picked up a pen after a workplace injury — part of her finger taken off by a lathe — and what came out across poems, essays, and reportage has made her one of the most singular voices in contemporary Chinese literature. Her trajectory from the assembly line to the editorial desk of an official literary magazine is, as far as I know, essentially without parallel.Eleanor has been translating Zheng since around 2013, and the partnership they've built has given Anglophone readers access to a body of work that defies easy categorization — at once intimate and historical, ethnographic and lyric, tender and unsparing. We talk about how they met, about Zheng's resistance to the "migrant worker poet" label, about the bodily feminism that runs through her verse, about her unmoralizing portraits of sex workers, about lost youth and the way the body keeps the ledger of factory time. Eleanor reads Zheng's poem "Woman Worker: Youth Pinned to a Workstation" (女工: 被固定在卡桌上的青春) in both Chinese and her English translation — and it is, every time, devastating.Huge thanks to Abigail Dunn at NYRB Poets and Ratik Asokan at Equator for organizing this conversation and for inviting me to host it, to Eleanor for her generosity and her brilliance, and most of all to Zheng Xiaoqiong, whose voice — even when she cannot be with us in person — comes through with absolute clarity.Eleanor's translation of Zheng Xiaoqiong's In the Roar of the Machine is available from NYRB Poets. The Equator selections, drawn from Zheng's long-form prose, are available at Equator Magazine.05:07 — How Eleanor and Zheng met in 2013, and why a book had to happen08:14 — Navigating the awkward proposition of China for the Western left10:50 — Zheng's trajectory: from a Sichuan village to the assembly line to the editor's desk16:29 — Resisting the "migrant worker poet" (打工诗人) label20:47 — Conventions of the genre: exhaustion, iron, lost identity, the screw in the machine24:58 — Who gets translated into English, and why28:34 — The translator's ethics: how do you render a factory poem honestly?32:42 — Eleanor reads "Woman Worker, Youth Pinned to a Workstation" (女工被固定在卡桌上的青春) in Chinese and English37:14 — Zheng's bodily feminism: irregular periods, a different way of caring40:37 — Lost youth and the passage of time44:36 — Sex work and women's labor: portraits without moralizing49:59 — Whose work actually counts in Chinese urban discourse?52:45 — Why Zheng Xiaoqiong wasn't able to join us, and how censorship really works54:44 — Rose Courtyard and what's next: classical allusions, ancestral homes, embroidering grandmothers57:39 — Audience Q&A: American worker poets, the WeChat communities of migrant writers, and Zheng's standing in Chinese lettersSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Last time we spoke about the battle of West Suiyuan. The Ma Clique, Muslim warlords controlling Northwest China, led by Ma Hongkui and Ma Hongbin, rebuffed Japanese overtures to ally, citing historical grievances like the 1900 invasion. Driven by patriotism, they aligned with the Nationalists, reorganizing forces into the 17th Army Group. In 1938, Ma Hongbin commanded West Suiyuan defenses, building fortifications in harsh desert and mountain terrain, blending cavalry tactics with modern training despite equipment shortages. In January 1940, Japanese and puppet troops advanced from Baotou, occupying Wuyuan and Linhe. Chinese forces, including Fu Zuoyi's 35th Army and Ma's 81st Army, employed guerrilla and mobile warfare. A major counterattack in March recaptured Wuyuan, killing Lt. Gen. Mizukawa and thousands, forcing Japanese retreat. Through ambushes and night raids, the Chinese recovered territories, securing Soviet aid routes and the Shaanxi-Gansu-Ningxia region. Over 2,000 Ningxia soldiers perished, their sacrifices underscoring peripheral fronts' role in national resistance.   #200 The battle of Yaoyi Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. After capturing Wuhan, the Japanese army had already stretched itself dangerously thin. Most regular and Class A reserve divisions were committed to the front, yet they failed to annihilate the main Chinese force. Despite losing its core industrial and resource regions, the Nationalist government in Chongqing refused Japan's peace terms. Japan now found itself trapped in the very protracted war it had desperately sought to avoid. The logical Japanese response was to halt major advances, consolidate control over occupied areas, and conduct limited offensives to pressure Chiang Kai-shek into negotiations—essentially repeating the post-Nanjing strategy of late 1937. But the situation had deteriorated sharply: occupied territory had at least doubled, Japanese garrisons were inadequate, and strategic reserves were nearly exhausted. What might have been prudent a year earlier had become plainly unwise by late 1938.   To stabilize the front, Japan reorganized its China Expeditionary Army at the end of 1938. Large numbers of newly raised independent mixed brigades and lower-quality Class B reserve divisions were sent to relieve veteran regular and Class A divisions. The relieved units were either demobilized back to Japan or shifted north to reinforce the Kwantung Army against the Soviet threat.   By early 1940 Japan maintained roughly 24 divisions, 21 independent mixed brigades, and 2 cavalry brigades in China proper (excluding Manchuria), totaling nearly 800,000 ground troops. The enormous scale and expense strained the home economy severely. Even so, the vast occupied zones could not be effectively controlled: divisions often held only a single mobile battalion while dispersing the rest into scattered platoon- and squad-sized outposts. Guerrilla activity by both Nationalist and Communist forces not only persisted but intensified, occasionally clashing with each other in "friction" incidents.   Beyond mere occupation, Japan sought to wear down Chinese strength. With most elite Central Army units held in reserve in the southwest or around Wuhan, Japanese local offensives targeted the Fifth and Ninth War Zones, aiming to methodically destroy Chiang's best troops. Thus, while other Japanese armies focused on garrison relief and brigade substitution, the 11th Army—still holding Wuhan with seven divisions and three brigades—remained the main offensive instrument. In 1939 it captured Nanchang, then mounted major operations against the Fifth War Zone (Suizao Campaign) and Ninth War Zone (First Battle of Changsha). Except for the seizure of Nanchang, however, these offensives inflicted only limited and temporary damage on Chinese forces.   Japan's domestic economy was in even worse shape. In early 1937, it had approved a massive 2.4 billion yen naval and army rebuilding program aimed at countering the United States and Russia, but implementation had barely started when the Sino-Japanese War erupted. The conflict generated enormous war costs while military expansion continued unabated, rapidly draining the Bank of Japan's gold reserves. By the end of 1938, those reserves (valued at just 1.35 billion yen) had shrunk by more than two-thirds. To fund the Battle of Wuhan that year, Japan postponed key elements of the rebuilding plan. After Wuhan fell, the Army revised its wartime reorganization: the original target of forty divisions grew to fifty-five by early 1938, then to sixty-five divisions plus 164 Army Air Force squadrons by 1942. The funding required to equip and stockpile for this expansion escalated steadily; the 1939 expansion budget alone demanded 1.8 billion yen, pushing Japanese finances to the breaking point.   Japan repeatedly sought a way out of China, but its peace terms remained far beyond what Chongqing would accept, leaving negotiations stalled. Efforts to install puppet regimes in North and Central China—culminating in the Wang Jingwei government in 1940—aimed to "use Chinese to control Chinese" and undermine Nationalist influence, yet produced disappointing results.   The 11th Army's 1939 campaigns yielded only mediocre outcomes, hampered by chronic troop shortages. Even its divisions were tied down in occupation duties; mounting a serious offensive required pulling garrison forces, leaving no reserves to hold the line unless new units arrived. Sustained large-scale operations to seriously weaken Chinese strength demanded a major troop increase—otherwise, Japan was limited to shallow, localized attacks. Lt. Gen. Yasuji Okamura, commanding the 11th Army, recognized this clearly. In a December 1939 report, he argued that diplomacy and small offensives were futile and urged a large-scale operation backed by substantial reinforcements. His superiors, however, were preoccupied with funding the broader military buildup and could offer no extra men. The post-Wuhan "defensiveization" of operations was largely a cost-saving measure to support that expansion. Japanese ground strength in China, which peaked near 850,000 after Wuhan, had already dropped by about 50,000. Full-strength regular or Class A divisions numbered roughly 22,000 men (four regiments), while newer garrison divisions had only about 15,000 (three regiments), and independent mixed brigades just 6,000. Okamura's proposal was sensible but politically impossible; high command was even contemplating slashing China troop levels to 400,000.   The Chinese Winter Offensive of December 1939, together with counterattacks at Nanning and Kunlun Pass, inflicted serious losses and exposed the limited damage done to Chinese forces in 1939 operations. The recapture of Wuyuan in March 1940 signaled the start of a new phase. Shortly afterward, intensified Chinese guerrilla raids deep into Japanese rear areas prompted large Japanese "mop-up" operations in southern Shanxi, central Hubei, southern Jiangxi, and northern Hunan. In the Wuhan sector, repeated blows from the Winter Offensive heightened fears of Chinese forces in the Dahong and Tongbai Mountains, which threatened control over the vital Jianghan Plains rice-producing region. In mid-April 1940, the Japanese abandoned outposts at Macheng (eastern Hubei), Fengxin, and Jing'an (northern Jiangxi), withdrew elements of the 6th Division (northern Hunan), 40th Division (northern Jiangxi), and the 3rd, 13th, and 39th Divisions (Hubei), and concentrated them around Zhongxiang, Suixian, and Xinyang for a maximum-effort push.   These setbacks finally forced Tokyo to abandon deep troop reductions in China and approve reinforcements of two regular divisions for a major 1940 offensive. The revised end-1940 target became 740,000 troops in China. In spring 1940, the 11th Army—backed fully by Imperial General Headquarters and the China Expeditionary Army—began detailed preparations for a large-scale assault on China's Fifth War Zone.   On February 25, 1940, the 11th Army issued its "Guiding Strategy for the Campaign." The operational goal was to defeat the main force of China's Fifth War Zone along both banks of the Han River before the rainy season, inflict further heavy losses on Chiang Kai-shek's army through decisive victory, and thereby advance Japan's overall political and strategic position vis-à-vis China. The guiding principle called for the quickest possible preparations, with the offensive to begin around early May: first destroy Chinese forces on the left (east) bank south of the Baihe River, then completely annihilate the core units on the right (west) bank near Yichang. On April 7, under the new commander Lt. Gen. Sonobe Kazuo (who replaced Okamura Yasuji), the 11th Army produced a more detailed plan. On April 10, Imperial General Headquarters Order No. 426 ("Continental Order") authorized the China Expeditionary Army to conduct operations in central and southern China during May–June, even beyond established boundaries, to fulfill current objectives.   Japanese planners viewed the Fifth War Zone—roughly 50 divisions encircling Wuhan—with its main strength concentrated along the Han (Xiang) River in northwestern Hubei. Striking Yichang would deliver a severe blow to the zone. As the gateway to Sichuan, only 480 km from Chongqing, Yichang held immense strategic value: an inland port, Three Gorges logistics hub, and key base for air raids on Chongqing. Capturing it would directly threaten the Nationalist wartime capital and southwestern rear, advancing political leverage. Still, long-term occupation was not pre-decided; initial plans stressed inflicting maximum damage followed by withdrawal, in line with the post-Wuhan policy of avoiding permanent overextension. China, aware that holding the Jianghan Plain's rice-producing areas enabled sustained attrition against Japan, deployed guerrilla units to harass Japanese rear areas (increasing occupier losses) while tasking the River Defense Force to hold key front-line points: Jingmen, Shashi, and Yichang.   To achieve these aims, the 11th Army committed as much as possible of its seven divisions and four brigades (88 battalions total). Core units included the 3rd Division (Maj. Gen. Yamakoshi Masataka; regiments 6, 18, 34, 68), 13th Division (Maj. Gen. Tanaka Shioichi; 58, 65, 104, 116), 39th Division (Maj. Gen. Murakami Keisaku; 231–233), elements of the 40th Division, detachments from the 33rd and 34th Divisions, and others. Reinforcements comprised the Ikeda Detachment (three battalions from 6th Division), Ishimoto Detachment (four–five from 40th), Ogawa Detachment (two from 34th), and Provisional Mixed Brigade 101. Supporting assets included the 6th Field Heavy Artillery Regiment, 7th and 13th Tank Regiments, 3rd Air Group, Navy 1st China Dispatch Fleet, and 2nd Combined Air Team. The China Expeditionary Army transferred seven battalions from the 15th and 22nd Divisions (13th Army, lower Yangtze). The main effort north of the river involved roughly 48–54 battalions, or 80,000–110,000 men, making the Zaoyi (Zaoyang–Yichang) Campaign the largest Japanese operation on the central front since Wuhan. Sonobe's staff structured the offensive in two phases. Phase One targeted the Fifth War Zone's main force around Zaoyang (east of the Han River) through converging pincer movements: right flank from Xinyang (reinforced 3rd Division), left flank from Zhongxiang (reinforced 13th Division), and central thrust by the reinforced 39th Division from Suixian. The plan exploited terrain—Dahong and Tongbai Mountains—for encirclement. After seizing Minggang (right flank) and advancing from Zhongxiang (left), the pincers would close on Zaoyang, with the center (along the Xianghua Highway from Suixian) drawing Chinese forces into the trap for envelopment. Diversionary attacks south of the Yangtze, propaganda hinting at limited scope, and planted false orders helped mask intentions. Japanese radio intelligence—intercepts and direction-finding of Chinese headquarters signals—provided critical advantages, especially in later stages.   By March 1940, Chinese intelligence had already detected the 11th Army's intent to mount a major offensive from Xinyang and Wuhan into northwestern Hubei. On April 10, Chiang Kai-shek telegraphed Li Zongren and other Fifth War Zone commanders, urging immediate preparations for a preemptive strike against any push toward Shapingba and Yichang. He emphasized proactive flanking attacks on Japanese rear areas via Wusheng Pass and threats to the Pinghan Railway, while keeping main forces east of the Han River for decisive engagement once the enemy committed.   Following Military Commission directives, the Fifth War Zone devised a plan that used part of its strength for forward advances and deep raids into Japanese rear areas to harass and divert. The bulk of forces would hold the rear, seizing chances for preemptive strikes and a decisive battle east of Zaoyang or south of Jingmen–Dangyang. Deployments included: the 33rd Army Group garrisoning the Xiang River; in the center, the 45th Corps (22nd Army Group) west of Luoyangdian–Suixian and the 84th Corps (11th Army Group) north of Suixian–south of Gaocheng; in southern Henan, the 30th Corps east of Tongbai and the 68th Corps north of Pingchangguan–Minggang; the 41st Corps in reserve near Xiangyang; the 29th Army Group (with part garrisoning north of Tongqiao Zhen–Sanyangtien) concentrated in the Dahong Mountains; and the 31st Army Group positioned between Queshan and Ye Hsien as the mobile force to strike invaders. River Defense Army commander Guo Chan controlled the 26th, 75th, and 94th Armies, the 128th Division, and the 6th and 7th Guerrilla Columns. Total Chinese strength approximated 350,000–380,000 men across roughly 50–54 divisions. To mask preparations and mislead, the Japanese conducted a late-April "mop-up" near Jiujiang, staged naval feints on Poyang and Dongting Lakes, and bombed key points in Hunan and Jiangxi, simulating an imminent Ninth War Zone operation.   With forces assembled, the Japanese offensive began May 1, 1940, from Xinyang, Suixian, and Zhongxiang. The advance split into five routes: (1) Changtaiguan–Minggang–Biyang–Tanghe; (2) Xinyang–Tongbai; (3) Suixian–Zaoyang; (4) Suixian–Wujiadien; (5) Zhongxiang–Shuangkou. Employing flanking with central breakthrough, the reinforced 3rd Division (right flank, including Ishimoto Detachment from 40th Division with tanks and engineers) spearheaded from Xinyang toward Biyang, breaching the Chinese Second Army front on day one. By May 1, elements of the 3rd and 40th Divisions captured Minggang, Lion's Bridge, and Xiaolintien; on May 5 they took Biyang and Tongbai. The Chinese 31st Army Group (northeast of Biyang) linked with the 68th and 92nd Corps to hit Japanese flanks and rear. Leaving some forces west of Tongbai to press the enemy, the main 30th Corps struck Japanese flanks. After seizing Tanghe on May 7, the Japanese pushed south toward Zaoyang. On May 8–9, the 31st Army Group retook Tanghe and Xinye, pursuing vigorously. On May 8, the Japanese left flank (13th Division) attacked from Zhongxiang, breaking through the 33rd Army front the same day.   On May 3, the Japanese 13th Division—supported by over 20 tanks, 40 aircraft, artillery, and cavalry—advanced north from Zhongxiang, capturing Changshoudian and Tianjiachi. It seized Fengyao and Changjiachi by May 6. Chinese 33rd Army Group forces used favorable terrain to intercept, while the 29th Army Group struck Japanese flanks and rear at Changjiachi and Wangjiadian, and the 41st Corps fought tenaciously to halt the advance. By May 7, Japanese spearheads reached Changjiachi on the Zaoyang–Xiangyang Highway, with elements entering Shuangkou; their rear cavalry took Xinye on May 8. Fifth War Zone commander Zhang Zizhong personally led attacks along Tianjiachi–Huanglongtang, supported by fierce 29th Army Group assaults on Japanese rear.   The Japanese 39th Division and a 6th Division brigade delayed their assault on the Chinese 11th Army Group until May 4 from Suixian. After overrunning Gaocheng and Anchu on May 5, Chinese forces withdrew to Huantan–Tang Hsien–north of Gaocheng. As the 33rd Army Group faltered, part of the 11th Army Group reinforced it; the 175th Division held at Tang Hsien while the main body fell back toward Zaoyang. During the maneuver, Japanese tanks enveloped at Tang Hsien, cutting the Zaoyang–Xiangyang Highway and forcing bitter fighting by the 174th Division. To break out, Chinese abandoned Zaoyang, using the 173rd Division for rearguard resistance while the bulk shifted west of the Tang and Bai Rivers. Japanese captured Suiyangdian and Wujiadien on May 7, Zaoyang on May 8; the 173rd Division suffered heavy losses, including the death of its commander, Gen. Zhong Yi.   On May 10, Japanese completed an encirclement east of Xiangdong along the Tang and Bai Rivers—but it collapsed as Chinese exterior forces outflanked both Japanese wings and compressed the center, trapping much of the Japanese in the Xiangdong Plains. The Chinese 2nd and 31st Army Groups plus 92nd Corps pressed south, 39th and 75th Corps east, and 33rd and 29th Army Groups north against the pocket. The 94th Corps advanced along the Han–Yichang Highway deep into Jingshan, Zaoshi, Yingcheng, and Yunmeng to sever Japanese rear communications. Meanwhile, the 7th Corps and eastern Hubei guerrillas seized Jigong Shan, Lijiachai, and Liulin station on the Beijing–Hankou Railway. The 92nd and 68th Corps retook Zaoyang, Tongbai, and Minggang, encircling four Japanese divisions in the Xiangdong Plains. By May 11, battered Japanese retreated eastward under pursuit, Chinese flanking and rear attacks leaving many dead on the field. The 31st Army Group recovered Zaoyang on May 16. Chinese reports claimed 45,000 Japanese casualties, plus capture of over 60 guns, 2,000+ horses, 70+ tanks, and 400+ trucks. The 33rd Army Group fought fiercely to intercept retreating columns, driving large Japanese remnants toward Nanguadian.   Tragically, on May 16 noon, Gen. Zhang Zizhong—personally commanding his Guard Battalion and main 74th Division—was killed in action. With pressure eased on the Japanese left, they counterattacked and retook Zaoyang on May 17. Chinese forces withdrew to Xinye on the Tangbai River's west bank and north of the Tang River, regrouping for a renewed counteroffensive.   The Military Commission anticipated a Japanese withdrawal to original lines, likely along the rain-impassable Xianghua Road. Exploiting the enemy's supply shortages, exhaustion, and retreat difficulties, it ordered Fifth War Zone units to encircle and annihilate Japanese forces near the battlefield, then pursue toward Yingcheng–Huayuan. The zone promptly launched a counteroffensive. By nightfall on May 8, Japanese pincers neared junction, having inflicted serious damage on the Chinese 84th Army but achieved little else. Nonetheless, the 11th Army ordered frontline divisions to withdraw to the Tanghe–Baihe line after reaching it, preparatory to encircling Chinese forces west of the Han River. Chongqing issued general offensive orders at 8 PM and 11 PM that night. By then, six divisions of the 31st Army Group advanced south from Nanyang in the north, five from the 33rd Army Group pressed from the south, and five from the 45th and 94th Armies pursued in the southeast—nearly completing the Japanese encirclement. Intense combat erupted.   On May 10, retreating Japanese first clashed with the advancing 33rd Army Group from the south. Seizing the moment, they ordered the 13th and 39th Divisions plus Ikeda Detachment south to smash it, with the 3rd Division covering the northern flank. Full-scale battle broke out on May 12: two Japanese divisions assaulted five Chinese divisions of the 33rd Army Group, plunging them into desperate fighting. Japanese radio intercepts—including telegrams between the Military Commission and Fifth War Zone, plus Zhang Zizhong's report to Chiang on his five divisions' movements—revealed exact positions and plans. Sonobe Kazuo concentrated the 13th and 39th Divisions to strike south along the Han's east bank against Zhang's army group, while ordering the 3rd Division (south of Xinye) back to Zaoyang to guard the rear. Direction-finding had long pinpointed the 33rd Army Group headquarters radio (call signs and bearings) about 10 km northeast of Yicheng. With air support, the Japanese encircled it. On the night of May 15, the 39th Division advanced from Fangjiaji and Nanying toward Nanguadian, completing tactical encirclement by dawn on May 16. Artillery-supported four-sided assaults followed. The defending 74th Division resisted fiercely with repeated counterattacks. Fighting raged into the afternoon, with the Special Service Battalion joining. Japanese attackers swelled to over 5,000, backed by concentrated artillery and 20+ aircraft for a final push. Zhang Zizhong, wounded multiple times, continued commanding calmly until a severe chest wound killed him heroically. The exhausted, isolated 74th Division and battalion suffered devastating losses. That day, the 13th Division also routed the main 33rd Army Group force, breaking the southern encirclement. Japanese then redeployed, concentrating around Zaoyang.   In the north, 17 divisions (including six from the 31st Army Group) attacked the isolated Japanese 3rd Division from east, south, and north, severing its supply lines. With limited ammunition and no resupply, the division faced crisis; its 29th Brigade telegram pleaded: "Enemy fighting spirit extremely high... safe return very difficult; request battalion reinforcements." Yet southern Chinese forces remained undestroyed amid chaos. Japanese choices narrowed to independent 3rd Division retreat or holding for relief. They opted to lure pursuers: ordering the division southeast toward Zaoyang to draw Chinese into pursuit. From May 16–18, the 3rd Division fought a delaying retreat; relentless Chinese pursuit inflicted limited damage due to insufficient firepower, allowing escape. By evening May 18, it reached northeast of Zaoyang and prepared offensives. The 13th and 39th Divisions, after defeating the 33rd Army Group, also advanced north to the Zaoyang line.   The 3rd Division's retreat shortened Japanese lines and hastened convergence. Unsuspecting Chinese pursued to Zaoyang. After a successful counterattack northeast of Yicheng, the 13th and 39th Divisions rejoined the 3rd Division there. On May 19 morning, three Japanese divisions attacked abreast, forcing decisive battle along the Tang River. Chinese divisions collapsed within hours; the 75th Army took heavy losses, others significant casualties. Fifth War Zone ordered hasty retreat. Japanese pursued vigorously. By May 21, the 3rd Division reached Dengxian, 13th east of Laohekou, 39th Fancheng. Early that day, the 39th Division—crossing the Baihe—met fierce west-bank fire, losing Regiment Commander Kanzaki Tetsujiro and over 300 men. That evening, the 11th Army halted pursuit, ending east-bank (Xiang River) fighting. The 20+ day operation east of the Han inflicted heavy Japanese losses, far exceeding the planned duration, leaving troops exhausted. After halting, units withdrew to Zaoyang vicinity for rest and reorganization rather than immediate return to base positions. Commanders debated proceeding to Yichang west of the Han: abandoning the plan would signal Phase One failure, eroding authority and imperial trust. Most argued troop fatigue and casualties should not deter continuation. Over 1,000 tons of supplies rushed forward via six motor companies. Following east-bank termination, Japanese consolidated for the next phase targeting Yichang. Reinforcements arrived: the 4th Division from Manchuria and 18th Independent Brigade from Wuning. The 4th Division assumed Shayang–Zhongxiang positions east of the Xiang River.   The Japanese bombarded the west bank of the Han River for ninety minutes before forcing a crossing at Wangji north of Yicheng. That midnight, the 3rd Division also crossed southeast of Xiangyang. Both met little resistance and completed crossings before dawn. The 11th Army left the 40th Division at Dahongshan for rear-area mopping-up and assigned the Xiaochuan and Cangqiao Detachments to guard mobile supply depots. On May 31 night, the 3rd and 39th Divisions crossed the Xiang River at Yicheng and Oujiamiao. After seizing Xiangyang on June 1 night, the main force split into columns crossing westward. By June 3, Japanese captured Nanzhang and Yicheng. The Chinese 41st Corps fiercely counterattacked, retaking part of Xiangyang while its main body battled around Nanzhang; the 77th Corps also struck hard. On June 4, Chinese recovered Nanzhang, forcing Japanese retreat southward. Meanwhile, the 13th Division and elements of the 6th Division forced a crossing on the Han–Yichang Highway near Jiukou and Shayang to link with southern columns for a joint push. The Chinese River Defense Force shifted its main strength to key positions, using terrain to block southward advances. The 2nd and 31st Army Groups pursued south separately. Chinese abandoned Shayang on June 5; Japanese took Jingmen, Shilipu, and Shihujiao on June 6. The 77th Corps and river defense units resisted stubbornly from Jingmen to Jiangling. After retaking Yicheng, the 2nd Army Group continued pursuit. Japanese concentrated around Jingmen–Shilipu as Jiangling fell.   On June 9 morning, Japanese launched joint air-ground assaults from Dongshi to Dangyang and Yuanan. By afternoon, penetrating the Chinese right flank forced a night withdrawal to Gulaobei–Shuanlianshi–Dangyang along the Zu River to Yuanan. June 10 saw Japanese capture Gulaobei and Dangyang, pushing Chinese to Yichang outskirts. After days of heavy fighting and prohibitive losses, Chinese abandoned Yichang on their own initiative. The 2nd and 31st Army Groups then reached Dangyang north of Jingmen. On June 16, they mounted a general offensive. By June 17, Chinese briefly retook Yichang; the 2nd Army Group linked with the 77th Corps against Dangyang, while the 31st Army Group severed Dangyang–Jingmen communications and assaulted Jingmen violently. South of the Yangtze, the 5th and 32nd Divisions crossed to hit Shayang and Shilipu. By June 18, Japanese main force held stubbornly from Dangyang to the Xiang River with superior equipment. Chinese, fighting on exterior lines, formed an encirclement from Jiangling–Yichang–Dangyang–Zhongxiang–Suixian–north of Xinyang while maintaining surveillance. Thus, the Zaoyi (Zaoyang–Yichang) Campaign ended. No prior decision existed on holding Yichang long-term. Per post-Wuhan Imperial General Headquarters policy, even extended operations aimed only to inflict severe blows and erode Chinese resistance, not expand occupation. On capture day, the 11th Army declared objectives achieved, ordering reorganization, destruction of Yichang military facilities, and dumping irremovable captured supplies into the Yangtze preparatory to withdrawal. At 10 PM June 15, formal orders withdrew to the Han's east bank: 3rd and 39th Divisions first to Dangyang–Jingmen to cover, then the 13th Division. The 13th began retreating from Yichang at midnight June 16, reaching Tumenya (10 km east) by 7 AM June 17. Chinese counterattacked along the route; the 18th Army pursued and retook Yichang morning of June 17. Japanese held Yichang only four days.   Intense debate erupted between frontline commanders and Imperial General Headquarters over retaining Yichang. With Nazi Germany's Western Europe offensive underway—Paris fell June 12, the day Yichang was taken—global upheaval intensified Japanese urgency to resolve China swiftly and free resources for wider competition. Many in high command and China Expeditionary Army argued long-term occupation would threaten Chongqing more directly, aid political maneuvers, and hasten settlement, offering immense strategic value. This swayed the Emperor, who inquired at the June 15 Imperial Conference about securing it. Backed by imperial support, high command ordered temporary retention (one month) on June 16. By transmission through Expeditionary Army and 11th Army channels, the rearguard 13th Division had withdrawn 52 km. With 3rd Division cooperation, it reversed, broke Chinese resistance, and retook Yichang afternoon June 17. On July 1, to offset expanded 11th Army responsibilities, General Headquarters transferred the 4th Division from Kwantung Army (Jiamusi, Heilongjiang) to 11th Army control. July 13 orders confirmed long-term Yichang retention, redefining Wuhan-region operations to Anqing–Xinyang–Yichang–Yueyang–Nanchang. The 11th Army assigned: 13th Division to Yichang, 4th Division to Anlu, 18th Independent Mixed Brigade east/west of Dangyang; remaining units returned to original defenses.   Post-recapture, Chinese continued counterattacks on Yichang and rear lines until ordered to halt: "To adapt to international changes, preserve National Army combat strength, and facilitate reorganization, Fifth War Zone cease attacks on Yichang immediately." A stalemate followed along lines encircling Yichang, Dangyang, Jiangling, Jingmen, Zhongxiang, Suixian, and Xinyang. To shield Chongqing and Sichuan, Nationalists re-established the Sixth War Zone (briefly created post-First Changsha, abolished April 1940), appointing Chen Cheng commander-in-chief with 33rd and 29th Army Groups, River Defense Army, and 18th Army covering western Hubei, western Hunan, eastern Sichuan. The Zaoyi campaign thus concluded. Japanese combat power again proved markedly superior. Official Japanese records (11th Army/China Expeditionary Army) reported 2,700 killed, ~7,800 wounded (total ~10,500; some phases ~1,403 killed/4,639 wounded). Chinese admitted heavy losses: 36,983 killed, 50,509 wounded, 23,000 missing (total >110,000 in some accounts). Wartime Nationalist claims inflated Japanese casualties to 45,000 killed/wounded with major captures (60+ guns, 70+ tanks, 400+ trucks), likely propagandistic; Japanese sources show far lower equipment losses. With 56 battalions deployed, Japanese suffered 12–15% combat casualties; Chinese (54 divisions, ~380,000 men) incurred 25–30% or higher—underscoring firepower/equipment disparity. Japan achieved tactical success by securing Yichang long-term (as a Chongqing bombing base) but failed to annihilate the main Chinese force or compel peace. Chinese resistance thwarted full encirclement and imposed attrition, albeit at crippling cost to the Fifth War Zone—severely weakened and never fully recovering until war's end. Japanese aims were realized to a significant, though not decisive, degree.   The Fifth War Zone's operational plan was fundamentally sound. Chinese intelligence detected Japanese intentions early, accurately predicted the attack axis, and deployed accordingly. The plan included preemptive strikes at Wusheng Pass and the Guangshui section of the Pinghan Railway to harass Japanese rear areas, threaten Wuhan, gather reconnaissance, and disrupt enemy preparations. Though well conceived, these actions never materialized. In the first phase (Xiangdong operations), Chinese forces resisted while shifting the main body to outer lines, securing mobile flanking positions. This frustrated Japanese encirclement efforts in the Xiangdong Plains. Exploiting the enemy's retreat, China launched a timely counteroffensive that encircled the Japanese 3rd Division. Despite breakout support from over 100 aircraft and 200 tanks, the poorly equipped Chinese inflicted heavy casualties during the three-day siege, blunting the division's momentum.    On the southern front, the 33rd Army Group's intercepting deployment was appropriate, but insufficient strength and compromised communications allowed the Japanese 13th and 39th Divisions to counterattack decisively, inflicting major losses and claiming the heroic death of Commander-in-Chief Zhang Zizhong—whose steadfast patriotism remains a lasting source of national pride. Overall, Chinese assessments and deployments in Phase One were largely correct. The battlefield showed China retained initiative and was not wholly dominated by Japanese plans. The core issue was overestimation of Chinese combat power amid severe shortages of heavy weapons. At least three corps suffered heavy attrition, yet Japanese captured only twenty-three mountain/field guns. Relying on manpower for brute force left Chinese units critically undergunned, enabling repeated encirclement attempts but preventing decisive destruction or severe damage to encircled enemies like the 3rd Division.   Phase Two, by contrast, was entirely passive. The initial Japanese Han River crossings were largely feints, yet the west bank received scant attention in overall planning—leaving Yichang virtually undefended as main forces deployed east of the river. Post-Phase One, Japan reinforced the 11th Army with three infantry battalions and one mountain artillery battalion from the 13th Army (lower Yangtze), plus six motor transport companies rushing massive supplies forward. Chinese intelligence missed these moves, remaining complacent in expectation of Japanese withdrawal eastward. After regrouping, Japan abruptly pivoted west with rapid advances. The Military Commission and Fifth War Zone, caught unprepared, made frantic, chaotic adjustments that failed to mount effective defense. The loss of strategically vital Yichang was inevitable, complicating the resistance both militarily and psychologically. This stemmed directly from command misjudgment of Japanese strategic and operational aims. Had plans anticipated a westward thrust and retained strong reserves—or detected the 10-day regrouping window to readjust deployments—China could have retained greater initiative, inflicted more damage, and reduced its own losses.   I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. Japan's 11th Army launched an offensive in Hubei to encircle Chinese forces in the Fifth War Zone and seize Yichang for bombing Chongqing. Chinese troops countered effectively, encircling Japanese divisions and inflicting heavy losses, though General Zhang Zizhong was killed in action. After intense fighting east of the Han River, Japanese crossed west, captured Yichang, briefly withdrew, then retook and held it long-term. 

This week I'm sharing the third installment from the day-long conference convened by the Institute for America, China, and the Future of Global Affairs (ACF) at Johns Hopkins SAIS on April 3rd in Washington — "The China Debate We're Not Having: Politics, Technology, and the Road Ahead." The first two episodes featured Jessica Chen Weiss's opening remarks and the panels on what China wants and what the United States wants. This week's panel — "Tech, Rivalry, and Competing Visions of the Future" — turns to the domain that, more than any other, has come to define how Washington thinks about the U.S.-China relationship: technology, and especially AI. Once again, my deep thanks to Jessica Chen Weiss, ACF's inaugural faculty director, for organizing this terrific conference and for so generously letting me share this audio with Sinica listeners. Moderator Kat Duffy of the Council on Foreign Relations opens by interrogating the very framing of the panel: is "rivalry" actually the right word for what's going on between the U.S. and China in tech? The panelists give a range of answers — from "yes, because both sides believe it is" to Samm Sacks's pithy rejoinder that "rivalry serves specific actors and specific interests." From there the conversation ranges across the FCC's recent move to bar most foreign-made routers, the pitfalls of framing AI competition as a sprint to AGI rather than what Jeff Ding calls a "diffusion marathon," the many internal Chinas that get flattened in DC discourse, the cybersecurity reciprocity problem (Volt Typhoon, Salt Typhoon, and what President Trump tellingly admitted about all of it), and what it would actually mean for the U.S. to compete by being its best self — what one panelist memorably calls "Americamaxxing." There's a lot of substance packed into this hour, and a lot of generative pushback against received DC wisdom. The audience Q&A at the end takes up the role of race and xenophobia in the discourse — a topic that, as one questioner pointedly notes, had been conspicuously absent from the day's earlier discussions. Panelists:— Samm Sacks, Senior Fellow, New America and Yale Law School— Jeff Ding, Assistant Professor of Political Science, George Washington University— Mieke Eoyang, Visiting Professor, Carnegie Mellon University; former Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense for Cyber Policy— Selina Xu, Lead for China and AI Policy, Office of Eric Schmidt Moderator: Kat Duffy, Senior Fellow for Digital and Cyberspace Policy, Council on Foreign RelationsSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

This week on Sinica: Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez wrapped up his fourth visit to China in as many years last week, and this one may be the most consequential yet. It comes at a moment when Spain has emerged, almost improbably, as the most outspoken voice in Europe challenging the direction of American foreign policy — closing its airspace to U.S. military aircraft involved in the war in Iran, denying Washington the use of the Rota and Morón bases, recognizing Palestine, and getting expelled from the U.S.-led Gaza Coordination Center for its "anti-Israel obsession." Against that backdrop, Sánchez delivered a remarkable speech at Tsinghua University — a speech I wrote about in detail on the Sinica Substack (PM Pedro Sánchez's Tsinghua Speech: A Masterclass in Diplomatic Rhetoric) — defending multilateralism, calling the EU-China trade deficit unsustainable, and naming China "a country rebuilding its greatness."To help make sense of it, I'm joined by Mario Esteban Rodríguez, full professor at the Autonomous University of Madrid, director of its Center for East Asian Studies, and senior fellow at the Elcano Royal Institute. Mario is the scholar most frequently quoted in Spanish and European media coverage of Spain-China relations, and the author most recently of China's Vertical Multilateralism and the Global South (Routledge, 2026). We discuss whether Sánchez is running an updated Merkel playbook or something qualitatively new, how much of the pivot is really about Trump, the sectoral politics of EVs and Iberian pork, the Chery plant in Barcelona, Spain's role as a gateway to Latin America, and whether Madrid is now a trailblazer for a broader European — and transatlantic — reorientation toward Beijing.06:33 — Sánchez's China strategy: pragmatism, consistency, and political capital08:35 — Domestic politics: the PSOE–PP consensus, Vox, and the regional contradiction12:40 — Merkel's playbook vs. Sánchez's: COVID, Ukraine, and the macroeconomic imbalance15:55 — The Tsinghua speech: Matteo Ricci, multipolarity, and the human rights omission28:17 — The Trump factor: Iran, Gaza, and the limits of overestimating the American effect35:48 — Trade, EV tariffs, pork, and Chinese investment in Spain (the Chery plant in Barcelona)47:04 — Agricultural constituencies and the paradox of Vox voters who benefit from China trade49:01 — Spain's influence in Brussels and the conditions for other member states to follow53:09 — Spain as gateway to Latin America, and the wider European (and Canadian) turn to BeijingPaying it Forward: The European Think-Tank Network on China (ETNC) — a network providing country-specific insights on EU member states' approaches to China, including the granular differences and nuances that non-European analysts often miss.RecommendationsMario Esteban: A trip, rather than a book — New Zealand, which he's visiting this summer with his family to mark the 25th anniversary of the release of The Fellowship of the Ring. A nod to his love of Tolkien and tabletop role-playing games (conducted, he is careful to note, in his own basement — not his parents').Kaiser Kuo: CONG — a new large-format magazine published out of Hong Kong (the title is pronounced Kong, though its ambiguous Pinyin-like spelling invites a second reading), now preparing its third issue. Beautifully produced on glossy and textured paper, with broad coverage of the art, culture, and design scene across East and Southeast Asia. Check it out online here: https://www.serakai.studio/congSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

C'est sans doute une des épices les plus utilisées en cuisine pour relever ou sublimer un plat mais que sait-on vraiment du poivre ? En France, seuls les fruits issus de l'espèce Piper nigrum, poivrier noir, ont le droit de s'appeler « poivre ». Il en existe pourtant d'autres, comme le Piper longum ou le Piper borbonense. En revanche, les baies de Timut ou de Sichuan ne font théoriquement pas partie de la famille même si elles bénéficient souvent de l'appellation. Depuis sa découverte dans le sud-ouest de l'Inde, le poivre a voyagé au fil de la mondialisation, on en produit en Asie du Sud-Est, en Afrique, en Amérique du Sud... mais malgré sa popularité, il reste donc largement méconnu. On cherche parfois à le classer par sa couleur (rouge, noir, blanc ou vert), sans que celle-ci nous indique sa provenance ou sa variété. Ce qui est sûr, c'est qu'il vaut mieux l'acheter en grains plutôt que moulu pour en garder tous les arômes. Lui qui peut être piquant, boisé, fruité, amer, brioché... Comment reconnaître un poivre de qualité ? Vers quelle variété se tourner selon le plat ? Se marie-t-il qu'avec le sel ou peut-on varier les plaisirs épicés ? Discussion autour du poivre avec nos invités, en un tour de moulin !  Avec : • Anto Cocagne, « Le Chef Anto », cheffe à domicile, autrice de Mon Afrique – Produits phares, savoir-faire, recettes (Mango éditions, 2024) et fondatrice de Baraka by le Chef Anto, table et épicerie fine qui met en valeur le meilleur des saveurs africaines, située à Paris  •  Marie-Lou Lize, co-fondatrice de Nomie, le goût des épices, formatrice sur l'usage des épices •  Nathalie Brigaud Ngoum, autrice du blog Envolées Gourmandes et du livre  Mon imprécis de cuisine et fondatrice d'Envolées Gourmandes académie, un centre de formation agréé de cuisine, de pâtisserie et boulangerie. En fin d'émission, Charlie Dupiot nous emmène sur les campus français avec Décalages culturels, une chronique produite par RFI avec le soutien de l'Université Paris-Cité. Sur une idée originale de Chae-Yeon Bournel-Bosson du Français facile avec RFI. Dans ce 6ème épisode, Natalie professeure franco-suisse à l'Université Paris-Cité parle des cadeaux qu'elle reçoit de ses étudiants. Philippe Pierre, sociologue, enseignant en management de l'interculturel, lui répond.   Programmation musicale :  ► Scar Tissue - Red Hot Chili Peppers ► Un thé ? - Aupinard. 

Last time we spoke about the first battle of Changsha. Japanese forces under General Okamura Yasuji, including the 6th, 13th, and 33rd Divisions, launched a multi-pronged offensive, crossing the Xin Qiang River and capturing Yingtian amid brutal fighting. Chinese defenses, commanded by Xue Yue in the Ninth War Zone, employed gradual resistance strategies, with units like the 195th Division under Qin Yizhi holding key positions such as Bijia Mountain and Fulinpu, inflicting heavy losses. Battalion Commander Luo Wenlang recaptured Dongtang in a midnight assault, grieving his fallen brother amid Mid-Autumn moonlight. Chiang Kai-shek, from Chongqing, oversaw operations while hosting a festive banquet, buoyed by international support like U.S. loans. By October, Japanese advances stalled; Okamura ordered a retreat on October 2, exposed by a downed plane yielding critical documents. Chinese forces pursued, reclaiming lines by October 8, annihilating over half the invaders per Chiang's commendation.   #198 The Battle of South Guangxi Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. In January 1939, the Japanese General Headquarters, responding to naval needs, ordered the 21st Corps to seize Hainan Island. The goal was to establish a base for air operations against southwestern China and to enforce blockade measures. Supported by the Japanese Navy, the Corps deployed the Taiwan Brigade, which landed at Haikou on February 10. After initial defeats, Chinese peace preservation units withdrew to the island's interior and conducted harassment operations. Japanese troops soon occupied northern counties including Qiongshan, Wenchang, Ding'an, Qionghai, and Chengmai, followed by the port of Yulin, which positioned them for southward advances toward Guangxi.   This invasion was part of a broader strategy to disrupt Chinese supply lines and secure a foothold in southern China. Although Chinese resistance on Hainan ultimately failed to repel the invaders, it highlighted the resilience that would define regional fighting.   After the costly Battle of Wuhan, the Sino-Japanese War reached a stalemate in central China, despite ongoing large-scale conflicts and Japanese strategic bombings that caused heavy casualties without breaking the deadlock. Politically, Japan's alignment with the Axis powers and the start of World War II in Western Europe led European nations to bolster ties with China. With major coastal ports under Japanese control, the Nationalist government's main overseas supply route became the Haiphong-Kunming railway in French Indochina, which transported four times more war materials in 1938 than in 1937, including heavy equipment purchased abroad.   The Hainan occupation negatively impacted Japan's war efforts, though diplomatic pressure on Britain and France proved ineffective. Meanwhile, the Imperial Japanese Navy proposed a southward advance: invading from Nanning to Longzhou County in Guangxi by sea to establish an airfield for strategic bombing. An April 15, 1939, Navy Department assessment deemed large-scale inland army operations challenging, recommending instead that the army and navy collaborate to occupy Shantou—the largest trading port on the South China coast—before pushing into Guangxi to seize Nanning and sever China's vital Indochina supply line.   In June, the Japanese General Staff's "Military Geography" emphasized that occupying Nanning would provide convenient transportation in all directions, reaching Guangdong, Hunan, Guizhou, and Yunnan. The Nanning-Lang Son road had become a major artery for Chiang Kai-shek's regime to connect with the southwest. To cut it off directly, Nanning must be captured first. Once occupied, heavy troops near Tokyo Bay would not be needed to achieve the operation's purpose. This idea gained considerable support both politically and tactically. The Army's northward policy had been defeated by the Soviet Union in the Battle of Khalkhin Gol in September 1939. Major General Tominaga Kyoji, the newly appointed head of the First Department of the General Staff, sought to avoid further embarrassments. Supporting the proposal involved transferring the 5th Division of the Kwantung Army, originally intended for Khalkhin Gol, to the south. This prevented front-line units from misjudging higher-ups' positions and allowed implementation without affecting existing troops.   In September, the European war broke out. The Japanese General Headquarters ordered the 21st Army to capture the vicinity of Nanning, cut off the international passage between Guangxi and Vietnam, and obtain a base for air operations in southwest China. Japan aimed to completely sever China's most important supply route. According to Japanese intelligence, the French Indochina line accounted for 85% of China's foreign aid in late 1939, with 12,500 tons transported in September alone.   On September 1, 1939, Germany attacked Poland; on September 3, Britain and France declared war on Germany, igniting World War II. Japan, eager to resolve the China issue and free up troops to seize Western colonies in Asia and the Pacific, stated through Prime Minister Nobuyuki Abe on September 4: "At the outbreak of the European war, the Empire will not intervene and has decided to focus on resolving the China Incident." In Nanjing, the China Expeditionary Army Headquarters was established, with General Nishio Hisazo as Commander-in-Chief and Lieutenant General Itagaki Seishiro as Chief of Staff, overseeing the North China Area Army, the 11th Army, the 13th Army, and the 21st Army.   On September 23, the Japanese General Headquarters issued an order to prepare for a swift response to the China Incident. On October 16, "Continental Order No. 375" directed the Commander-in-Chief of the China Expeditionary Army to swiftly cut off enemy supply routes from Nanning to Longzhou with a portion of the navy. Also on October 16, "Continental Order No. 582," a central Army-Navy agreement, aimed to cut off enemy routes along the Nanning-Longzhou line and strengthen naval air operations against the Yunnan-Vietnam Railway and the Burma Road. The operation was scheduled for mid-November. On October 19, Nishio Juzo issued orders for the Guangxi operation, involving the 5th Division, Taiwan Mixed Brigade, supporting units, the 5th Fleet (renamed the 2nd Expeditionary Fleet in mid-November), and the 3rd Combined Naval Air Group. Total strength: about 30,000 men, over 70 warships, 2 aircraft carriers, and about 100 aircraft. Tominaga Kyoji announced: "This is the last battle of the China Incident."   Politically, the Guangxi Army was a key pillar of the National Government after retreating to Sichuan. Attacking Guangxi could impact the Guangxi clique's stance on continuing the war. Cutting off the Nanning-Longzhou line would affect Vietnam-China transportation security and allow actions against French Indochina amid Europe's distractions. With tactical and political alignment, the plan was approved.   In September 1939, the Chinese repelled the Japanese attack on Changsha. In October, the National Government held the Second Nanyue Military Conference in Hengshan, summarizing the First Changsha Campaign and deciding on a new offensive. On October 29, Chiang Kai-shek announced: "Our future strategic application and the mentality of officers and soldiers must be completely transformed. We must start to turn defense into offense, turn stillness into movement, and actively take offensive measures." On November 5, after the meeting, intelligence indicated Japan's intention to invade the south. U.S. and British agencies reported the Japanese fleet gathering in Tokyo Bay, signaling an imminent operation against Nanning. Chiang flew from Hengshan to Guilin to arrange defenses.   At this time, coastal defense was guarded by the 16th Army Group under Xia Wei (transferred, with Cai Tingkai taking over), a Guangxi clique force comprising the 46th and 31st Armies. Bai Chongxi, director of the Guilin Headquarters, was in Chongqing for the Sixth Plenary Session of the Fifth National Congress of the Kuomintang, while Chief of Staff Lin Wei was in Rong County mourning Xia Wei's mother. The headquarters was essentially deserted. Zhang Fakui, commander of the Fourth War Zone, and Chief of Staff Wu Shiyuan were in Shaoguan, Guangdong. The three-tiered command structure—headquarters, war zone, army group—was practically non-existent.   The Chinese forces north of the pass were commanded by Bai Chongxi's Guilin Headquarters, with Lin Wei as Chief of Staff; they included the Fourth War Zone under Zhang Fakui and the 16th Army Group under Xia Wei. They commanded: the 31st Army (Commander Wei Yunsong; 131st Division under He Weizhen; 135th Division under Su Zuxin; 188th Division under Wei Zhen); the 46th Army (Commander He Xuan; 170th Division under Li Xingshu; 175th Division under Feng Huang; New 19th Division under Huang Gu); and a portion of the 200th Division of the 5th Army (Commander Dai Anlan). Together with the 1st-4th Independent Infantry Regiments of the Guangxi Training Corps, total strength was approximately 60,000 men.   After the Japanese landing, Bai Chongxi was stationed in Qianjiang, while the 16th Army Group headquarters in Xiawei was at Heishiyan near Binyang.   In early November 1939, the Japanese 5th Fleet and the aircraft carrier Kaga escorted the 5th Division and the Taiwan Brigade to concentrate in Haikou. Japanese aircraft bombed important cities in Guangxi. At that time, the Chinese army defended the coast from Nanning to Qinzhou Bay and Fangcheng with part of the 16th Army Group of the Fourth War Zone. The 46th Army was responsible for the coastline of Fangcheng, Qinxian, Hepu, and Liankou, and the 31st Army for key points along the Xijiang River.   On November 9, Japanese troops assembled at Sanya Bay on Hainan Island. Lieutenant General Ando Rikichi, commander of the 21st Army, personally commanded from Sanya. On the 13th, the fleet set sail. On the 14th, vanguard ships feinted at Beihai with over ten ships. A battalion of the 175th Division retaliated and was ordered to destroy Beihai, but Commander Chao Wei of the 524th Regiment believed no landing was intended, avoiding complete destruction. That night, Japanese ships turned toward Qinzhou.   To safeguard the international communications link between Guangxi and Indochina, the Chinese Generalissimo's Headquarters in Guilin assigned defensive missions. The 46th Corps of the 16th Army Group was tasked with defending the coastline from Fangcheng to Qinzhou, Hepu, and Lianjiang. The 31st Corps was responsible for key positions along the Xi River. Defensive positions were prepared in advance, and communications infrastructure was sabotaged to facilitate gradual resistance, aiming to attrition Japanese forces before a decisive engagement along the Yong River.   On November 15, under air and naval fire support, the Japanese 5th Division and Taiwan Brigade executed a forced landing on the west coast of Qinzhou Bay. Following intense resistance, the Chinese New 19th Division withdrew to Pancheng and Shangsi. After capturing Qinzhou, the Japanese 5th Division advanced north along the Yong-Qin Highway, while the Taiwan Brigade moved along Xiaodong–Baiji–Bujin Road. On November 17, the Japanese army captured Qinzhou and Fangcheng. The 5th Division immediately split into three routes along the Yongqin Highway, while the Taiwan Brigade advanced north along Xiaodong-Baekje-Pujin. On the 18th, they attacked Xiaodong, the headquarters of the New 19th Division. Division Commander Huang Gu fled alone in the face of battle. His troops were routed, and the Japanese continued northward. Meanwhile, bandits from the Shiwan Mountains formed numerous plainclothes teams to lead the Japanese advance, accelerating their northward movement. By November 21, they approached the south bank of the Yu River. On December 1, they occupied Gaofeng Pass. On December 4, they occupied Kunlun Pass and then adopted a defensive posture.   On November 16, Chiang Kai-shek summoned Bai Chongxi in Chongqing, ordering him to return to Guilin immediately to command the battle, without attending the plenary session. Bai requested full command without intervention from Zhang Fakui, and that all armies obey the Headquarters directly. Chiang approved and transferred his elite Fifth Army and other units to Bai's command. Bai telegraphed Du Yuming to lead troops by train from Hengyang to southern Guilin and reinstated Xia Wei as commander of the 16th Army Group, with Cai Tingkai awaiting orders. The 16th Army Group assembled, and Deputy Commander-in-Chief Wei Yunsong arrived in Nanning on the 19th. Units rushed to block Japanese advances. Bai flew to Guilin on the 19th and Qianjiang on the 21st, establishing the command post. Thus, as Japanese arrived in Nanning, Chinese reinforcements like the 170th Division reached Yongning on the 22nd, two regiments of the 135th Division entered Nanning on the 23rd, and the 600th Regiment of the 200th Division arrived at Ertang on the afternoon of the 24th. Other armies assembled in Liuzhou and Binyang.   On November 21, Japanese troops approached the south bank of the Yu River. Wu Zongjun, commander of the 405th Regiment of the 135th Division, arbitrarily ordered his regiments to abandon positions and retreat. Wei Yunsong ordered Su Zuxin to intercept, but Wu disobeyed. No troops defended Nanning's front lines. At dawn on the 24th, the 170th Division fought fiercely in Yongning. In the morning, the Japanese 21st Regiment crossed the river. By afternoon, Nanning had fallen. Over the next two days, they swept surrounding positions. On the morning of the 25th, the 600th Regiment of the 200th Division fought alone against Japanese regiments at Ertang. Under air cover, Japanese attacked, but Chinese resisted stubbornly. Regiment Commander Shao Yizhi and Adjutant Wu Qisheng were killed. Given the situation, Division Commanders Li Xingshu and Dai Anlan retreated to Gaofeng Pass after dusk. Though they failed to stop the advance, this was the fiercest resistance since the landing, lasting two days and nights. On November 25, Japanese attacked the 175th Division near Luwu from Xiaodong and the highway. The division moved to Nalong, assembling in villages there. The 175th attacked key points along the Yongqin Highway, including Datang, Naxiao, Dongya, Nabian, Xincheng, Xiaodong, Dadong, and Bancheng.   On November 20, the 21st Army opened its headquarters in Qinzhou. On November 26, Ando Rikichi announced the formation of the Yongqin Corps under Imamura Hitoshi. Ando left for Guangzhou on the 27th. Starting on the 26th, Japanese attacked Gaofeng Pass with aircraft cover. Despite fierce resistance, Chinese lost Gaofeng Pass on December 1. On the 4th, Japanese occupied Kunlun Pass, then adjusted deployment. The two sides confronted each other along the Kunlun Pass mountainous boundary. According to statistics up to December 1, Japanese suffered 145 dead and 315 wounded; Chinese had 6,125 dead bodies and 664 prisoners (but Japanese casualties were underreported; the 41st Infantry Regiment received 727 replacements on January 19, likely matching killed and wounded sent back). Seized in Nanning: 300 tons lead, 200 tons coal, 500 bundles cotton, 321 tons cotton thread, 30 tons iron, 60 tons tin. On December 2, the Japanese 5th Cavalry Regiment and Morimoto Battalion were attacked by about 1,500 Chinese with four tanks at Batang. Japanese dispatched the 21st Brigade (Nakamura Detachment), repelling a mixed force of the 200th and 188th Divisions. Japanese occupied Kunlun Pass but left only a battalion to defend it, withdrawing the rest to Nanning.   Bai Chongxi, director of the Guilin Headquarters and deputy chief of staff, proposed a counter-offensive plan, which was approved by Chiang Kai-shek.   On November 24, when Japanese had just occupied Nanning, Bai Chongxi demanded an immediate counterattack while Japanese were unstable and weak. After failing to gain approval, Bai asked Du Yuming to submit a request. Du sent a telegram on December 1: "The enemy occupying Nanning is less than two divisions. They succeeded by exploiting our dispersed forces, but lack heavy weapons and supplies. Our army should gather superior forces and launch a counter-offensive quickly (before December 10) to defeat them and restore international transportation." Chiang decided on a counter-offensive on December 7. On the 8th, Bai conveyed the objective: "capturing Kunlun Pass and then recovering Nanning." By mid-December, assembly was complete. Chiang dispatched Chen Cheng and Li Jishen to supervise, and Zhang Fakui arrived in Qianjiang.   In the early stages, Guangxi lacked heavy armored forces for counterattacking beyond Guangxi clique troops. The fall of Kunlun Pass prompted Chongqing to deploy the reorganized Fifth Army and its armored corps for a strong attack. The Fifth Army was the main force at Kunlun Pass, with the National Revolutionary Army providing cover while launching a full-scale counterattack in Nanning.   To recapture Kunlun Pass and Nanning, Bai Chongxi dispatched approximately nine armies and twenty-seven divisions, totaling 300,000 troops: Xia Wei of the 16th Army Group, Ye Zhao of the 37th Army Group, Deng Longguang of the 35th Army Group, and Cai Tingkai of the 26th Army Group (31st, 5th, 64th, 46th, and 43rd Armies, etc.) to attack Kunlun Pass. The Japanese, with the Nakamura Brigade as main force and special forces, had strong fortifications. Xu Tingyao of the 38th Army Group, with Li Yannian of the 2nd Army, Gan Lichu of the 6th Army, Yao Chun of the 36th Army, and Fu Zhongfang of the 99th Army. The 5th Army, plus the 1st Honorary Division (Zheng Dongguo), New 22nd Division (Qiu Qingquan), and all armored, cavalry, artillery, and engineer regiments, arrived.   The Japanese forces consisted of the 5th Division (Lieutenant General Hitoshi Imamura; 9th Brigade under Major General Genichiro Ogawa; 21st Brigade under Major General Masao Nakamura; Taiwan Mixed Brigade under Major General Sadashiro Shiota), Marine Corps (over 70 warships), and Air Force (100 aircraft), totaling about 30,000. Later reinforcements: Imperial Guard Division and a brigade from the 18th Division. Total about 100,000, but only 45,000 fought. After a traitor reported over 100,000 Nationalist troops north of Kunlun Pass, Imamura dismissed it as "impossible." Higher Japanese ranks hoped to instigate rebellion by the Guangxi clique. On December 10, Imamura issued a telegram "Letter to Generals Li and Bai," expressing respect and stating the attack on Nanning was to cut off Chiang's lines, hoping for Japan-China cooperation. If insisted, the Japanese garrison would win. Finally: "The more than 4,200 brave soldiers who died in Nanning have been buried in Zhongshan Park and solemnly offered sacrifices. Please rest assured."   On December 15, Bai Chongxi took a decisive step in the escalating conflict by issuing the first counter-offensive order, setting the stage for a coordinated push against enemy positions. He organized the forces into three main route armies, with additional reserves held back for support.   The Northern Route Army, under Xu Tingyao's command, focused its efforts on Kunlun Pass. The 5th Army led the direct assault there, while the 92nd Division from the 99th Army skirted around Lingliwei to strike at Qitang, effectively flanking the pass and adding pressure from the side.   Meanwhile, the Western Route Army, led by Xia Wei, split into two columns to cover multiple fronts. The First Column, commanded by Zhou Zuhuang, targeted Gaofeng Pass in a bold advance. The Second Column, under Wei Yunsong, positioned itself at Suwei to block any reinforcements heading toward Nanning, cutting off potential enemy supply lines.   On the eastern flank, Cai Tingkai's Eastern Route Army aimed to disrupt key logistics. The 46th Army moved against Luwu and Lingshan, intent on severing the vital Yongqin Highway. At the same time, the 66th Army joined the assault on Kunlun Pass before pushing onward to Gula and Gantang. To bolster these efforts, the remaining two divisions of the 99th Army were kept in reserve, ready to reinforce wherever needed.   The very next day, on December 16, Du Yuming—now serving as army commander—gathered his officers for a critical conference within the 5th Army. There, they crafted a clever encirclement strategy dubbed "close the gate and fight the tiger," designed to trap and overwhelm the opposition. The plan's core involved the 200th Division, led by Dai Anlan, and the 1st Honorary Division under Zheng Dongguo launching the primary attack on Kunlun Pass. Flanking from the right, Qiu Qingquan's New 22nd Division would seize Wutang and Liutang, then turn to intercept any incoming reinforcements. On the left wing, Peng Bisheng commanded two regiments in a daring bypass of Gantang and Chang'an, aiming to strike at Qitang and Batang and seal off the enemy's retreat routes.   The enemy at Kunlun Pass was the Matsumoto Sozaburo Battalion of the 21st Brigade. Its 42nd and 21st Regiments were along Jiutang-Nanning. On December 16, Imamura ordered Major General Kawai Genshichi of the 9th Brigade to lead thousands in a surprise attack on Longzhou and Zhennan Pass, departing on the 17th.   At 8 p.m. on December 17, the Battle of Kunlun Pass began.   On December 18, Chinese forces began their attack and captured Kunlun Pass and Jiutang on the same day. On December 19, it captured Gaofeng Pass. On December 20, Gaofeng Pass, Jiutang, and Kunlun Pass fell into the hands of the Japanese army again. At dawn on December 18, the artillery of the 5th Army opened fire. After extension, the 200th and 1st Honorary Divisions attacked. Hundreds of Japanese planes bombed. By night, the 1st Honorary captured Fairy Mountain, Laomaoling, Wanfu Village, Luotang, and Hill 411; 200th captured Hills 653 and 600, taking Kunlun Pass. At noon on the 19th, massive Japanese air raid. Imamura dispatched the 21st Regiment under Colonel Miki Yoshinosuke, recapturing it. Positions were contested repeatedly. The New 22nd occupied Wutang and Liutang; Wutang recaptured by Japanese, but Liutang held, blocking reinforcements. When Imamura ordered Taiwan Mixed Brigade reinforcement, they were blocked at Liutang by Qiu Qingquan. Du Yuming ordered Zheng Dongguo to send Zheng Tingji's 3rd Regiment to encircle Jiutang from the right. They captured high ground west of Jiutang at night. On December 20, enemy at Kunlun Pass weakened, sending urgent reports. Imamura ordered Nakamura Masao with 42nd Regiment to reinforce, but blocked at Wutang for two days, reaching Qitang on the 22nd, blocked again. Nakamura was wounded on the 23rd morning. At 1:30 pm, Miki reported: "If the brigade cannot arrive before dusk, the front line will be difficult to secure."   Imamura ordered Colonel Lin Yixiong's 1st Regiment and Colonel Watanabe Nobuyoshi's 2nd Regiment of the Taiwan Mixed Brigade to reinforce, but blocked by 175th Division on Yongqin Road. Watanabe's regiment blocked at Luwu by 524th Regiment (Chao Wei), and after three days, couldn't pass. Watanabe was killed, remnants fled to Qin County. On the 20th, Imamura ordered the 9th Brigade's 3rd Battalion of Ito's unit back in 105 vehicles to reinforce.   The Japanese confirmed the attack and Imamura ordered Nakamura Detachment rescue. Over two weeks, encirclement and breakout battles occurred on the Nanning-Kunlun Pass highway.   On the 18th, the 170th Division launched the Battle of Gaofeng Pass, capturing a hill on the 19th but ambushed that night. On the 20th, the pass fell, retreating to Gewei. Bai inspected but no improvement; failed to capture Gaofeng Pass or block reinforcements. Ito's unit on Yonglong Road intercepted by 131st at Xichangwei. On the 22nd, Imamura sent two companies from Nanning, intercepted by 188th near Suwei. Ito's battalion besieged in Xichangwei for three days, spared because 131st avoided close combat. Under air cover, both broke through to Nanning on the 26th.   On November 21, Chiang was dissatisfied with Kunlun Pass progress, ordering: "If front-line troops and artillery fail to attack or complete tasks, they shall be punished for cowardice."   By the 23rd, two divisions of 5th Army had over 2,000 casualties; Japanese over 1,000. Six days yielded no results, with reinforcements arriving. Du changed tactics to concentrate forces, tightening encirclement.   On the 24th, Oikawa Detachment ordered back to Nanning, destroying captured materials and withdrawing from Longzhou and Zhennanguan. Bai learned some escaped, telegraphing Wei Yunsong: "If the second batch escapes, it affects the main force. The deputy commander-in-chief should be punished." Main force still escaped; local troops preserved strength, benefiting Japanese.   On the main position, Zheng Tingji spotted Japanese officers meeting and ordered fire, inflicting heavy casualties, requiring airdropped officers.   On the 25th, Second Regiment of First Division captured Luotang South Heights, annihilating over 200. From December 25, Fifth Army and 159th and 92nd Divisions occupied key high grounds. Fierce battle until December 31, capturing Kunlun Pass and Tianyin, killing Nakamura Masao, annihilating over 5,000.   Following the intense clashes at Kunlun Pass, the battle's toll on the Japanese forces became starkly evident in the weeks that followed. On January 19, just a month after the fighting peaked, the Japanese rushed in 3,389 fresh replacements to replenish their battered 5th Division. This influx was distributed unevenly: 1,848 went to the 21st Infantry Regiment and 814 to the 42nd, figures that likely corresponded directly to the number of dead and seriously wounded who had been evacuated back home—though those with minor injuries weren't factored into these counts. The ferocity of the engagement was further underscored by the capture of numerous Japanese strongholds, where Chinese forces found that every defender had been killed, leaving no survivors behind.   In many ways, this outcome represented a stunning annihilation for the Japanese, particularly the 21st Brigade, which was effectively wiped out. Key figures fell in the fray, including Brigade Commander Masao Nakamura, Acting Commander Sakata Genichi, Miki Yoshinosuke, along with various deputies and battalion commanders. The leadership losses were catastrophic: over 85% of officers above the squad leader level were killed. Japanese records themselves acknowledged more than 4,000 soldiers dead, painting a grim picture that their own war histories later described as "the darkest era for the army." On the Chinese side, the victory came at a heavy price, with over 10,000 casualties suffered, yet remarkably, the core officer corps remained largely intact, preserving command structure for future operations.   Zooming out to the broader theater in December 1939, the Japanese 5th Division and the Taiwan Mixed Brigade found themselves holding the line against an overwhelming force of more than 150,000 Nationalist troops. At the same time, the Japanese 21st Army was shifting its focus to Guangdong Province in preparation for Operation Weng Ying, while the Oikawa Detachment—primarily composed of the 11th Infantry Regiment—pushed forward to Longzhou. They captured Zhennanguan on November 21, securing valuable stocks of fuel and arms in the process. However, these stretched deployments and insufficient troop numbers left the Japanese without adequate reserves when encirclement loomed at Kunlun Pass. Ultimately, they were forced to abandon their offensive plans in Guangdong, pulling back to consolidate defenses around Nanning. Meanwhile, from their base in Chongqing, Chinese commanders had meticulously planned the recapture, turning the tide through careful strategy and sheer determination. Shocked, Japanese dispatched Vice Chief of Staff Sawada Shigeru to Guangzhou. On December 29, 21st Army sent staff to Nanning. Failed to change 21st Brigade's defeat. Imamura planned personal charge for revenge on January 1, but Ando ordered holding Nanning for reinforcements: "The 21st Army is transferring powerful force to annihilate enemy. 5th Division secure Nanning and key locations."   After capturing Kunlun Pass and annihilating two regiments of 21st Brigade, 5th Army thought to recapture Nanning. Remaining 21st Brigade and Taiwan regiments between Jiutang and Batang. At noon January 1, 1940, Oikawa's thousands arrived at Batang; Imamura ordered Oikawa replace killed Sakata. First battle on Hill 441. 1st Division held north side; Japanese south. On January 1, Japanese bombed and attacked; 1st Division reduced to hundred but held. At dawn 2nd, counterattack all day, no progress. On 3rd, Du mobilized 200th and part New 22nd; brutal fighting, heavy casualties. At nightfall, Japanese retreated to Jiutang. On 4th, Japanese abandoned Jiutang to Batang. New 22nd moved into Jiutang. 5th Army attacked Batang; by 12th, no progress. Exhausted with heavy casualties, 5th Army ordered to Silong for rest. Mission transferred to 36th Army. 5th Army withdrew.   On January 7, Chiang flew to Guilin, visiting Qianjiang on 10th to discuss plans with Bai, Chen, Zhang, Xu, Lin. Bai proposed offensive with new armies to recapture Nanning. Chiang approved. On 11th, as Bai issued orders, Chiang overturned, changing to defensive. Japanese gained time for counter-offensive.   To salvage defeat, Japanese transferred 18th Division and Konoye Brigade from Guangdong. Combined with existing, formed 22nd Corps under Seiichi Kuno, under South China Front Army commanded by Reikichi Ando, preparing counteroffensive.   On January 25, a brigade from the Japanese 18th Division and elements of the 15th Division attacked frontally along Yongbin Road, while Konoye Brigade flanked toward Guizhou via Yongyong Road, in Binyang Campaign. Konoye crossed at Tingziwei, then Yongchun County, via Gantang, Luwei, Gula, Wuling to Binyang, cutting rear. Bai Chongxi rushed 175th Division of 46th Army north to tail Konoye. After reinforcements, 21st Army launched offensive to drive and encircle south of Binyang; accumulated supplies in Nanning. On January 22, 18th and Konoye reached attack points. 38th Army Group HQ in Binyang bombed, communications cut, independent combat.   On January 28, Japanese launched offensive (Binyang Operation). On February 3, 41st Infantry of 5th Division occupied Kunlun Pass. On February 4, Ando reached captured Binyang. Nationalists lost Kunlun Pass, lines collapsed, many encircled. Battle ended with withdrawal; February 13, Japanese withdrew to Nanning, lines stalemated.   In the wake of the Binyang clashes, the 18th Division was indeed shifted to Guangzhou. Japanese records from January 28 to February 13 painted a picture of their spoils: they claimed to have captured 19 tanks, 5 light armored vehicles, 30 automobiles, 20 field or mountain guns, 13 rapid-fire guns, and 41 mortars. Additionally, they reported counting 27,041 Chinese bodies on the battlefield and taking 1,167 prisoners. The Chinese forces, for their part, regrouped with their main strength positioned east of the Yongqin Highway, while some elements maneuvered west to harass Japanese rear lines and coordinate actions from the north bank.   On February 21, 1940, Chiang arrived in Liuzhou, residing at Yangjiao Mountain. From February 22, he convened over 100 generals for a four-day Liuzhou Military Conference to review Guinan operations. Chiang demoted Bai Chongxi for poor supervision and Chen Cheng for poor guidance from first- to second-class generals. He also punished and rewarded other senior officers. The 46th Army and 175th Division were commended for discipline. On February 26, Fourth War Zone Commander Zhang Fakui announced: "No need for counterattack on Nanning currently." The entire Guinan Campaign ended.   The defeat embarrassed Chongqing; not only disrupted Guangxi-Vietnam traffic, but massive effort ended in rout. Pre-battle, Guilin Headquarters misjudged Japanese intentions; during, both Guangxi and Huangpu clique leaders showed poor performance, infuriating Chiang. Post-battle punishments were unprecedented in the war.   I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. In November 1939, Japanese forces, including the 5th Division and Taiwan Brigade, landed at Qinzhou Bay, captured Nanning, and advanced to Kunlun Pass. Chinese troops, under Bai Chongxi and reinforced by the elite 5th Army, launched fierce counteroffensives, recapturing Kunlun Pass in December with heavy casualties. 

This week I'm sharing the next installment from the terrific day-long conference convened by the Institute for America, China, and the Future of Global Affairs (ACF) at Johns Hopkins SAIS on April 3rd in Washington — "The China Debate We're Not Having: Politics, Technology, and the Road Ahead." Last week's episode featured Jessica Chen Weiss's opening remarks and the first panel, "What China Wants." This week, I've got the companion panel — "What Does the United States Want?" — which I think pairs beautifully with that first session, and which takes up a question that's arguably harder and more uncomfortable to answer. The panel is moderated by SAIS Dean James Steinberg, who served as Deputy National Security Advisor in the Clinton administration and Deputy Secretary of State under Obama — and who keeps this moving with real sharpness. He's joined by Matt Duss, Executive Vice President at the Center for International Policy, who starts things off with a bracing observation: the United States does not know what it wants. The old foreign policy consensus has shattered, he argues, and neither the Trump administration nor the Democratic establishment has produced a coherent replacement. He locates the most interesting thinking in the progressive wing of the Democratic Party, where he hopes the 2028 primary will force some of these hard questions into the open. Katherine Thompson, a Senior Fellow at the Cato Institute who previously served in the Pentagon and on Capitol Hill, brings a military-strategic lens. She makes a sharp case that the new National Defense Strategy, for all its imperfections, at least opens the door to an honest conversation about trade-offs — something Washington has been allergic to. If you're going to prioritize deterrence in the Indo-Pacific, she argues, you have to actually give things up elsewhere, and the Iran situation is making that tension impossible to ignore. Jonas Nahm, the Andrew W. Mellon Associate Professor at SAIS who served in the Biden administration, reframes economic competition with China in refreshingly concrete terms. Rather than abstract great-power framing, he identifies three specific buckets — affordability and energy, technological catch-up, and manufacturing competitiveness — where Chinese capacity could actually help solve American problems, if we had the political imagination to let it. And Leslie Vinjamuri, president and CEO of the Chicago Council on Global Affairs, brings striking new polling data showing a 40-percentage-point swing in American favorability toward China since 2024 — now at 53 percent — driven largely by Democrats but with movement among Republicans too. She situates this in the fading of pandemic-era hostility and the absence of sustained anti-China rhetoric from the current administration, and adds an invaluable perspective on how utterly confused America's allies are about what Washington actually expects of them. The conversation ranges across Taiwan and strategic ambiguity, whether allies arming up in the Indo-Pacific helps or hurts, the collapse of U.S. credibility on human rights, the future of dollar dominance, and whether the 2028 election will finally force a reckoning with these questions. It's a rich, candid discussion — and a reminder that the hardest debates in U.S.-China policy may not be about China at all. Panelists:— Matt Duss, Executive Vice President, Center for International Policy— Katherine Thompson, Senior Fellow, Cato Institute— Jonas Nahm, Andrew W. Mellon Associate Professor, Johns Hopkins SAIS— Leslie Vinjamuri, President and CEO, Chicago Council on Global Affairs Moderator: James Steinberg, Dean, Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International StudiesSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Last time we spoke about the beginning of the first battle of Changsha. From Chongqing, Chiang debated defensive strategies for Hunan, ultimately adopting Plan B after Xue Yue's pleas, focusing on successive resistance north of Changsha to thwart Japanese advances. Japanese forces, under Okamura Yasuji, launched assaults in Jiangxi and Hunan. In Jiangxi, the 106th and 101st Divisions attacked Huibu and Gao'an, where Chinese troops under Luo Zhuoying and Song Kentang fiercely resisted. Gao'an fell briefly but was recaptured by the 32nd Army and the elite 74th Army, with heavy casualties on both sides, as recounted by soldier Liu Qihuai. In Hunan, Japanese units crossed the Xin Qiang River and landed at Yingtian, facing brutal opposition. At Bijia Mountain, Qin Yizhi's 195th Division held for four days; Battalion Commander Shi Enhua's reinforced unit perished entirely, their fragmented remains mourned by locals. Along the Miluo River, Chen Pei's 37th Army fortified positions, repelling waves of Japanese attacks, including suicide squads disguised as civilians. Recruit Yang Peyao's unit endured bombardments, inflicting significant enemy losses before withdrawing at dusk.   #197 The First Battle of Changsha Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. Major Luo Wenlang, battalion commander of the 3rd Battalion, 55th Regiment, 19th Division of the 28th Army, harbored a peculiar quirk: he couldn't sleep soundly without unwrapping his leg bindings, a small ritual that anchored him in the chaos of war. Since the war's eruption, such luxuries were rare, and unwrapping his bindings every night became an impossibility, leaving him to endure restless slumbers. Tonight, however, sleep eluded him entirely; he tossed and turned on his makeshift bed, his mind a whirlwind of unrest. Two days after the northern Hunan battle ignited like a powder keg, the 55th Regiment received urgent orders from Division Commander Tang Boyin to race to Wukou in Pingjiang County. Their path wound through Luo Wenlang's hometown of Fulinpu, a twist of fate that stirred conflicting emotions. Entering the village under the cover of night, the entire battalion encamped in the commander's modest family village, with battalion headquarters naturally established in his ancestral home.   Luo yearned to step across that familiar threshold but dreaded it, for his parents remained oblivious to a devastating truth. They slaughtered chickens and prepared meat, hosting the battalion staff with drinks and hospitality, after all, this was their son's unit gracing their home. Luo orchestrated door planks and straw for bedding, posted sentries, and deftly evaded his parents until they retired. Before dawn broke, he mustered the troops, ensured they were fed, and led them onward, slipping away like a shadow. By noon on the 22nd, they reached Wukou, only to receive fresh directives: rush to Yingtian to bolster the 95th Division against the enemy's audacious landings. The 3rd Battalion spearheaded the division's reinforcements, marching relentlessly through day and night, arriving at Dongtang, over 30 kilometers southeast of Yingtian—on the 23rd, hearts sinking upon learning Yingtian had already fallen into enemy clutches.   Luo Wenlang sought out the retreating 95th Division Commander Luo Qi to beg for a mission, his resolve unyielding. Luo Qi, anticipating his arrival, relayed Commander Guan Linzheng's ironclad instructions: The 19th Division's reinforcements would assume Dongtang's defenses. With the main force still en route, Luo Qi tasked Luo's battalion with relieving a segment held by a replacement regiment. He handed over a map, sketching a line with a pencil, a simple stroke that thrust Luo Wenlang and his men onto the front lines of fate. An operations staff was dispatched to guide them to the position and oversee the handover.   As the troops advanced, they encountered scattered soldiers fleeing like startled rabbits; seizing a platoon leader revealed they were indeed from the replacement regiment. Mere minutes from division HQ, the enemy was already closing in, a predator's breath hot on their necks. Luo Wenlang and Deputy Battalion Commander Wu Yacui split the battalion, launching a counterattack on Dongtang from dual routes. Fortune favored them; the Japanese held only an exhausted company, crumbling under a single, ferocious charge. They swiftly deployed two companies to the positions, reserving one as a bulwark. By dusk, the full 55th Regiment arrived, accompanied by the rest of the 19th Division's reinforcements, allowing the battered 95th Division, ravaged at Yingtian, to withdraw for desperate reorganization. The regimental commander positioned Luo's 3rd Battalion on the regiment's vulnerable left wing. In the blink of an eye, it was the 27th, aligning with the 15th of the eighth lunar month. Amid the relentless great battle, few noted the calendar, and the skies hung heavy with clouds. Luo Wenlang twisted on his straw bed, his thoughts a snarled knot of anxiety and memory.   At 11 p.m., gunfire shattered the night; a barrage of machine gun bullets riddled the battalion HQ house, raining thatch and dust upon Luo like fallout from a storm. Catastrophe had struck! Luo surged toward the positions with the bugler—his battalion signal chief—and the reserve force, ascending the hilltop in a frenzy. Halfway up, he spotted 8th Company's Lieutenant Platoon Leader Rong Fayu leading over 20 soldiers in retreat. Bellowing "Why unauthorized retreat?" while brandishing his pistol, he compelled Rong to rally and turn back. The Japanese had launched a nocturnal assault; 8th Company Commander Yi Zuitao lay slain by a fatal shot, over a dozen comrades felled in brutal close combat, the survivors scattered like leaves in the wind; the high ground now belonged to the enemy.   Upon learning of Dongtang's loss, the regimental commander personally led the regimental reserve, his face etched with urgency. Under flickering lantern light, poring over the map with Luo, Division Commander Tang Boyin telephoned, his voice a whipcrack of command: Recapture it before dawn, or both would face the merciless hand of military justice. After seizing the high ground, the enemy hesitated to press further; Luo surmised the darkness concealed paths, and their numbers were not overwhelming. Forgoing the regimental reserve, he led 7th Company's 4 squads and remnants of the routed 8th Company in a stealthy ascent. Near the position, a ravine concealed over 20 8th Company soldiers, rallied by Sergeant Squad Leader Tan Tianrong, who had lurked in wait for reinforcements, dreading exposure at dawn under the enemy's gaze.   Spotting the battalion commander personally spearheading the counterattack, Tan Tianrong's face lit with fierce joy; his men, armed with grenades, surged as the vanguard. Intimate with the terrain even in blindness, they hurled explosives into bunkers, trenches, and works. The commander orchestrated the charge; the Japanese force of 40-50 men crumbled, over half slain or maimed, the remnants fleeing northward to their village stronghold. It was past 4 a.m.; the moon pierced the clouds, bathing the earth in a silvery glow. With positions reclaimed, the night revealed its secret: tonight was Mid-Autumn. Moonlight unraveled the tangled threads of his past; Luo draped his clothes over his shoulders, sat beneath the luminous orb, and wept in solitary anguish.   Before the war, devastating news had arrived: his brother Luo Yinong had been killed in Jiangxi. Luo had three brothers; the eldest shouldered half the family's burdens, their bond unbreakable. The brother had enlisted first in the 50th Army, climbing to battalion commander through sheer valor. He and his younger brother had followed suit, inspired by that call to arms.   Wartime conscription demanded only one per family, but battling the devils was a duty for the nation and its people. His brother had risen to deputy regimental commander before his end. The 50th Army notified him first. Engulfed in battle, there had been no time to console his grieving parents or tend to the funeral; it weighed on his heart like an unyielding stone. His sister-in-law, diligent and unassuming, cared for a young boy and carried another child; the long, arduous days ahead loomed like an endless shadow. The night dew brought a biting chill, the moon an icy sentinel; Luo shivered uncontrollably, his tears mingling with the frost.   The sky hung heavy with overcast gloom, yet the moon lurked beyond the clouds, casting a faint, ethereal light that warded off utter darkness. Along the road, a unit's elongated black shadow snaked southward in hurried silence, a serpent of weary resolve pressing through the night. Qin Yizhi reined in his horse, pausing to gaze back: the queue stretched onward, silent and impeccably orderly, belying the exhaustion of a force scarred by days of ferocious combat, their spirits unbroken amid the shadows. After the Japanese seized the 195th Division's defiant outpost at Bijia Mountain, they surged across the Xin Qiang River in a merciless onslaught. The river, shallow enough to wade knee-deep, offered no true impediment; the real barrier was forged from the defenders' scorching blood, a crimson testament to their unyielding stand. The 195th Division clashed in a maelstrom of cruelty; positions were heaped with corpses time and again, the Xin Qiang's waters churning blood-red in relentless cycles of carnage. From the night of the 23rd to the dawn of the 25th, respite was a forgotten dream; Okamura Yasuji, in a gesture of grim respect, inscribed Qin's name in elegant calligraphy and hung it within his command tent, a haunting trophy of the foe's tenacity.   Following their triumphant landing at Yingtian, the Japanese entangled the Ninth War Zone's left-wing defenders in a protracted snare, their advances grinding slowly like a predator toying with prey, menacing the flanks of the frontal troops with insidious intent. On the evening of the 27th, Xue Yue issued the fateful order for the 15th Army Group to withdraw to the precarious ground between the Miluo River and Shangshan City, ushering this blood-soaked force into an all-night march toward the next defensive crucible. Late into the night, a brief halt was called. Soldiers slumped to the ground, adjusting leg wraps and gear with mechanical precision; logistics teams darted through the ranks, distributing rations like lifelines; cooks, having forged ahead, arrived with steaming pots of rice soup, infusing the air with a rare warmth. Though no clamor broke the hush, a quiet camaraderie enveloped the queue, a fleeting balm against the war's chill.   The division staff claimed a flat expanse beside a farmhouse yard for their respite. Qin settled onto a stone roller used for grinding grain, nibbling at his meager ration and sipping the hot soup that steamed in the cool air. Suddenly, moonlight pierced the clouds, cascading down in silvery streams; the familiar contours of the farmhouse stirred a flood of warmth in his heart, evoking memories of home.   Chongqing, Huangshan Villa. Every window was shrouded in double layers of thick curtains, sealing out any sliver of betraying light, as if the very walls conspired to guard secrets from the encroaching night. Tonight's ethereal protagonist rose languidly from the eastern valley, its orange-red moonlight casting an aura of drowsy reluctance, as though it had not fully shaken off the slumber of the day. The feeble glow dappled the building's roof, balcony, and the surrounding hillsides, intersections, and thickets, where armed shadows lurked, capturing every rustle in the oppressive silence. Only upon close inspection could one discern the faint specks of moonlight glinting off steel helmets. Yet, beyond those fortified walls, another realm pulsed with life, a vibrant contrast to the shadowed vigilance outside. The front hall, living room, and dining room blazed with brilliant light. Vibrant flowers, dominated by chrysanthemums in full, defiant bloom, infused the air with color and fragrance; a phonograph murmured a cheerful Guangdong melody, weaving an atmosphere thick with festive joy, a deliberate illusion amid the storm of war.   Chiang Kai-shek, clad in a flowing black silk gown, strode ahead with poised grace, escorting his guests into the dining room alongside the elegantly attired Soong May-ling, their conversation laced with laughter and warmth. At the table, Soong May-ling's smile was a beacon of diplomacy, as she artfully arranged the seating to suit hierarchies and alliances, while servers in crisp white uniforms moved with nimble precision. This was Chiang Kai-shek's intimate Mid-Autumn family banquet; beyond a handful of pivotal military and political figures, the gathering brimmed with relatives. Guests and kin alike noted Chiang's buoyant spirits tonight; his smiles were wide and genuine, his discourse light and expansive, delving into casual topics with uncharacteristic ease.   In September 1939, China's War of Resistance Against Japan had entered its grueling third year. After the initial cataclysm of turmoil and disarray, the government and military had clawed their way to stability, adapting to this unprecedented historical crucible, with operations finally aligning into a semblance of order. According to figures proclaimed by Minister of Military Affairs He Yingqin to Chinese and foreign reporters on the 13th of this month, Japanese invaders had seized 521 counties across 12 provinces, a vast swath of conquest. Yet, the Japanese imperialists had exacted this toll at a staggering cost. Just prior, on August 30, the Hirannuma Cabinet, installed a mere eight months earlier, had collapsed in mass resignation. Hirannuma Kiichiro's predecessor, Konoe Fumimaro, had similarly bowed out amid governmental failures, chiefly the unmet ambitions in the Sino-Japanese War that he had boldly promised to parliament, exacerbating domestic political and economic woes. Days ago, when Wang Pengsheng briefed Chiang on Japan's turbulent politics, he quipped: "Konoe said three months to destroy China; three months didn't work, nor three years, who knows about 30 or 300. Hirannuma had no solutions, down in eight months. Does Abe have good ideas? How long can he be prime minister?" Indeed, Abe Nobuyuki, Hirannuma's successor, would endure a mere four and a half months before resigning in ignominy. Tonight's feast showcased Chiang's favored cuisines: delicate Jiangsu-Zhejiang dishes mingled with robust Sichuan flavors. Chiang abstained from alcohol, raising his cup in mere symbolic toasts to his guests. During the meal, as if by unspoken accord, no one broached the raging domestic battles or the volatile international landscape; conversations meandered through trivialities, skirting anything heavy or discordant, a fragile bubble of normalcy.   On September 3, Britain and France had declared war on Germany, shattering the global order in a seismic shift. Foreign newspapers already bandied the term "Second World War," a phrase that evoked freshness, exhilaration, and sheer terror in equal measure. China's diplomacy surged with newfound vigor. In April, Ambassador to the US Wang Zhengting had negotiated a $20 million loan with American banks on China's behalf. In May, Stalin responded to Chiang's overtures, agreeing to exchange arms for Chinese tea, wool, raw hides, and more. A month later, the first consignment of light and heavy weapons—including artillery and heavy machine guns—arrived via clandestine routes through Xinjiang and Mongolia, bolstering the central army's frontlines. In August, Hu Shih, Wellington Koo, and Chien Tai represented the Nationalist Government at the 19th League of Nations Assembly, laying bare the Japanese imperialists' atrocities in China before the world and rallying global forces for peace to support China's defiant stand. Soon after, British and American civic groups ignited "China Week" campaigns, pressing their governments to aid the beleaguered nation. Waves of foreign volunteers streamed in from distant shores: doctors, journalists, ordnance engineers, even retired soldiers clamoring to join the fray on the frontlines.   "If we could pull America into this war..." Through Soong May-ling's subtle, persuasive influence, Chiang allowed himself to daydream of that prosperous, dynamic young powerhouse across the vast ocean. Thus, on this Mid-Autumn night, his talk turned to America, to his correspondence with President Roosevelt regarding the "tung oil loan." That saga had unfolded the previous October; T.V. Soong had jetted to America, securing a loan with China's tung oil, a commodity scarce in the US, as collateral. China had boldly requested $400 million; America countered with $25 million, a classic tale of "ask high, settle low." Yet, the funds were secured. One success paved the way for many. Soong May-ling had once confided to Chiang: "In mobilizing US aid for China's resistance, I'll make a difference." When Chiang responded with a smile, "Thank you, Madam," he could scarcely foresee how his beautiful wife's extraordinary prowess in fulfilling this solemn vow would astonish him, etching eternal glory for Chinese women worldwide and elevating Soong May-ling to the zenith of her life's achievements.   The most direct echo of the First Battle of Changsha's thunderous saga resides in the Ninth War Zone's meticulous report on the northern Hunan and southern Hubei operations, submitted to the Chongqing Military Committee and Chiang Kai-shek himself, a faded relic now entombed amid the vast ocean of Nationalist Government military and political archives in Nanjing's Second Historical Archives of China. This document, a painstaking compilation of combat dispatches from divisions, armies, and army groups, stands as a testament to valor and sacrifice. Tragically, time's relentless march and human folly have ravaged this priceless artifact, leaving only shards and whispers to conjure the heart-wrenching inferno of that bloody clash.   "October 24, Year 28. Urgent. To Chongqing. Chairman Chiang. Secret. Submitted by Commander Xue on orders." The rice paper has yellowed to a deep, somber hue, brittle and parched; a careless touch could reduce it to dust. Some pages lie fractured, their remnants affixed to white paper, forever unable to reclaim their original wholeness. Leafing through page by page unleashes a pungent miasma, a scorched, acrid, decayed blend that assaults the senses. Traces of fire and water mar the original rice paper sheets, with countless fragments glued haphazardly to white backings, their sequences lost to eternity.   "...The Xin Qiang River spanning from Lujiao to Leishi Mountain, defending a front of over 110 li..." "Enemy 13th and 33rd Divisions, parts of the Hata Detachment, naval units, and artillery, cavalry, engineers totaling..." "...Began attacking us first with artillery... fortifications completely destroyed, then infantry charged; relying on our officers and men all resolved to coexist with the homeland..." "...And launched balloons to direct artillery... our army braved the cannons... repelled them, corpses filling the river, turning the water red..." "Division casualties also reached over a thousand... failed to inflict greater strikes and annihilate... deep inner guilt, besides vigorously training troops awaiting orders to kill the enemy..." "...Attack casualties heavy, then concentrated large forces... artillery fire so dense like continuous firecrackers for hours... released poison gas, Wang Street garrison all heroically sacrificed, then breached... Zhao Gongwu kowtows, October 15"   Zhao Gongwu commanded the 2nd Division under Zhang Yaoming's 52nd Army. This unit first held the line along the Xin Qiang River, then fell back to northeast of Fengjiang Bridge to staunch the enemy tide once more; after October 6, it hammered southward-marching Japanese from the west in the Yanglin Street and Dajing Street regions. Through these crucibles, the division bled over half its strength. A fragment of an envelope clings to a sheet of white paper, its words faintly visible: "Changsha 126-3 Zhang Yaoming," "Hunan Jinjing Air Mail," "Combat Process by..." and the like. The stamp remains remarkably intact—a philatelic gem now. Measuring 1.5 cm square, it features Sun Yat-sen's portrait at its center, inscribed "Republic of China Post" below, with "5" in the upper right, "fen" to the left, and "5" in each lower corner. I sat at the long table in the spacious, brightly lit reading room, staring vacantly, my thoughts grinding to a halt. These remnants are all that endure for posterity, of that monumental battle, of the scorching blood and vanished lives of countless unnamed Chinese soldiers. With hands that once gripped a rifle, I gently caressed those pages from a bygone era; they were cold, devoid of any lingering breath.   As the full moon of the 15th of the eighth month dissolved into the golden-red blaze of sunrise, Qin Yizhi's 195th Division had already plunged into the rugged mountains and dense forests encircling Fulinpu. Per directives from 15th Army Group Commander Guan Linzheng, the 195th was to forge a new defensive bastion centered on Fulinpu, 40 to 70 kilometers from Changsha. Their mandate: stall the Japanese southward juggernaut, granting precious time for allied forces to muster and fortify around the city. Despite the grueling all-night march, morale soared undimmed. The advance chief of staff doled out positions to each regiment, and the troops dove into fortification labors with fervent zeal. The 195th Division's unyielding stand along the Xin Qiang River had already etched preliminary glory upon this unit in its baptism of fire. "Fame in one battle" echoed as a battle cry throughout the division, where collective honor intertwined with personal valor. Honor and triumph formed the bedrock for soldiers and armies alike. Yet, another fire fueled their resolve.   On September 23, amid the Japanese forcing the Xin Qiang River, Guan Linzheng's voice crackled over the phone to Qin Yizhi: "Facing you is the 6th Division." The 6th Division, a name that ignited fury in Chinese troops and civilians, forever linked to the demonic specter of Tani Hisao. Moments later, the whisper spread like wildfire through every trench: "The Japanese army that perpetrated the Nanjing Massacre is right in front." Agitation rippled through the ranks; some donned fresh uniforms and shoes from their packs, casting aside the worn; others flouted discipline to bid farewells to hometown comrades: "Today we fight to the death here; see you in the next life." "Tell my mother I died fighting the Nanjing Massacre enemies."   Some company commanders commanded their mess sergeants to expend all funds on hearty feasts. All Japanese were foes, but the 6th Division embodied a blood debt, an unforgivable vendetta; the Chinese nation does not lightly forget its tormentors. In the Xin Qiang River maelstrom, the 195th Division battled with heroic ferocity. Some soldiers, in their final breaths, murmured: "Die then; it's worth it." Others lamented slaying too few devils, gritting teeth, eyes refusing to close in eternal regret. Now under Inaba Shiro's command, the 6th Division splintered southward after breaching the Xin Qiang; roughly a thousand hounded the 195th to Fulinpu. On the morning of September 29, the Japanese blundered into the 195th's meticulously laid ambush. Qin Yizhi, pulse racing with excitement and tension, fumbled the binoculars from his guard's hand. His command sliced the air: "Begin." War history chronicles: "The 6th Division advanced south from the Miluo River along the Xinshi-Liqiao road and Xinshi-Fulinpu routes. The over a thousand reaching Fulinpu were ambushed by the Nationalist 195th Division, suffering heavy losses." As Japanese artillery and aircraft unleashed hell upon the 195th's positions, Qin orchestrated a swift southward withdrawal to the environs of Shangshan City. Again, without pause, they erected fortifications and set deadly traps.   On the morning of September 30, the pursuers from Fulinpu closed in on Shangshan, their numbers swollen to over 1,500. Qin Yizhi clenched his jaw, his demeanor icy calm, allowing the Japanese to creep into the kill zone before barking: "Hit them hard!" Combat raged from dawn to dusk, obliterating over 700 foes. Qin ascended a hill, surveying through binoculars, then erupted: "Bad! The enemy is retreating." Upon receiving Qin's telegram, Guan Linzheng scrutinized the map, momentarily stunned, then replied: "Enemy shows no retreat signs yet; proceed per original plan. Your unit to block at Shangshan City line until October 2." Xianning, Okamura Yasuji's 11th Army HQ.   Combat maps bristled with markings, staff officers darting amid ringing phones and clattering telegrams. The colossal red arrow in northern Hunan had fractured into tributaries, surging over 100 km southward from the outset; one tendril pierced to Yong'an City, a mere 30 km from Changsha. Vast swaths of northern Hunan lay conquered, yet Okamura sensed the tide turning, it was time to retreat. The Chinese employed their time-honored gradual resistance, battling while retreating with cunning grace. Some units fell back directly, others amassed on flanks—what portent did that hold? In Okamura's shrewd mind loomed an equally shrewd Xue Yue; he envisioned his adversary methodically weaving a snare.   Post-Yingtian landing, the 15th Army Group's timely evasion had unraveled his "Xiang-Gan Operation Plan" like fragile thread. If encircling and annihilating the Chinese main force proved unattainable, what purpose in pressing onward? Telegrams from 3rd Division's Fujita Susumu, 6th's Inaba Shiro, and 13th's Tanaka Seiichi piled on his desk, pleading to assault Changsha—for headlines and Imperial accolades, perhaps, but blind to their exposed supply lines vulnerable to enemy thrusts? Ground logistics teetered on collapse; the air force resorted to airdrops for isolated regiments. Venturing further south would stretch lines to breaking; a severed artery spelled doom for the vanguard. When would these commanders mature into true stewards of the Imperial Army? Okamura fretted and pitied them in equal measure.   At 4 p.m. on September 30, Okamura decreed a halt to advances at Shangshan and Yong'an. He commenced orchestrating the retreat. Changsha, Yuelu Mountain, Ninth War Zone Command Forward HQ. October 1. Xue Yue stood before the map, Guan's latest telegram clutched in hand. Qin's second missive insisted on Japanese withdrawal, corroborated by 15th Army Group scouts from Yingtian: This morning (October 1), Japanese transports unloaded artillery stowed the previous night, hauling it back to Yueyang; intercepted wires revealed a regiment aborting its southward push, standing idle. Guan assessed the mosaic and commanded counteroffensives: intercept if feasible, pursue relentlessly, deny the Japanese escape; he relayed retreat indicators to Xue. Xue paced the chamber, head bowed in contemplation. Chief of Staff Wu Yizhi, Staff Director Zhao Zili, and their cadre tracked his every step with expectant eyes, awaiting the verdict. Xue's thoughts whirled through military stratagems and beyond.   Pre-war, Xue had segmented the war zone's forces into tripartite blocs: Northern Hunan under Guan Linzheng's 15th, Yang Sen's 27th, and Shang Zhen's 20th Army Groups as "A Cluster"; Northern Jiangxi Nanchang with Yunnan Army Lu Han's 1st Army Group and the 74th Army as "B Cluster"; the Wuning, Xiushui, Hunan-Hubei-Jiangxi border guarded by Sichuan Army Wang Lingji's 30th Army Corps, Fan Songpu's Border Advance Army, and 8th Army; augmented by 3 armies' 7 divisions in general reserve. Before the storm broke, Xue pored over maps, tracing every mountain, river, road, and bridge, envisioning burial grounds for the invaders.   Now, beneath Changsha, 200,000 troops formed a tightening net. The "decisive battle in Changsha suburbs" blueprint had been wired to Chongqing. Chiang and the nation yearned for a resounding triumph as the resistance pivoted into a new epoch?! A masterful drama, honed over half a month's toil, neared its crescendo; yet that cunning fox appeared to sniff the trap's metallic tang, freezing in place. "Commander, phone from Minister Chen." "Brother Boling, good news." Chen Cheng's voice brimmed with levity, "Your formal appointment published. What? Ninth War Zone Commander! First to congratulate; document tomorrow." Shedding the "acting" prefix was inevitable; Chiang had intimated as much long ago. But for a man and general, true worth lay not in titles, but in forging indelible feats. Splendor was judged not by underlings, colleagues, or superiors, but by peers in the craft of war.   Unmoved by the promotion, Xue exhaled a profound sigh. Though the 15th's intelligence couldn't confirm a wholesale retreat, preparations for dual contingencies were imperative. Victories came hard; a splendid battle, harder still. He summoned Wu Yizhi and Zhao Zili to devise countermeasures for the enemy's potential flight. October 2, Sichuan Army Yang Sen's 27th Army Group, Yang Gancai's 134th Division special service company, under Company Commander Wan Mingyu, slogged through the profound mountains and forests on the northern Mufu Mountains' flanks. The 134th's covert mandate: infiltrate enemy rear via treacherous terrain, sabotage supply arteries in the Chongyang-Xianning sector, and deliver a dagger to the Japanese spine when opportunity struck, bolstering frontal defenses.   Past 3 p.m., a crystalline mountain stream materialized. Wan decreed a respite. Over 100 soldiers, drained from a half-day's ascent, collapsed like puppets with severed strings. Most propped their torsos with rifles in one hand, fanning hats to ward off the relentless forest mosquitoes with the other. Regaining breath, they devoured rations washed down with stream water. Some unfurled towels and ventured downstream, letting the cool flow rinse away layers of sweat. Then, a muted engine drone encroached from the heavens. Wan peered through the foliage: a low-flying plane vectored southward, its wings emblazoned with the Rising Sun.   A transport; Wan recognized the temporary Japanese airfield near Xianning. With lines overextended, airdrops sustained isolated units. Wan was prying open a can with his bayonet, the tip etching a cross on the lid before levering along the edge; paired with a rice ball, it promised a savory repast. His orderly proffered a cup of fresh stream water; 2nd Platoon Leader Hu Yaozong perched nearby on a rock, smirking, poised to pilfer from the opened tin. Wan warded off this Sichuan Pixian compatriot. The plane droned overhead then.   Both glanced skyward; the platoon quipped: "Open quick, damn, I'll repay two cans later." Commander: "Want cans? Sky has; shoot plane down, enough for two lifetimes, bloat your mother-in-law first." The can hailed from a prior supply raid. Platoon: "You want me to shoot the plane?" Commander: "Bastard! You shooting or not?" The platoon snatched the light machine gun from a tree fork, jamming the butt against his belly, one hand on the grip, aiming crudely: "Come down, you turtle son!" The other hand squeezed the trigger. Wan assumed jest, resuming his task. "Da-da-da..." Wan jolted; the half-opened can tumbled to his feet, spilling Japanese fish onto Chinese soil. Recoil floored the platoon; he hurled the gun like a branding iron, face ashen. Inspecting the trigger, he snarled: "Whose damn fault, why no safety?!" The gunner dashed over; tall and even-tempered: "Safety was on; how'd it fire without pulling?" Wan's initial panic: "Damn! Position exposed."   The company spearheaded the division's reinforced regiment to raze a recent Japanese depot, guarded by a mere company—but exposure doomed the regiment deep in hostile territory. The assault had been plotted for days; pre-departure, Yang Gancai had toasted them. Wan had sworn a blood oath: No return to Sichuan without success. Hu had jested then: "No Sichuan return means wanting Hunan girl as concubine." Banter was fine in peace, but in war's grip, this was no trifling errand. Wan unleashed a torrent of curses, rising to survey the environs. The main force lagged 15 km behind; advance or abort post-blunder? Enemy rear was a labyrinth; this isolated band teetered on a razor's edge. As if to compel a choice, the radio operator approached; Wan itched to lash out. In his fury and indecision, a miracle unfolded.   The transport's engines hacked like a consumptive invalid, then a witness spied the plane banking left, plummeting, its nose inexorably toward a colossal rock 3-4 km distant. It rebounded twice on the stone, nose and left wing crumpling; the fuselage, fragile as parchment, tumbled gently, skewing onto the slope amid splintered trees. Wan gaped, then bellowed: "Assemble!" The men snapped from reverie, charging downhill in a frenzied cascade. One hour later, 134th Deputy Commander and Reinforced Regiment Commander Liu decoded Wan's vanguard transmission via radio. Another hour passed before Liu received Yang Gancai's directive: Abort Mountain Leopard operation; return with documents expeditiously. One day hence, October 3, Okamura Yasuji's original retreat order from October 2 dawn, addressed to northern Hunan's 6th, 33rd Divisions, Nara and Uemura Detachments, plus its Chinese translation, landed on Xue Yue's desk.   Fifteen days later, at the Changsha Victory Celebration, unit accolades were proclaimed; for "shooting down enemy plane, obtaining vital enemy documents," meritorious honors went to 134th Commander Yang Gancai and Deputy Liu. Each received 1000 yuan and one 3rd Class Baoding Medal. Okamura's October 2 order original: Chinese forces retreated to Miluo and Xiushui Rivers banks assembling; to avoid disadvantage, this army should quickly withdraw to original positions, restore combat strength.   Withdrawal plan as follows: … Xue's October 3 order original:   "Northern Hunan frontal units with current posture immediately pursue facing enemy fiercely, must capture in Chongyang-Yueyang south area. ... Pursuit units may detach part to monitor and sweep enemy collection troops; main force execute overtaking pursuit... Already deep behind enemy advance units vigorously destroy enemy transport lines, cut escape routes."   From October 3, Chinese forces unleashed ferocious counteroffensives against the Japanese on three fronts: northern Hunan, southern Hubei, and the Hunan-Hubei-Jiangxi border; the invaders receded like a vanishing tide, never to reclaim their ground. The 25th and 195th Divisions hounded the 6th Division and Nara Detachment from Fulinpu back to the Miluo River, then to the Xin Qiang River. On October 8, the Japanese fled across the Xin Qiang; the 195th's 566th Brigade surged in pursuit, launching a nocturnal raid on Xitang-Jianshan. Gains were modest, but the enemy, entrenched in their den, resisted with feral tenacity. Qin commanded the brigade's withdrawal southward; northern Hunan operations concluded.   In southern Hubei, the 79th Army chased remnants of the 33rd Division from Sanyan Bridge to Pingjiang, across Nanjiang Bridge, hounding them back to their Tongcheng lair. On the Hunan-Hubei-Jiangxi border, 30th Army Group Commander Wang Lingji orchestrated a pincer against Japanese at Xiushui. The foes retreated to Sandu, mounting a stubborn defense. Chinese assaults faltered for three days; on the fourth night's blitz, victory crowned their efforts, expelling the invaders to their original Wuning stronghold. With both armies reclaiming pre-war lines, the First Battle of Changsha drew to its resounding close.   Over days, Xue Yue received a deluge of congratulatory telegrams and letters from the Nationalist Government, Military Committee, National Assembly, myriad civic groups, party officials, and social luminaries. As hoped, among them was Chiang Kai-shek's effusive missive, brimming with joy. For Xue Yue, this one sufficed. Chiang Kai-shek's telegram to Xue Yue:   "In this northern Hunan campaign, over half the enemy was annihilated. The triumphant news has invigorated the nation, all due to effective command and soldiers' valor; I commend without reservation. Thoroughly investigate and report meritorious personnel from this battle; also report the dead and wounded for awards and relief. With this initial victory foundation laid, our officers and men's responsibilities grow heavier; urge your subordinates to extra vigilance, redoubled effort, avoiding arrogance or complacency, to amass great achievements, my deepest hopes."   As if countering Chongqing's high-powered broadcasts, Japanese radios in Wuhan, Nanjing, Beiping, and Manchukuo blared at full volume: "In this Xiang-Gan operation, valiant Imperial forces penetrated over 100 km into northern Hunan, sweeping anti-peace elements, routing Chinese central main forces, inflicting over 40,000 enemy casualties, a pivotal triumph advancing the holy war. Having achieved objectives, Imperial troops have victoriously withdrawn..."   In the aftermath of the First Battle of Changsha, the Japanese high command spun a tale of calculated restraint, insisting their assault was merely a spoiling raid, a calculated jab never intended to seize and hold the city indefinitely. With brazen confidence, they downplayed their toll, claiming a mere 850 souls lost to death and 2,700 wounded in the fray, while boastfully asserting they had slain 44,000 Chinese defenders and taken 4,000 captive, painting a picture of overwhelming triumph amid the smoke and ruin. Yet, foreign military observers, peering through the fog of propaganda with detached scrutiny, painted a starkly different canvas. They gauged Chinese losses at a far more tempered 20,000 killed and wounded, a heavy but bearable scar on the nation's resolve, while estimating Japanese casualties soared to around 30,000, a grievous hemorrhage that belied the invaders' claims of minimal sacrifice. Military historian Michael Clodfelter, sifting through the annals of conflict, ventured an even grimmer tally: a staggering 50,000 Japanese casualties endured in the relentless clash, a testament to the ferocity of Chinese resistance and the high price of imperial ambition. In the battle's locale, neither side claimed clear victory, but globally for the resistance, it favored China. I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. The First Battle of Changsha unfolded in September 1939 during China's War of Resistance Against Japan. Japanese forces under Okamura Yasuji advanced into Hunan and Jiangxi, crossing rivers and capturing key positions like Yingtian amid fierce Chinese defenses led by Xue Yue. 

Opening Remarks & Session 1: What China WantsJohns Hopkins SAIS ACF Conference, April 3, 2026This week's episode features audio from a day-long conference hosted by the Institute for America, China, and the Future of Global Affairs (ACF) at Johns Hopkins SAIS, held on April 3rd in Washington, DC. The conference, titled "The China Debate We're Not Having: Politics, Technology, and the Road Ahead," brought together a wide range of scholars, former officials, and analysts to interrogate some of the foundational assumptions underlying US policy toward China — a conversation I found compelling enough to share directly with Sinica listeners, with the full blessing of the organizers.You'll hear two segments in this episode.Opening Remarks — Jessica Chen WeissACF's inaugural faculty director Jessica Chen Weiss opens the conference by framing its central provocation: that much of the prevailing US policy discourse assumes an intrinsically zero-sum competition with China, and that this assumption has not been adequately examined. She argues for a more rigorous, evidence-based conversation — one that takes seriously the possibility that American and Chinese interests are competitive but not necessarily adversarial, and that may even leave room for complementarity in some domains. She previews the day's three thematic sessions — on what China wants, what the United States wants, and the stakes of technological and AI rivalry — and situates the whole enterprise in what she describes as a hinge moment in world history.Session 1: What China WantsModerated by Demetri Sevastopulo of the Financial Times, the first panel takes up the deceptively simple question of what China is actually trying to achieve on the world stage — and whether its ambitions are as expansive as much US policy discourse assumes.Jessica Chen Weiss argues that China's core objectives remain relatively modest and sovereignty-focused: security, development, and legitimacy within an order long dominated by the United States. She pushes back on the idea that China is eager to assume the burdens of global leadership, noting that Chinese interlocutors are acutely aware of the domestic overextension that has constrained American power. Sevastopulo coins — with Weiss's amusement — the term "China-first" to describe Beijing's orientation.Dan Taylor, drawing on his decades in the Defense Intelligence Agency, urges the audience to take Chinese leadership statements seriously rather than projecting worst-case intentions onto them. He notes that Beijing still sees itself as a developing nation with enormous domestic work ahead, and that its articulated goals leave considerable room for interpretation before one arrives at the conclusion that China seeks to displace the United States as global hegemon.Arthur Kroeber adds an economic dimension, tracing how China's export-driven model has generated massive global surpluses — and why the resulting tensions with trading partners are, in his view, a structural problem rather than evidence of strategic malice. He argues that much of what looks like geopolitical aggression is better understood as the consequence of an economic model operating at enormous scale with insufficient domestic demand to absorb its own output.Shao Yuqun, speaking from her perch at the Shanghai Institutes for International Studies, offers the most pointed challenge to the panel's relatively sanguine framing. She argues that the United States' own behavior — erratic policy, withdrawal from multilateral commitments, and the disruptions of the Trump era — has itself destabilized the order that American strategists claim to be defending. She is measured but direct, and her presence gives the conversation a texture that too many Washington panels lack.The discussion ranges across China's Iran diplomacy, the prospects for a US-China summit, the question of whether Beijing is exploiting Trump-era tensions to deepen ties with traditional US allies, and — in a lively closing exchange — who the next generation of Chinese leadership looks like (with Kroeber's deadpan answer, "Xi Jinping," getting the biggest laugh of the session).Guests:Jessica Chen Weiss, David M. Lampton Professor of China Studies, Johns Hopkins SAIS; Inaugural Faculty Director, ACFDan Taylor, Adjunct Researcher, Institute for Defense Analyses; Senior Fellow, Johns Hopkins SAIS ACFArthur Kroeber, Founding Partner, Gavekal DragonomicsShao Yuqun, Director, Institute for Taiwan, Hong Kong & Macao Studies, Shanghai Institutes for International StudiesModerator: Demetri Sevastopulo, US-China Correspondent, Financial TimesRemaining sessions from the conference — on what the United States wants, tech rivalry and competing visions of the future, and a fireside chat between Henry Farrell and Alondra Nelson on the AI race reconsidered — will be released over the coming weeks.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Economic historian Adam Tooze returns to Sinica fresh from the China Development Forum and his second extended visit to Beijing in under a year. In this wide-ranging conversation, Adam and I cover the 15th Five-Year Plan — what it signals about Beijing's development priorities and whether it represents a genuine shift away from investment-led growth — and the extraordinary scale of China's renewable energy buildout, which Adam argues may be bringing us to the global peak of CO2 emissions right now.They discuss the concept of the “big green state,” why Western analysts keep dancing around the role of the CPC in driving China's environmental transformation, and what the “Chinamaxxing” phenomenon says about a slow but real reckoning in Western public consciousness. From Europe's evolving posture toward China — caught between EV anxieties and transatlantic rupture — to China's role in the Global South's energy future, the conversation moves through coal transitions, Indonesian nickel zones, African microgrids, and the collapse of the flying geese model.The episode closes with a frank exchange on the Iran war, the postponed Trump-Xi summit, the stunning political silence on American campuses, and what Beijing is most likely doing: sitting pretty and waiting it out. Adam also offers a preview of his forthcoming book on the energy transition — which turns out to be another massive one — and recommends Tim Sahay and Wang Hui as essential reading.02:44 – Adam's Chinese language study: HSK3, the Confucius Institute curriculum, and the joys of chasing characters09:41 – The jìhuà/guīhuà distinction and what the shift in nomenclature from the 11th Five-Year Plan onward actually signals12:01 – The 15th Five-Year Plan: green energy tinkering, sci-tech ambitions, and the human development dimension18:10 – Does Beijing genuinely mean to shift from investment-led growth? Reading “high quality development” and “common prosperity”22:38 – The Great Reckoning: has Western intellectual and policy consciousness actually moved on China?29:45 – Environmental authoritarianism, the CPC as mobilizing institution, and why Xi's “petty bourgeois environmentalism” deserves to be taken seriously33:39 – Persistent misperceptions of China in Western discourse; the “jaundiced American” trench perspective39:16 – European neuralgia: EV overcapacity, Ukraine, and whether transatlantic rupture opens a window for China45:02 – China and the Global South: the end of the flying geese model, African microgrids, Indonesian nickel zones, and BRI record lending59:32 – Mark Carney's “age of rupture”: does the framing capture something real, or does it flatter the West?01:05:18 – What Beijing sees from its windows: Iran, Venezuela, the postponed Trump-Xi summit, and a five-point plan for Chinese hegemony (that won't happen)01:14:55 – Preview of Adam's forthcoming book on the energy transition and the “second world” thesisPaying It Forward: Tim Sahay (PolyCrisis / Phenomenal World)Recommendations:Adam: Wang Hui's The End of the RevolutionKaiser: The Chinese series Shēng mìng shù (Born to Be Alive)See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

This week on Sinica, I welcome journalist and former colleague Chang Che. His recent New Yorker piece "How China Learned to Love the Classics" generated enormous attention. We explore one of the more surprising cultural phenomena in contemporary China: a growing, state-backed enthusiasm for the Greco-Roman classics. We dig into what's actually driving this revival, from the genuine intellectual curiosity of scholars like He Yanxiao, who fell in love with the Odyssey as a Chinese high school student and went on to earn a Chicago PhD, to what might be the more deliberate strategic ambitions of figures like Politburo member Li Shulei and the shadow of philosopher Liu Xiaofeng's Straussianism. We also compare Chang's warmly enchanted 2022 China Project piece on Austrian classicist Leopold Lieb to the politically sharper New Yorker piece four years later — and ask what that shift in tone tells us about what's actually changed. This is an episode about civilizational discourse, soft power, and the strange fate of scholarship when the state decides it finds your obscure passion useful.00:32 – Kaiser introduces the episode from Beijing and reflects on the asymmetry in how the West covers Chinese intellectual curiosity 04:08 – Civilizationist discourse: Spengler, Huntington, and The Civilization Trap 10:56 – Introducing Chang Che and the evolution from his 2022 China Project piece to the New Yorker 15:38 – How Chang first got drawn into the subject: Latin classes, Charlottesville, and young Chinese classicists returning from American PhDs 21:38 – What changed in four years: the state moves from background to foreground 25:28 – Inside the institutional push: what China's "classics departments" actually look like, and who controls the definition of "classics" 31:13 – Xi Jinping's letter to Greek scholars and the move, perhaps, to sever ancient Greece from the modern West 39:57 – Liu Xiaofeng, Leo Strauss, and why Strauss fever gripped Chinese intellectuals after 1989 47:03 – The Padilla Peralta "incident" and the strange porousness between American and Chinese discourse communities on the classics 52:13 – Chenchen Zhang's framework: civilizationist discourse claims difference internationally while enforcing homogeneity domestically 57:30 – He Yanxiao, K-pop, and the idea of "Chinatown classics" 01:07:13 – Where will China's classics revival be in ten years?Paying It Forward: Dongxian Jiang (Fordham) and Simon Luo (Nanyang Technological University)Recommendations: Chang recommends House of the Dragon; Kaiser recommends the Ah-Q Arkestra, led by trombonist Matt Roberts, whose latest album Méiyǒu yìjiàn is on Spotify.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Why was Ai Weiwei kidnapped and held prisoner by the Chinese government? How did the 2008 Sichuan earthquake radicalise him into taking aim at the authorities through art? What's behind Ai Weiwei's belief that there is a serious censorship issue in the West?  Rory and Alastair are joined by Artist and Activist, Ai Weiwei, to answer all this and more.  Search IG.com to find out more and/or Look for IG in your app store. Join The Rest Is Politics Plus: Start your free trial at therestispolitics.com to unlock exclusive bonus content – including Rory and Alastair's miniseries – plus ad-free listening, early access to episodes and live show tickets, an exclusive members' newsletter, discounted book prices, and a private chatroom on Discord. Social Producer: Celine Charles Video Editor: Josh Smith + Bruno Di Castri Producer: Alice Horrell Senior Producer: Nicole Maslen Head of Politics: Tom Whiter Exec Producers: Tony Pastor + Jack Davenport Advertise with us: Partnerships@goalhanger.com Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

David M. Lampton—“Mike”—is one of America's most distinguished scholars of U.S.–China relations, director of China Studies Emeritus at Johns Hopkins SAIS, and the author of landmark works on Chinese politics and foreign policy. He joins me this week to discuss a striking new Foreign Affairs essay he co-authored with the eminent Chinese international relations scholar Wang Jisi of Peking University: “America and China at the Edge of Ruin: A Last Chance to Step Back from the Brink.”Written against the backdrop of President Trump's planned visit to China (and before the outbreak of the U.S.–Israeli war on Iran), the essay is less a routine policy paper than an urgent intervention — two veteran scholars, one American and one Chinese, throwing a rope across a widening chasm. They argue that strategic rivalry has become self-reinforcing, that the greatest danger is no longer deliberate conflict but accidental war driven by miscalculation and escalation dynamics neither side fully controls, and that a rare, narrow window for “a new normalization” may now be opening.We range across the essay's boldest claims — on Taiwan as the unlikely starting point for stabilization, the corrosive logic of securitization, the ghost of the first Cold War, and the looming talent crisis in serious China studies — in a meaty, substantive conversation.3:39 How the Lampton–Wang Jisi collaboration came together6:31 The division of labor and the essay's unified voice9:15 Wang Jisi's cognitive empathy and his unusual depth of American understanding13:57 The essay's emotional register: veteran scholars and the specter of another Cold War16:32 From reassurance to deterrence—and why deterrence keeps getting harder to maintain25:02 Mirror-image threat narratives as self-fulfilling operating systems32:08 Securitization, the “one-way ratchet,” and whether economic interdependence can be rebuilt39:23 Accidental war: what has changed since Hainan 2001 and Belgrade 199944:16 Where the most damaging choices were made—China's Ukraine pivot, U.S. arms-control withdrawals51:29 The window of opportunity: Trump's China visit, the 4th Plenum, and post-Iran recalculation1:01:30 Taiwan as the counterintuitive starting point for stabilization1:10:03 Collapse fantasies, hubris, and the Pearl Harbor danger of “act now or lose the window”1:13:14 The looming China-talent crisis and the future of the fieldPaying It ForwardMike highlights Rosie Levine, executive director of the U.S.–China Education Trust, where she is leading a major new initiative to expand serious American scholarship in China and encourage Chinese institutions to open their doors wider to foreign researchers and students.RecommendationsMike: The Raider by Stephen R. Platt (Knopf, 2025) — a biography of Major Evans Carlson, the swashbuckling Marine officer who trained with Chinese Communist forces in the 1930s, befriended Zhu De, brought the word “gung-ho” into English, and died in 1947 just in time to miss both the PRC's turn away from liberty and McCarthyism's persecution at home.Kaiser: “How China Learned to Love the Classics,” a New Yorker piece by Chang Che on the remarkable renaissance of interest in Greco-Roman philosophy and literature in contemporary China — and what it says about the world we now inhabit. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

This week on Sinica, I speak with Daniela Stockmann and Ting Luo, co-authors of Governing Digital China, a new book that examines how an authoritarian state governs a digital ecosystem it doesn't fully own, can never fully control, and yet fundamentally depends on. Danie — a professor of digital governance at the Hertie School in Berlin and a returning Sinica guest, having joined us way back in 2014 to discuss her earlier book on media commercialization and authoritarian rule — and Ting, associate professor in government and artificial intelligence at the University of Birmingham, together offer a richly empirical account of the triangular relationship between the Chinese state, major platform companies, and ordinary internet users. Rather than treating firms as mere instruments of party control or citizens as passive subjects of surveillance, they develop a framework they call "popular corporatism," which captures how bargaining, incentives, and user preferences shape what is and isn't permissible in China's digital spaces — including the endlessly misunderstood social credit system.4:32 — The digital dilemma: how digital platforms simultaneously empower economic development and create political risk for the party-state — a tension that isn't unique to authoritarian regimes7:45 — Why the command-and-control model falls short: platforms require technical expertise and user engagement the state lacks, and firms like Tencent and Sina have real leverage as a result11:41 — Popular corporatism explained: why users — including the "silent majority" of lurkers — must be foregrounded in any account of China's digital governance, and how firms become state "consultants" and "insiders"21:09 — The survey: GPS-based nationally representative sampling, how to desensitize politically sensitive questions, and why this kind of research can no longer be conducted in China27:22 — Lurkers vs. discussants: the 90-9-1 rule and the counterintuitive finding that users who perceive more openness on platforms like WeChat and Weibo report higher political trust in the central government35:40 — Functional liberalization: why partial openness should be understood as governance strategy, not mere concession — and what the fandom-community doxing wars illustrate about that39:23 — The social credit system: what it actually is, what it is not, and why the Black Mirror version is a myth42:38 — Two subsystems, one misunderstood system: the financial/commercial credit infrastructure, the local-government behavioral programs, and how Sesame Credit and court blacklists actually fit together46:20 — The privacy paradox and political trust: why convenience routinely overrides stated privacy preferences — and why where Alipay is most embedded, residents trust the state most52:42 — Stability, exportability, and the Orwell-versus-Huxley question: what preconditions popular corporatism requires, which other developmental states it might apply to, and why China's digital governance is better understood as a coercion-cooption balancing actPaying It ForwardTing Luo recommends Ning Leng, assistant professor at Georgetown University and author of Politicizing Business: How Firms Are Made to Serve the Party State in China.Daniela Stockmann recommends Felix Garten, postdoctoral researcher at the Hertie School, whose work examines how Chinese tech companies behave when operating in regulatory environments outside China — including the EU, Malaysia, and Singapore.RecommendationsDaniela: The Legend of the Female General 《锦月如歌》, a Chinese historical drama available on YouTube with English subtitles, especially for anyone interested in internal martial arts and martial heroines in Chinese popular culture.Ting Luo：Bordeaux, France — specifically, just going there and drinking excellent wine.Kaiser: Two Substack newsletters for following China's relationship with the Middle East, especially as the American-Israeli war against Iran continues to unfold: Jonathan Fulton's China-MENA Newsletter and Jesse Marks's Coffee in the Desert See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.