NEWHANFU

When Xu Yiyang (徐艺洋) stepped onto the runway at the Sanya (三亚) International Bridal Fashion Week, she did more than just showcase dresses; she ignited a conversation about style, celebrity, and personal evolution. The young artist, known for her roles in television and variety shows, took on the role of a bridal experience officer, presenting two distinct looks that captured widespread attention. Her appearance quickly trended on social media, with fans and critics alike praising her poised demeanor and flawless appearance in unedited photos. This event marked a significant moment in her career, transitioning from a pop idol to a fashion influencer, and left many wondering about the motivations behind her bridal-themed debut. Golden Cheongsam Glamour The first outfit was a modern interpretation of the classic cheongsam, crafted in a shimmering gold hue that highlighted Xu Yiyang's fair complexion and elegant posture. Designers blended traditional elements with contemporary touches, such as a semi-high neckline and a central bow fastening, which added a playful yet refined edge. The dress featured a floor-length silhouette with a high slit, allowing for fluid movement that echoed both grace and confidence on the catwalk. This combination of old and new resonated with viewers, who noted…...

In the heart of ancient China, dance was not merely entertainment but a vibrant expression of life and culture, particularly during the Tang Dynasty. This era, known for its economic prosperity and cultural exchanges, saw dance flourish in ways that might surprise modern observers. Today, however, the lively dance floors of old seem a distant memory, leading many to wonder why such a rich tradition has faded. This article delves into the dynamic world of Tang dances, exploring their forms and the historical shifts that quieted their rhythms, offering a fresh perspective on a cultural evolution that resonates beyond time. Vibrant Jianwu Jianwu (健舞), or vigorous dance, epitomized the energy and strength of Tang performers, captivating audiences with its lively movements. This style included subtypes like Zhezhi (柘枝), which originated from Central Asia and featured solo female dancers moving to drumbeats in a blend of power and grace. Historical records, such as those in Yuefu Zalu (乐府杂录), highlight how these dances reflected the era's openness to foreign influences, with performers like Gongsun Daniang (公孙大娘) celebrated for their skill. Her performances, described in poetry, showcased a mastery that left a lasting impression on spectators, illustrating how Jianwu became a symbol of…...

You have seen it in countless historical Chinese dramas, from The Story of Minglan (知否) to Nirvana in Fire (琅琊榜). A character, perhaps Shen Li (沈璃) from The Legend of Shen Li (与凤行), lounges gracefully, not on a chair, but on a piece of furniture that looks like a curved armrest. It seems incredibly comfortable, a perfect prop for scenes of scholarly contemplation or leisurely repose. But what is this object? It is not a chair at all. This is the Yinji (隐几), an ancient support that was the epitome of comfort and intellectual attitude for centuries of Chinese literati. More than just furniture, it was a portable sanctuary for relaxation and a symbol of a mindful approach to life. Not a Chair The Yinji, also known as a leaning stool or armrest, was a quintessential item in ancient Chinese interiors, particularly for use on a Ta (榻), a low platform bed. Its primary function was to provide support for the back, the arms, or even the side of the body. Imagine a portable sofa arm that could be placed wherever one desired a comfortable lean. It was designed for ease of movement, often light enough to be carried outdoors…...

What if you could bypass marriage and become a career woman in the Ming Dynasty? In an era dominated by the saying "a woman without talent is virtuous," the path for women was overwhelmingly prescribed: domestic confinement, learning needlework, and accepting an arranged marriage. Yet, a remarkable alternative existed behind the towering vermilion walls of the Forbidden City. The imperial palace offered a select group of women a chance to become female officials, known as Nüguan (女官). These were not mere servants but educated administrators who managed vast swathes of palace operations, from finances and rituals to education and security. This was a rare space for female agency within a rigidly patriarchal system. The Selection Becoming a Nüguan was an arduous process with intense competition. Candidates, typically aged between 13 and 20, had to meet stringent criteria. Their family background was scrutinized; they had to come from "good families"—often the daughters of low-ranking officials or commoners, but not from professions like medicine or commerce. This ensured their loyalty and prevented powerful clans from gaining internal influence. Physical appearance required dignity, not dazzling beauty, as these women would represent the imperial household. The evaluation of moral character was particularly severe. Local…...

When winter's chill embraced ancient China, a unique sense of joy permeated the air. Unlike the vibrant energy of spring or the abundant harvests of autumn, the colder months offered a distinct pleasure. As snow blanketed the landscape in a pristine white, people found warmth and security indoors, their minds filled with delightful winter fantasies. What did they do to pass the time? The ancients left behind a legacy of elegant and amusing pastimes that transformed the season into a period of celebration and reflection. From dynamic sports on ice to quiet moments appreciating nature's beauty, their activities were both meaningful and joyful, providing a fascinating glimpse into a world where winter was not merely endured but enthusiastically welcomed. Ice Games Among the most popular winter sports was Bingxi (冰嬉), a term encompassing various ice activities. Records of these games date back to the Sui and Tang dynasties, but they truly flourished later. By the Ming dynasty, Bingxi had become part of military training, with a special office established to oversee it. The Qing dynasty marked the peak of these ancient ice sports. Emperors encouraged Bingxi to strengthen the Eight Banners army, believing it enhanced their physical prowess and combat…...

In ancient China, a luxuriant beard was the ultimate symbol of masculine maturity and charm. Historical portraits and literary classics are filled with descriptions of venerable men distinguished by their impressive facial hair. Yet in contemporary China, from the bustling streets of Shanghai to the screens of popular television dramas, the bearded face has all but disappeared. This shift raises a compelling question about the evolution of male aesthetics. Why has a feature once so central to a man's identity fallen so dramatically out of favor? The answer lies at the intersection of changing beauty standards, media influence, and a fundamental redefinition of what constitutes male attractiveness today. Historical Significance For centuries, facial hair was far more than a simple biological trait; it was a powerful social signifier. In the hierarchy of classical aesthetics, a fine beard indicated wisdom, virility, and social standing. Historical texts and paintings consistently depict revered figures, from scholars to generals, adorned with beards. The legendary warrior Guan Yu (关羽), a central character in the Romance of the Three Kingdoms (三国演义), is famously remembered as the "Gentleman with the Beautiful Beard." His long, flowing beard was an integral part of his formidable and honorable image, a…...

Ancient China's bureaucratic system was a vast and intricate network, filled with roles that might seem odd or mysterious to modern eyes. These positions, with their unique names and specialized duties, offer a glimpse into the political ingenuity of bygone eras. Far from being mere curiosities, they played vital parts in maintaining social order and supporting the imperial machinery. This article delves into four such fascinating jobs, revealing how they evolved and why they mattered. From tutors to crime-fighters, these officials shaped history in ways that still capture our imagination today. 1. The Taizi Xima (太子洗马) Imagine a job title that sounds like it involves scrubbing horses, but actually places you at the heart of imperial power. The Taizi Xima was exactly that—a high-ranking tutor and confidential secretary to the crown prince. Contrary to what the name suggests, this role had nothing to do with equine care. Instead, it focused on guiding the future ruler through education and state affairs. Originating in the Qin Dynasty, the title derived from a term meaning "pioneer," reflecting the official's duty to lead and advise. Holders of this position curated the prince's library, instructed him in classics, and accompanied him on journeys, building a…...

In a recent preview for the period drama Biao Mei Wan Fu (表妹万福), set against a Ming Dynasty backdrop, actress Song Zuer's (宋祖儿) character is seen outdoors wearing what appears to be a structured, clasp-fastened undergarment. This has sparked a fiery online debate: Was it historically accurate for a woman to reveal her inner wear during this era, or is this merely a creative costume design choice? The scene challenges modern perceptions of Ming fashion, often imagined as uniformly modest and restrictive. To understand this sartorial choice, we must delve into the specific garment in question and its place in the private versus public life of a Ming gentlewoman. Zhuyao Unveiled The garment causing the stir is not a modern invention but a historical piece known as a Zhuyao (主腰). Popular during the Yuan and Ming periods, it was sometimes poetically called a "pleasure-binding jacket." Its defining feature was a front opening secured by ties or clasps, a distinct departure from the more common wraparound styles. While the overarching term for inner wear in this period is often debated, the Zhuyao stands out for its tailored construction. Surviving artifacts show it could be worn with or without shoulder straps, which could…...

In the television series Strange Tales of Tang Dynasty Ⅲ: Chang'an ( 唐朝诡事录之长安), two officials are on a mission to locate a mysterious artifact—a golden slip. This object holds the key to unraveling a complex mystery. What many viewers might not realize is that this plot device is not merely a writer's invention. It is based on a real, historical treasure connected to one of China's most powerful rulers, Empress Wu Zetian (武则天). This gleaming piece of gold offers a tangible link to her reign, raising a compelling question: could this small object have truly held significance for the fate of an entire dynasty? The Golden Proof The prop in the show is a detailed replica of an actual artifact housed in the Henan Museum. This genuine Jin Jian (金简), or Golden Slip, measures 36.2 centimeters in length, 8 centimeters in width, and weighs 223.5 grams. Its gold content exceeds an impressive 96%. The surface is devoid of intricate patterns. Instead, its value lies in the sixty-three characters etched into the metal. These words form a personal plea from the Empress, asking the heavens to absolve her of her worldly sins. This slip remains the only known relic directly tied…...

In the heart of ancient China, a bride's journey to her new home was marked by a procession of carefully curated items, each telling a story of family love and societal expectations. From the bustling streets depicted in The Story of Minglan (知否知否应是绿肥红瘦) to the intricate details in Flourished Peony (国色芳华), dowries served as more than mere possessions; they were a woman's anchor in a world defined by marital bonds. These collections, often prepared from a daughter's birth, reflected deep cultural roots where marriage was not just a union but a strategic alignment of families. Parents invested years, sometimes even mortgaging properties, to assemble dowries that would ensure their daughter's dignity and security. This practice, steeped in tradition, highlighted the delicate balance between affection and social standing, weaving a tapestry of hope and responsibility that transcended generations. Dowry Components Ancient Chinese dowries were meticulously divided into practical and symbolic categories, tailored to a family's means. For ordinary households, items like beds, chests, quilts, and pillows formed the core, as seen in historical records and dramas such as The Story of Minglan. These objects, though simple, embodied parental devotion, with families often measuring the groom's home beforehand to customize furniture. In…...