Latest news with #ZhangChenlin
Irish Examiner
31-07-2025
- Climate
- Irish Examiner
31 people trapped in nursing home died in floods, Beijing officials say
A group of elderly people trapped in a flooded nursing home were among at least 70 people who died during powerful storms that lashed Beijing and neighbouring provinces, Chinese officials have said. Thirty-one people died at the Taishitun Town Elderly Care Centre when Beijing's Miyun district became one of the hardest hit areas by storms that dumped nearly a year's worth of rain in the area over a few days, they said. Floodwaters surged in the area on Monday and many were caught unprepared. Rescuers evacuate a stranded villager in Liulimiao Town of Huairou District on the outskirts of Beijing (Zhang Chenlin/Xinhua via AP) Officials offered a rare public apology on Thursday when they announced the deaths. 'For a long time, this senior centre was in the town's centre and was safe, and such was not included in the preparedness plans. This means that our prepared plans had holes,' Miyun Party secretary Yu Weiguo said, expressing his condolences and adding it was a 'bitter lesson'. The care centre housed 69 residents, including 55 who were disabled in some capacity. The facility sat on low-lying ground near a river that had flooded after the unusually intense rains, local media outlet Caixin reported. When the floods hit on Monday, there were 77 people in the building including staff. The nursing home was featured in a rescue story from state broadcaster CCTV showing rescuers in boats pulling people out of windows without mentioning any deaths. 'Through hours of a concerted effort, they successfully rescued 48 people,' a caption of the video story said without mentioning anyone had died. The city later announced 28 people died in Miyun district on Tuesday after rescuers could get to the scene, but did not disclose who had died and where. Villagers carrying belongings walk past soldiers heading to rescue trapped villagers on a road damaged by floods after heavy rains in Miyun district on the outskirts of Beijing (Andy Wong/AP) China's government censors have tightened information control since leader Xi Jinping came to power in 2012, seeing it as crucial to preventing unrest. In recent years, increasingly more topics from negative news about the economy to basic information about violent attacks, such as the number of injured people, have been subject to censorship. When the waters came this week, they rose quickly to two metres (6.5ft) at the deepest points, Beijing officials said. Many could not escape. One Beijing resident's 87-year-old mother managed to get out of the elderly care centre in Miyun, Caixin reported. 'She doesn't know where she got the strength, but she managed to climb on to the windowsill,' she said, noting her mother's roommate was unable to get up and drowned. Officials said 44 people died in Beijing. In neighbouring Hebei province, authorities announced an additional eight deaths on Thursday and 16 deaths in total this week. A flooded area where a minibus went missing after heavy rain in Datong city in north China's Shanxi province (Xinhua via AP) In northern Shanxi province, authorities announced on Wednesday evening that 10 people were dead after a minibus carrying farm workers washed away in heavy rain. Four people were still missing as the rescue continued, according to a city government statement three days after the bus disappeared.
Borneo Post
14-07-2025
- Politics
- Borneo Post
At the gateway to China's resistance, memories of war echo 88 years on
This photo taken on July 4, 2025 shows Lugou Bridge and the gate of Wanping Town in Beijing, capital of China. (Xinhua/Zhang Chenlin) BEIJING (July 15): Some 20 kilometers southwest of Tian'anmen Square in Beijing, among the skyscrapers, speeding silver bullet trains, and a web of asphalt roads lies a patch of green. Here, time seems to slow down. A smoky-gray wall encloses a fortress-style town. Beyond its western gate, a stone bridge arches over the shimmering Yongding River. Also known as the Marco Polo Bridge after the Venetian traveler, Lugou Bridge had long been celebrated for its moonlit dawns. Over the past week, footsteps echoed beneath the arched gates of Wanping, the old walled town, as waves of visitors came and went — old and young, many from far away, in search of memory, not spectacle. This year marks the 80th anniversary of the victory in the Chinese People's War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression and the World Anti-Fascist War. It was from this very place that the whole-nation resistance began during that long and arduous struggle. On July 7, 1937, with China mired in poverty and growing foreign encroachment, Japanese troops stationed on the outskirts of Beijing — then called Beiping — demanded entry into Wanping to search for a soldier they claimed went missing during a military drill. Even as negotiations were underway, they opened fire on Chinese troops near the bridge and began shelling the town. Lugou Bridge occupied a key route in and out of Beijing at the time, making it a prime target when Japan launched its full-scale invasion of China. The crisis awakened the Chinese nation. Regional resistance that had emerged since Japan's incursion into northeast China in 1931 soon turned into a nationwide effort. People set aside whatever rifts they had and pointed their guns, blades and anything they could wield outward, fighting uncompromisingly until Japan's surrender in 1945. This photo taken on July 4, 2025 shows shell craters on the wall of Wanping Town in Beijing, capital of China. (Xinhua/Zhang Chenlin) Over the past 88 years, the land has changed beyond recognition — cities have risen, borders have shifted, generations have come and gone. Yet, the Chinese people have preserved the town much as it was, with its shell-scarred walls standing quietly as a witness of the past. Within those walls, they also built a large museum to enshrine items that carry this piece of memory — a reminder of how the nation chose to stand united and fight in the face of an existential crisis. On Tuesday, after nearly eight months of renovation, the museum reopened to the public, free of charge and without the need for an appointment. Among the visitors were veterans — many in their 90s and wheelchair-bound. Some had started out as child sentries or message runners. One had worked as a cook, recalling how he once steamed buns to bring to the troops, only to arrive and find they had all fallen. An Yangdong, a resident of Beijing, attended the exhibition in place of his father, who has passed away. 'The hardship of that war is beyond what we can imagine today,' he said. In the combat during the early stages of the war, according to his father, it was often several of them against a single Japanese soldier. 'They were professionally trained,' his father had said. 'We had barely any military training — one day you might be a student, and the next, you were on the front line.' Chen Qingxiang, a 98-year-old from Cangzhou, north China's Hebei Province, said he fought his first battle on his third day in the army. He and his peers were trying to seize a Japanese military truck. He fired two shots. 'Our weapons were no match for theirs back then,' he said. After the Meiji Restoration in the 19th century, Japan became the first country in Asia to realize industrialization, leading to rapid expansion in its national strength. One photo on display at the museum captures a Japanese military plane brazenly flying over Beijing — a chilling reminder of the disparity in power. A trove of letters exhibited at the site reveals how Chinese people felt during that time. A person documented the atrocities he witnessed following the Japanese occupation of Beijing, pouring his grief over the war and the nation's fate into a letter for future generations. He hid it inside the iconic white pagoda at Miaoying Temple, which was under renovation at the time. In others letters, a member of the Communist Party of China (CPC), writing before her execution, told her child she was dying for their country, a general vowed to fight to the death for the nation, and a young man bid farewell to his mother, heading to the battlefield with no expectation of returning alive. People visit an exhibition themed 'For National Liberation and World Peace' at the Museum of the War of Chinese People's Resistance Against Japanese Aggression in Beijing, capital of China, July 8, 2025. (Xinhua/Ju Huanzong) Gao Hong, former director of the Institute of Japanese Studies at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, noted that Japan once believed China would collapse easily, based on the assumption that the country was fragmented at that time — the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911) had fallen, and warlords were fighting each other. 'But once they pushed in, they realized they had unwittingly become the 'cement' — binding that loose sand into concrete,' said Gao. 'To save their country, people fought against overwhelming odds. Every inch of land was, quite literally, soaked in blood.' When news of Japan's surrender arrived, Chen recalled, joy swept through the villages. Families of those taken to work as forced laborers or miners wept with both joy and sorrow. 'They could not get their loved ones back,' he said, 'but finally, the invaders were driven out.' An's father was wounded during the CPC-led Hundred-Regiment Campaign in 1940, an injury that left him disabled for the rest of his life. 'Those who love war will surely perish, but those who forget how to fight will face danger,' he said. Guan Yuhan, a sophomore at Capital Normal University and a volunteer guide at the museum, said the exhibition presents historical facts to the world — a task that matters all the more at a time when unilateralism, economic coercion and hegemonic thinking are on the rise. 'Just as we're trained to always guide audiences forward,' she said, 'the items on display remind us of the brutality of war — and how hard it could be to win peace. We must stay alert.' In recent years, politicians in some countries have sought to twist history for political gain. Observers have reported a troubling trend: growing attempts to whitewash Nazism, glorify Nazi collaborators, and revive the toxic legacies of racial discrimination, xenophobia and intolerance. Until this day, some right-wing politicians in Japan still refuse to renounce the country's militaristic past, and even question or deny the outcomes of World War II. 'Many of the modern and vibrant cities the world sees in China today, such as Shanghai and Chongqing, were rebuilt from the rubble left by Japanese bombings and shelling,' said He Husheng, a professor of CPC history at Renmin University of China. 'China, now the world's second-largest economy, truly rose from scratch.' Throughout the war from 1931 to 1945, more than 35 million Chinese soldiers and civilians were killed or wounded. China suffered direct economic losses of over 100 billion U.S. dollars and indirect losses exceeding 500 billion, calculated in terms of 1937 levels. 'The country's fortitude and tenacity, however, tied down a large portion of Japanese forces, disrupted Tokyo's strategic plans, and eased pressure on Allied fronts in Europe and across Asia,' said He. 'This proved decisive in the defeat of Japanese fascism.' Today, life in Wanping moves at a slow and peaceful pace. Restaurant owners warmly invite passersby to stop for a drink or a bite. On the Lugou Bridge, children run and laugh, playing among the stone lions that line the centuries-old structure. To mark the anniversary of the 1937 event here, netizens shared homemade videos on social media. In one, the screen was split: one half showed a baby sitting helplessly amid the debris in Shanghai, crying after his parents were killed in a Japanese bombing in 1937; the other half showed children of today resting atop the deck of a naval ship. The video also included additional footage of China's aircraft carriers. 'Eighty-eight years after the July 7th Incident,' a comment read, 'I doubt anyone dares to touch our children now.' – Xinhua China historical site resistance war
Borneo Post
24-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Borneo Post
"Even if AI out-writes me, I'll keep writing" — Chinese novelist Mai Jia wrestles with creative anxiety of AI age
People visit the 31st Beijing International Book Fair at the China National Convention Center in Beijing, capital of China, June 18, 2025. (Xinhua/Zhang Chenlin) BEIJING (June 25): At the 2025 Beijing International Book Fair, a forum probing writers' perceptions of artificial intelligence (AI) saw Chinese author Mai Jia take the stage in a light beige jacket. Sitting alongside three other panelists, the celebrated novelist — best known for his espionage fiction and a recipient of the prestigious Mao Dun Literature Prize — offered an unusually personal and philosophical take on how AI is encroaching on the realm of human creativity. His reflections touch on a deeper unease shared by writers and artists around the world: how to situate human creativity in a time when machines are learning to imitate — and even threatening to outpace — human imagination. 'I've never really used AI,' the novelist said. 'But I've played with it. And I played with the intent of proving it's not worth playing with.' His remarks drew laughter, but it was evident that he was serious about the mindset behind his experiment. 'I approached it with distrust. I hoped to mock it. And to a certain extent, I succeeded in doing that, so I never really used it.' Reports that AI had been used to generate fiction in his style and that Mai Jia himself had somehow contributed to its development were, in his words, 'pure rumor.' 'I never demonstrated anything. I never helped build such a thing,' he said plainly. For the novelist, the rise of AI isn't just a question about the future — it's a reckoning with the past. 'When we talk about AI, we think we're talking about the future. But that's not the wise thing to do,' he said. 'AI has a surging, even violent vitality. It's coming at us like a monster, like a giant we can't stop, and we have no idea where it's going or what it will become.' He suggested that rather than speculating about the future of AI, people should examine its roots and view it as the culmination of a long 'digital revolution.' In his view, this revolution began when numbers first entered human language. Roughly 5,000 years ago, 'when early writing systems emerged, numbers were a part of them. But numbers were never content to remain just a part of writing. They've always wanted to rebel.' The writer traces the first major turning point back to 1837, with the invention of Morse code — 'a great technology created by a great man,' he said — which allowed a message to be transmitted across oceans using only digits. This, for Mai Jia, marked the first true success of the digital revolution. But it came at a cost. 'Digital encoding brought us immense convenience. A message could travel from China to Europe or the United States within a morning. But it also introduced trouble,' he said. 'It brought cryptography. It dissolved language. It turned language into a puzzle, an obstacle.' A person uses DeepSeek app on a mobile phone on Feb. 17, 2025. (Xinhua/Huang Zongzhi) Later came the second wave — computers, developed in the mid-20th century through the foundational work of figures like John von Neumann and Alan Turing. 'Instead of converting writing into ten digits, they reduced it to just two: zero and one,' he said. This, he argued, was a more complete digitization than Morse code ever achieved. The benefits were vast — 'an entire library can now fit in a screen, a single phone' — but so were the downsides. 'When that screen is in your hand, yes, it holds endless text. But it also drains your time, digs into your greed, and pulls you downward,' he said. 'It disintegrates your attention. It exaggerates your desire to sink.' The third wave, the novelist believes, is AI. And it's the most transformative yet. 'For the first time, we are talking not just about reading or attention, but about writing itself. Before, no one imagined that technology could replace the human mind in creating.' He said that today's AI revolution has created something new: a creative anxiety disorder. 'I don't know how this revolution will evolve. But here's what I do know: Even if AI defeats me, even if every word it writes is better than mine, I will still write,' he said. 'Not because I want to compete with it. But because writing is how I survive. If I don't read, if I don't write, I don't know how to live.' He ended with a quiet but firm conviction: 'If AI writes better than me, I'll write. If I write better than it — of course, I'll write.' – Xinhua artificial intelligence China novelist writer
Malaysia Sun
18-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Malaysia Sun
CHINA-BEIJING-INT'L BOOK FAIR-OPENING (CN)
Xinhua 18 Jun 2025, 14:15 GMT+10 (250618) -- BEIJING, June 18, 2025 (Xinhua) -- People visit the 31st Beijing International Book Fair at the China National Convention Center in Beijing, capital of China, June 18, 2025. The 31st Beijing International Book Fair opened here on Wednesday, displaying around 220,000 books from China and abroad. Over 1,700 exhibitors from 80 countries and regions participated in the event, which will run through June 22, with Malaysia as this year's guest country of honor. (Xinhua/Zhang Chenlin)
Borneo Post
15-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Borneo Post
Chinese sci-fi finds a muse in traditional culture
A visitor experiences an XR interactive game during the China Science Fiction Convention 2025 in Beijing, capital of China, March 28, 2025. (Xinhua/Zhang Chenlin) HARBIN (June 16): Traditional Chinese culture is finding a new life not in text books or museums, but in the speculative futures of Chinese science fiction. Writers and creators are mining the past — classical literature, philosophies, and archaeological marvels — and threading it into a genre that is vividly, unmistakably Chinese. Chinese sci-fi writer Wu Yan, also a professor at Southern University of Science and Technology, is among those embracing this trend. Take his short story 'Dad's Sticky Notes,' which claimed gold at the sixth Children's Science Fiction Nebula Awards of China this past May. Wu layers historical imagination with futuristic flair, drawing richly from the vaults of Chinese archaeology, the cryptic wisdom of ancient astronomy, and the enduring elegance of architecture. The story follows elementary school student Zhu Xiaoguo as he uses time-traveling sticky notes, his father's invention, to travel back to 2100 BC. Arriving at the Taosi archaeological site in north China's Shanxi Province, he uncovers the mysteries of an ancient astronomical observatory and becomes captivated by scientific exploration. Wu's story is more than escapism, however; it is an invitation. He said he hopes to show how ancient Chinese wisdom can spark the curiosity and imagination that drive technological innovation. For Wu, traditional Chinese culture is not a relic to be revered from afar. He believes its deep philosophical roots and imaginative literary legacy offer sci-fi creators an almost bottomless reservoir of inspiration. Take 'Journey to the West' for instance, a fantastic universe where deities, demons, and humans coexist in dynamic equilibrium. Wu said this classic Chinese epic illustrates how traditional aesthetic can serve as a distinctive inspiration for Chinese sci-fi, especially in an age when artificial intelligence is encroaching on the creative domain. Wu's viewpoint echoes the ideas of other Chinese sci-fi writers like Liu Cixin, whose widely popular 'The Three-Body Problem' trilogy fuses Chinese historical and philosophical motifs with universal themes of science, survival, and humanity's place in the cosmos. 'The Three-Body Problem' trilogy has helped fuel China's ongoing sci-fi craze, which saw the total revenue of the country's sci-fi industry grow to 108.96 billion yuan (about 15.17 billion U.S. dollars) in 2024. The trilogy has also become a global cultural phenomenon on the back of translations and adaptations into TV series and films, including a Netflix series. 'The Wandering Earth,' another novel by Liu, along with its eponymous blockbuster movie adaptation, is also widely regarded as channeling Chinese philosophical values. Experts note that the story's premise — humanity moving Earth itself to survive, rather than abandoning it — reflects the deep-seated cultural bond between people and homeland. Han Song, president of the World Chinese Science Fiction Association, said Chinese sci-fi works like 'The Three-Body Problem' address issues like artificial intelligence, space exploration, and environment from the perspective of human being as a whole, striking a chord globally. 'They integrate unique thoughts derived from 5,000 years of civilization to reflect current technological revolutions and social transformations through a Chinese lens — offering distinctive answers that the world craves,' he said. – Xinhua Arts and Culture China entertainment literature science fiction
