The Ancient Origins of Chinese New Year

Take a few minutes to discover the 3,000-year history behind the world’s largest annual migration and renewal festival. The true origins of Chinese New Year reach back over three millennia, through dynasties rise and fall, evolving from ancient religious rituals into the global celebration we know today.

A Conversation with Gods and Ancestors

Long before firecrackers and red envelopes, Chinese New Year began as something far more solemn. Göran Aijmer, an anthropologist who has extensively studied late imperial Chinese festivals, says the earliest New Year celebrations were fundamentally about “timely signs” and dominance over nature [1]. Ancient Chinese communities didn’t just mark the passage of time; they performed rituals they believed could influence it.

The Chinese lunar calendar holds deep cultural and historical significance because it aligns human life with the rhythms of nature through its lunisolar structure, which tracks both moon phases and the solar year. For thousands of years the Chinese have used it to track agricultural cycles, helping communities determine planting and harvesting times, and it continues to shape major cultural traditions today by determining the dates of festivals such as Lunar New Year and the Mid‑Autumn Festival. It also evolved the creation of the Chinese zodiac, influencing ideas about personality, fate, and auspicious timing for important life events. The Chinese calendar reflects a philosophical worldview centered on harmony and balance, making it not just a system for marking time but a cultural framework that still resonates throughout Chinese society.

The festival’s deepest roots lie in the Shang Dynasty (1600–1046 BCE), when people held ceremonies to honor gods and ancestors at the turn of the year. These weren’t just festive parties; they were negotiations with the spiritual world. Farmers pleaded for good harvests. Mothers pleaded for the health and wealth of their children. Communities sought protection from evil spirits. The entire celebration was, essentially, a conversation between the living and the divine. These were sacred rituals.

Ritualism is a major cornerstone of Chinese cultured rooted in the deep philosophy of Confucianism. Confucianism explains one of the festival’s most enduring traditions, family reverence. Filial piety is one of the foundations of Confucianism. When modern families gather to honor their ancestors with food offerings and incense, they’re participating in a ritual that’s remained consistent for over 3,000 years.

The Monster Named Nian

There is a legend of a mystical beast call Nian 年 (which means “year”). This terrifying monster would emerge from the mountains to devour villagers. The villagers would hide in fear watching helplessly as their loved ones were devoured and their crops ruined. However, the villagers discovered Nian feared the color red, loud noises, and bright lights. It is suggested that this was when the villagers created red decorations and firecrackers. Xiaofeng Liu’s research on the New Year Festival Cluster discusses myths like the Nian story, served a deeper purpose. These stories helped structure and explained the festival’s internal logic [2]. The monster represented the chaos of the old year. The rituals to defeat it represented humanity’s power to create order and renewal. The Nian myth isn’t just a children’s story in China, it is a foundational cultural beginning. This cultural framework helped generations understand why they did what they did during this liminal, dangerous time between years.

The Qin and Han Dynasty Transformation

The festival we recognize today, began taking shape during the Qin (221–206 BCE) and Han (206 BCE–220 CE) dynasties. Two crucial developments occurred during this time. First, Emperor Wu of Han established a standardized calendar in 104 BCE that fixed New Year’s date. Second, the celebration began shifting from purely religious observance toward community celebration. Cuihua Li’s comprehensive study of Spring Festival development explains how this period saw the emergence of practices like family feasting and visiting neighbors [3]. The walls between the sacred and the social began to blur, and ritual became more utilized in households as feasts and festivals. It was a transition in culture towards building family traditions that would last for generations. These eras saw the exchange from “you still needed to honor the gods” but can also follow ritual and enjoy yourself while doing it.

Chinese Medieval Celebrations

Chinese New Year during the Tang (618–907) and Song (960–1279) dynasties, evolved into more celebration, mass migrations, family ritual, with more emphasis on friend and family reunion. Today Chinese New Year is the largest mass migration of people around the world. Xiao Rao notes, a “medieval flowering” of New Year culture [4].

The Tang dynasty, considered China’s golden age of culture, transformed Chinese New Year into a spectacular public event. Cities across the empire erupted with new performances, dances, Opera, music, literature, and art. Markets overflowed with specialty foods like candied hawthorn, dumplings, that to this day are staples of New year celebrations. Poetry circulated celebrating the turning of the calendar. Yuqi Wang and Mumtaz Mokhtar’s research on festival visual art reveals something fascinating this period established the visual language of celebration we still use today [5]. Door gods, couplets, painted on red paper. Auspicious symbols like fish representing surplus and bats representing fortune. These decorations became a sophisticated visual code that communicated cultural and spiritual blessings and protection.

Late Imperial Elaboration Rules and Rituals

By the Ming (1368–1644) and Qing (1644–1912) dynasties, New Year had become extraordinarily elaborate. Aijmer’s explains how into late imperial celebrations shows just how complex things had become [6]. Every action had its proper time and place. The 23rd day of the 12th month, send the Kitchen God to report to heaven. New Year’s Eve, the family reunion dinner. The first day of the new year, honor elders. The second day, visit in-laws. The fifteenth day, the Lantern Festival conclusion. This structured approach wasn’t rigid tradition for its own sake. These structured rituals provided a shared rhythm that unified communities across China. Whether you celebrated in Beijing or Guangzhou, you followed the same basic sequence. Spring festival is a cultural grammar that announced, “We belong to the same people.”

Why Origins Matter Today

Understanding these origins can transform how we see modern Chinese New Year. When you watch the CCTV New Year’s Gala, you’re witnessing the descendant of Tang dynasty performances. When you give red envelopes, you’re continuing a tradition of blessing and protection that predates written history. When you travel across continents to be with family, you’re participating in the same core value, family reverence that motivated Shang dynasty ancestor worship.

Xiaofeng Liu’s research argues that the New Year festival cluster has maintained its internal structure while constantly evolving its surface elements.[7] The deep patterns endure even as the details change. We no longer sacrifice oxen to agricultural gods, but we still express hope for prosperity. We don’t consult oracles about the coming year, but we still read zodiac predictions with curiosity. We still offer gifts to deities in return for protection and blessings.

A Living Tradition

Perhaps the most remarkable thing about Chinese New Year isn’t its age, but its vitality. A 3,000-year-old tradition hasn’t become fossilized. It continues to evolve, absorb new elements, and speak to each generation. This year, as millions travel home and families gather around dinner tables, they’ll be doing something profoundly ancient and utterly contemporary. They’ll be continuing a conversation that has lasted three millennia, between generations, between the human and the divine, between the old year and the new.

And that, perhaps, is the most beautiful tradition of all.

Spring Festival 15 Days of Celebration

Day 1: Chinese New Year’s Day

• Families gather for reunion dinners and to honor ancestors. Fireworks are common to ward off evil spirits.

Day 2: Married Daughters’ Day

• Daughters visit their parents, and families exchange gifts. It’s also a day for businesses to reopen.

Day 3: Day of the Rat

• Traditionally considered an inauspicious day, many avoid visiting others. Some people stay home to avoid bad luck.

Day 4: Day of the Kitchen God

• Families prepare offerings to the Kitchen God, who reports on household behavior to the Jade Emperor.

Day 5: Festival of the Lanterns

• Celebrated with lion dances and fireworks. Dumplings are eaten to symbolize wealth.

Day 6: Day of the Cattle

• A day for visiting friends and relatives, often involving feasting.

Day 7: Day of Humans

• Celebrated as the day humans were created. People eat noodles for longevity.

Day 8: Day of the Family

• Families gather for meals, and some may visit temples.

Day 9: Day of the Jade Emperor

• Celebrated with offerings to the Jade Emperor, the ruler of heaven.

Day 10: Day of the Earth God

• Families honor the Earth God with offerings and prayers.

Day 11: Day of the Ancestors

• A day for honoring ancestors with offerings and prayers.

Day 12: Day of the Mice

• Traditionally a day for cleaning and preparing for the Lantern Festival.

Day 13: Day of the Lantern Festival

• The festival concludes with lantern displays, dragon dances, and eating tangyuan (sweet rice balls).

Day 14: Lantern Festival Eve

• Preparations for the Lantern Festival, with families enjoying festive meals.

Day 15: Lantern Festival

• The final day of the Spring Festival, marked by lantern displays, riddles, and family gatherings. It symbolizes reunion and harmony.

Bibliography

Aijmer, Göran. Timely signs, dominance, and vernal celebrations in late imperial Southern China: An exercise in anthropology in the past tense. Civilizations, vol. 72, 2023, pp. 237-250.

Aijmer, Göran. New year celebrations in central China in late imperial times. Chinese University Press, 2003.

Li, Cuihua. 先秦至唐宋时期春节习俗研究 [Study on Spring Festival from Pre-qin to Song Dynasty]. 2010.中山大学 [Sun Yat-sen University], MA thesis.

Liu, Xiaofeng. 春节研究——新年节日群的内在结构与演变 [Research on the Spring Festival——The Internal Structure and Evolution of the New Year Festival Cluster]. 清华大学学报（哲学社会科学版） [Journal of Tsinghua University(Philosophy and Social Sciences)], vol. 39, no. 2, 2024, pp. 1-18.

Rao, Xiao. Lunar New Year in medieval China. UCI School of Humanities, 16 Jan. 2025, www.humanities.uci.edu/news/lunar-new-year-medieval-china.

Wang, Yuqi, and Mumtaz Mokhtar. Festival and visual art in ancient China: a historical review. Ideology Journal, vol. 9, no. 1, 2024, pp. 188-198. UiTM Institutional Repository. DOI:10.24191/idealogy.v9i1.507

[1] Göran Aijmer. Timely signs, dominance, and vernal celebrations in late imperial Southern China: An exercise in anthropology in the past tense. Civilizations, vol. 72, 2023, pp. 237-250.

[2] Xiaofeng Liu. 春节研究——新年节日群的内在结构与演变 [Research on the Spring Festival—The Internal Structure and Evolution of the New Year Festival Cluster]. 清华大学学报（哲学社会科学版）, vol. 39, no. 2, 2024, pp. 1-18.

[3] Cuihua Li. 先秦至唐宋时期春节习俗研究 [Study on Spring Festival from Pre-qin to Song Dynasty]. 2010. Sun Yat-sen University, MA thesis.

[4] Xiao Rao. Lunar New Year in medieval China. UCI School of Humanities, 16 Jan. 2025

[5] Wang, Yuqi, and Mumtaz Mokhtar. Festival and visual art in ancient China: a historical review. Ideology Journal, vol. 9, no. 1, 2024, pp. 188-198.

[6] Göran Aijmer. New year celebrations in central China in late imperial times. Chinese University Press, 2003.

[7] Xiaofeng Liu. 春节研究——新年节日群的内在结构与演变 [Research on the Spring Festival—The Internal Structure and Evolution of the New Year Festival Cluster]. 清华大学学报（哲学社会科学版）, vol. 39, no. 2, 2024, pp. 1-18.

Welcome to the Year of the Fire Horse!

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The Dragon Empress: Wu Zetian, China’s Sole Female Emperor

The Dragon Empress: Wu Zetian

China’s Empress Wu Zetian (武則天) is remembered in Chinese history as a controversial woman of questionable ethics and morals. The only female Empress to sit on the Dragon throne, in the archives of Chinese history; few figures are as transformative or as controversial. She soared from a barely noticed junior concubine in the Tang dynasty’s harem, to become the supreme sovereign of the Tang Dynasty, she shattered the ultimate Confucian taboo to rule as Huangdi, Emperor, in her own powerful right. Her reign 690–705 CE was a period of significant political, cultural, and religious transformation that continues to provoke fascination and debate.

While often depicted in later histories as a monstrous usurper, an image heavily influenced by the male scholars who wrote them. However, modern scholarship creates a more nuanced historical vision. Wu Zetian was not only a ruthless schemer; she was a masterful politician, a patron of Buddhism, and an administrative reformer whose legacy is inextricably tied to the zenith of Tang power and culture.[1]

Wu Zetian’s path to power was unprecedented, and never again accomplished in China. She entered the palace of Emperor Taizhong approximately at age 14 as a low-ranking concubine, cairen.[2] After his death, in a bold and risky move that defied convention, she became a concubine of his son, the new Emperor Gaozong. Her intelligence and political acumen quickly made her indispensable. She outmaneuvered Empress Wang to take the position of Empress herself in 655, a move that involved a dramatic and much contested accusation against her rival.[3]

As Empress, Wu was far from a passive consort. Wu’s ascent was a decades long exercise in strategic brilliance. When Gaozong suffered debilitating illness, Wu stepped into the vacuum of power, first as co-regent and then as the power behind the throne. She became the de facto ruler, handling state affairs from “behind the curtain.” After his death in 683, she ruled as empress dowager through her sons before ultimately deposing them. In 690, she founded her own dynasty, the Zhou, and formally ascended the throne as Emperor Shengshen.[4]

Female Brilliant Substantive Governance

Her political methods were pragmatic and often brutal, utilizing a network of informers to suppress aristocratic opposition.[5] This atmosphere of surveillance, while effective for control, contributed to her historical reputation for ruthlessness. However, to label her rule simply as “tyranny” overlooks her brilliance in substantive governance. She effectively weakened the old, militarized aristocracy by promoting the imperial examination system, recruiting officials based on merit and loyalty to the throne rather than noble birth. This move centralized authority and stabilized the bureaucracy, a policy that outlasted her dynasty.[6] Wu promoted women to governance, encouraged female education, and offered anyone with talent the ability to serve. She commissioned agricultural manuals, lowered taxes at times, and raised the status of farmers in official rituals, demonstrating a concern for economic stability and popular welfare.[7] She also expanded the empire’s military reach and implemented policies that strengthened central authority.

The Battle for Legitimacy: Propaganda, Religion, and Symbolism

Wu’s greatest challenge was not administrative but ideological. The Confucian framework that structured China explicitly prohibited women from holding sovereign power, famously stating that “a hen crowing in the morning heralds the downfall of a family.” [8] She brilliantly overcame this by orchestrating a multi-front campaign of legitimization. Wu utilized Buddhism as a powerful ideological tool. Her supporters commissioned commentaries on a Mahayana scripture, the Great Cloud Sutra, which prophesied that a female deity would be reborn as a ruler to govern a great kingdom. Wu Zetian was presented as the fulfillment of this divine prophecy.[9] She sponsored the construction of monumental Buddhist art, most famously the colossal statues at the Longmen Grottoes, visually linking her reign to divine favor and universal kingship. As Judith Boltz details, Wu Zetian strategically constructed a “pantheon of devis, divinities, and dynastic mothers.”[10] She elevated female deities and historical figures, reshaping religious and historical narratives to create a symbolic space for female authority within Chinese tradition. She even invented new Chinese characters, including her chosen name, Zhao (曌), which combined the symbols for “sun” and “moon” above “void;” a character meant to signify her illuminating rule overall.[11]

The Historical Dragon Matriarch: Assessment and Legacy

For centuries, Confucian historians have condemned Wu Zetian as a usurper, a murderous schemer, and a sexually immoral villainess. This traditional view, as Dien discusses, often framed her story as a cautionary tale about the dangers of female power in a patriarchal system.[12]

Modern scholars offer a more nuanced historical view. While not ignoring the political violence of her court, historians recognize her as an exceptionally shrewd politician and an effective ruler who presided over a prosperous and culturally vibrant period. She ensured a smooth continuation of the Tang’s “cosmopolitan” character, as described by Mark Edward Lewis.[13] Her patronage of Buddhism left an indelible mark on Chinese art and religion.

Wu Zetian’s ultimate legacy is a paradox. She proved that a woman could not only seize but also successfully wield the highest authority in a vast empire, demonstrating administrative expertise that sustained a golden age. Yet, her very success reinforced the traditional anxiety over female power. Wu Zetian’s legacy is her undeniable success. For fifteen years, she ruled one of the world’s greatest empires with authority and vision. She created a blueprint for female power in a system designed to exclude it, using every tool available; political, religious, and symbolic, to claim her place as the Dragon Emperor. She remains a towering, controversial, and utterly unique figure in world history.

Bibliography

Boltz, Judith. “Emperor Wu Zhao and Her Pantheon of Devis, Divinities, and Dynastic Mothers.” Journal of Chinese Religions 45, no. 2 (2017): 95–116.

Dien, Dora Shu-Fang. Empress Wu Zetian in Fiction and in History: Female Defiance in Confucian China. New York: iUniverse, 2003.

The First and Only Woman Emperor of China. Google Arts & Culture. Accessed April 16, 2024. https://artsandculture.google.com/.

Guisso, Richard. Wu Tse-T’ien and the Politics of Legitimation in T’ang China. Bellingham: Western Washington University, 1978.

Lewis, Mark Edward. China’s Cosmopolitan Empire: The Tang Dynasty. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2009.

Wu Zetian. Academy of Chinese Studies - The Splendid Chinese Culture. Accessed April 16, 2024. https://www.academyofchinesestudies.us/.

[1] Richard Guisso, Wu Tse-T’ien and the Politics of Legitimation in T’ang China. Bellingham: Western Washington University, 1978, pp. 1-5

[2] Dora Shu-Fang Dien, Empress Wu Zetian in Fiction and in History: Female Defiance in Confucian China New York: iUniverse, 2003, pp 45-50.

[3] The First and Only Woman Emperor of China, Google Arts & Culture. 2024. https://artsandculture.google.com

[4] Guisso, Politics of Legitimation, 89-94.

[5] Wu Zhao: Ruler of Tang Dynasty China. 2024, https://www.asianstudies.org.

[6] The First and Only Woman Emperor of China, Google Arts & Culture, 2024, https://artsandculture.google.com/.

[7] Wu Zetian. Academy of Chinese Studies - The Splendid Chinese Culture. 2024 https://www.academyofchinesestudies.us.

[8] Dien, Empress Wu Zetian, 3.

[9] Judith Boltz. Emperor Wu Zhao and Her Pantheon of Devis, Divinities, and Dynastic Mothers, Journal of Chinese Religions 45, no. 2. 2017. Pp 102-105.

[10] Boltz, Emperor Wu Zhao, p 95.

[11] The First and Only Woman Emperor of China, Google Arts & Culture. 2024. https://artsandculture.google.com

[12] Dien, Empress Wu Zetian, xii-xv.

[13] Mark Edward Lewis, China’s Cosmopolitan Empire: The Tang Dynasty. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2009, 35-38.

Once Upon a Time in China: Hong Kong’s Cultural Object

Once Upon a Time in China is a fictional historical film that follows the story of legendary folk hero Wong Fei-Hung (Jet Li). The film’s themes explore China’s tumultuous and unequal confrontation with the Western world. Once Upon a Time in China visualizes themes of modernization verses tradition, cultural identity, and the struggle against foreign imperialism. Amid the incredible fight scenes, is a thoughtful and melancholic look at a nation at a crossroads between losing tradition and accepting Western modernization. Once Upon a Time in China, is more than just a martial arts film; it is the beginning of a new era in Chinese film that resisted the Western narrative of Chinese national identity. A brilliantly active tale with contrasting scenes, comic relief, and traditional Chinese cultural elements told the story of Chinese folk hero Wong Fei-hung. The film skyrocketed to international celebrity and with it, a new visual example of a proud, strong, united China. Utilizing Wendy Griswold’s Cultural Diamond to Tsui Hark’s Once Upon a Time in China shows that the film is not only a reflection of, but an active participant in, the late 20th-century crisis of Chinese identity. This paper will examine how tradition and modern social attitude changes interacted with challenging Chinese national identity, recognizing Hong Kong’s handover worries, Tsui Hark’s creative approach, the Wong Fei-Hung story, utilizing traditional Chinese cultural elements; and its reception among local and global audiences. This paper analysis suggests that Once Upon a Time in China functions as a reflective cultural object with powerful use of the Wong Fei-Hung’s myth, use of traditional Chinese cultural elements interwoven into a narrative that navigates a Chinese National identity crisis after the decline of the Qing Dynasty and the contemporary uncertainty of Hong Kong’s handover.

Chinese film maker Tsui Hark was born February 15, 1951, in Saigon, Vietnam. His family, having migrated to Vietnam and then Hong Kong, had a total of sixteen children. (“Film Comment”) Tsui Hark was educated in Hong Kong, studied film in Texas, and lived in New York until his return to Hong Kong in 1977. He is regarded as being one of the most influential Chinese directors. ”He burst onto the scene as part of the Eighties New Wave, and has since made 54 features, 31 as director, and produced blockbusters in every genre known to man.” (“Film Comment”) His mastery in creating Once Upon a Time in China, was due to his excellent talent, his love of Chinese culture and his determination to show the Chinese people as more than a historical failure from a Western perspective. He spent much of his youth migrating from place to place due to political unrest and social insecurities. His idea of incorporating interesting Chinese culture is evident in many of his films, not just Once Upon a Time in China. He felt a kinship to Hong Kong and during his next migration to the United States he reflected on why migration is not the best and how he wanted his movies to help the public think about leaving their homelands. “We saw a lot of people migrating to other places because of the return of Hong Kong to China. So I made that movie because I felt like, once again, we were repeating the same pattern. I was raised in Vietnam because my parents migrated from China. And then I migrated to Hong Kong, and then I had to migrate from Hong Kong to somewhere. We are caught in something like a migrating curse, moving from one place to another. This is something real. For me, it is very ironic.” (“Film Comment”) After being introduced to the story of legendary folk hero Wong Fei-hung a Chinese martial artist, and physician, who practiced in 19th century Guangzhou, he wanted to make his story come to life and bring the pride of Chinese culture into the public view. He later states in an interview why he chose to make the films he did by saying, “I think a filmmaker is only trying to make something about themselves, their feelings toward the world, toward their life, the values they have, something they get from living in their time.” (“Film Comment”) Once Upon a Time in China is not only a nod towards Tsui’s Chinese nationalism but also a powerful statement of his passionate ideals that the upheavals of Chinese history, should be talked about, visualized, and shown from another lens not one of Western power and influence.

During the time that Tsui Hark was creating Once Upon a Time in China, Hong Kong was in a politically vulnerable state as Brittian was preparing to return Hong Kong in 1997. Hong Kong society was living in an uncertain and anxious time. The political climate was tenuous as Hong Kong citizens faced a crisis of political and national identity. The British having infused Hong Kong culture into a hybrid mix, the citizens were torn between a Western and an Eastern identity. Tsui himself remarks on the political time from 1984 onward by saying in an interview, “We saw a lot of people migrating to other places because of the return of Hong Kong to China. So I made that movie because I felt like, once again, we were repeating the same pattern.” (“Film Comment”) Hong Kong was littered with propaganda, uncertainty, and distrust. Western culture and influence was fully encompassed into the area. Chinese nationalism in Hong Kong was minimal. What would become of Hong Kong if it were returned to China, would the citizens of Hong Kong be Chinese citizens again? What would these new political systems look like and what would happen if they did not follow communist rule? However, as many saw it, Hong Kong was full of Chinese people and not British people, and the Chinese people of Hong Kong had in part forgotten their identity. Film makers like Tsui wanted to change that. As political rhetoric made the situation volatile, the economy suffered, families migrated in fear and Hong Kong was a powder keg of uncertainty. Western interference in Chinese affairs and causing separation of Hong Kong had caused cultural uncertainty, economic and political instability, and lack of national and cultural pride in Chinese citizens. Films like Once Upon a Time in China were not only a reckoning but a reconnecting of the people to their culture and nationalism.

Once Upon a Time in China was one of Tsui Hark’s most famous works. His series became a beloved classic not only in China but also around the world. He utilized his talent and experimentation with film to bring to life a Chinese hero. He used a mixture of martial arts, traditional Chinese culture, themes of resistance to modernization and western influence on remark on how the Chinese people could be proud of their history, culture, and people. The fact that this hero had lived and did amazing things in his life to help his community with his medical knowledge, wisdom and martial arts was a story worth telling repeatedly. Audiences around the world were captivated by Jett Li who rose to stardom after the film series. The open and honest expression of national pride and skill was a theme that was readily accepted by Chinese audiences. However, Hong Kong society was not assuming a national identity with China as a whole and this added to the dichotomy of instability. “Anderson’s formulation accentuates the importance of community to any collective agency, but Tsui’s films threaten to upset monolithic conceptions of the nation even as Hong Kong cinema destabilizes assumptions about the possibility of a national cinema. (Ingram)

“The Once Upon a Time in China series reflects upon an idealized version of Chinese history that reflects and similarly constructs the hopes and fears of local audiences toward the future. As a representation of an idealized community, the films functioned as a rhetorical intervention into the contemporary cultural scene, a scene rife with anxiety in 1992, that accentuated themes in the collective imagination of China’s past.” (Ingram, 53) Chinese audiences, however, were proud their voices could be heard beyond the Western colonized lens. A voice that depicted strength, moral character, heroism, skill, and excellence. The film originally rendered in Cantonese and Mandarin, was later translated to English, French, and Spanish by the box set released by Columbia Tri-Star/Sony in 2001. To date audiences can still enjoy special showings around the world and buy collector items and box sets.

The film takes place in the port city of Foshan, Guangdong province, a major gateway for foreign trade and influence. Wong Fei-Hung is a respected martial arts master, a skilled physician of traditional Chinese medicine at his Po Chi Lam clinic and the leader of the local militia. “Once Upon a Time in China” is set in the early 19^th century during the Qing dynasty. It starts on board the ship of the Black Flag Army during a lion dance. A neighboring boat with French sailors hear the firecrackers of the traditional lion dance and think that the Black Flag Army is firing on them, they fire back and injure some of the dancers. Wong takes over the dance and finishes the performance. The commander of the Black Flag Army Liu Yongfu gives Wong a fan that has all the unequal treaties between China and other countries written on it. He tells him to hold the country safe while he is gone fighting in Vietnam. This is the first portion of the film that represents the difficult relations between China and the Western countries in port. Not only the French, but English, and American ships are present.

The film follows Wong through the return of 13^th Aunt and the entrance of Leung Foon with an opera troupe. Foon develops a crush on 13^th Aunt who loves Wong. Foon becomes entangled with the Shaho Gang, who are accessories to money extortion, kidnapping Chinese women for prostitution in America, and violence to the community. A new martial artist Iron Fist Yim wants to start a school in Foshan but must prove himself and challenges Wong. Yim is a traditionalist who makes many poor choices including taking money from the gang to open a school. Foon ends up following Yim. A fight breaks out while Wong is meeting the Governor at a local restaurant. This fight between the Gang and Wong’s local militia starts a cascade of events. The Governor blames Wong and disbands the militia. Wong fights the gang leader and defeats him. He tries to do the right thing and bring justice to the people of the city but the local authorities refuse to help him.

Afterwards during an opera performance, the gang with help from Jackson the American Captain, try to assassinate Wong and the governor. Many are wounded and the governor blames Wong imprisoning him after a raid on his clinic while he is helping the injured. Wong escapes death only to face more persecution. A prisoner from America has escaped and tells Wong the truth of the horrors of Chinese workers going to America. Meanwhile 13^th Aunt is kidnapped by the gang. Foon tries to rescue her but is unable to. The prison guards having deep respect for Wong release him and he goes to save 13^th Aunt. Many fights scenes ensue between Wong, Yim, Jackson, and the supporting characters. Wong eventually defeats Yim and Jackson and the leader of the gang is also killed. The kidnapped women escape, and the film ends with a comical adaptation of Wong with his disciples and 13^th Aunt trying to take a picture dressed in Western clothing.

The characters in “Once Upon a Time in China” follow traditional roles of the Beijing opera. This is an important inuendo to note as the film hides traditional meanings into every aspect of it is theme. Wong Fei-Hung (Jet Li) is the moral center, Wu Sheng (Martial Male), mixing acrobatic combat with the dignified grace of a Wen Xiaosheng (Refined Male). (“Beijing Opera.”) He is wise, compassionate, and patriotic, but also conflicted. He represents the best of Chinese tradition struggling to find its place in the new modern world. 13^th Aunt Yee (Rosamund Kwan), Qing Yi (Virtuous Woman), her arias expressing modern ideals is the bridge between East and West, having returned from abroad and adopted Western clothing and photography. (“Beijing Opera.”) Her more modern outlook and unspoken love for Wong Fei-Hung challenge his worldview and add personal romantic drama. Leung Foon (Yuen Biao) is a Chou (Comedic Acrobat), is the youthful energy and comic relief. (“Beijing Opera.”) His journey from a reckless young man and fighter to a disciplined disciple shows a smaller-scale adaptation. Iron Shirt Yim (Yen Shi-Kwan) Jing (Painted Face) villain is the representation of blind traditionalism and xenophobia. His downfall is social commentary on the futility of resisting change with brute force. Luke (Jonathan Isgar) Fan Mian (Foreign Face), archetype to symbolize the corrupting Western influence. (“Beijing Opera.”) As the main antagonist he embodies the cruel, exploitative, and racist side of Western imperialism.

Once Upon a Time in China as analyzed by Wendy Griswold’s cultural diamond, is a cultural item. A cultural item is defined as any cultural item that that holds cultural meaning. (Griswald) As Hong Kong moved into the new era post British rule, the cohesive message of Chinese cultural identity had been lost. Film makers like Tsui Hark tried to change that loss of identity by visually helping promote a strong Chinese identity through film.

Once Upon a Time in China uses visual references to accentuate it is theme around strength, virility, and honor of the Chinese people. Tsui Hark utilizes different techniques like lighting angles, contrasts of shadow and visual representations to portray a traditional China moving towards a Western influenced one, at the same time, Tsui Hark uses aggressive motion to film the martial arts scenes. Each frame is a representation of majesty and virility of Chinese Men, especially martial artists.

The opening scene in Once Upon a Time in China is one of many strong visual and audio rewrites of Chinese national identity. The film shows a group of athletic, strong men, training with discipline and harmony. This accentuates the virtues of traditional Chinese values, discipline, strength, and honor. These attributes are strongly contradicted by the world view created through Orientalism that Chinese are weak, ineffectual, and divided. Compared to the Western centered narrative utilized in Orientalism propaganda, this scene is a show of strength and a rewriting of a negative narrative.

Once Upon a Time in China directed by Tsui Hark, functions as a cultural object. The film offers a visualization of a new Chinese identity, free from Western influence, at a critical historical juncture. The film’s main protagonist is the iconic folk hero Wong Fei-hung (Jet Li) who serves as a representative vessel to explore the trauma, anxiety, and loss of identity due to China’s forced encounter with Western imperialism. As Jason Ingram discusses in Once upon a time in Hong Kong: The construction of community as collective agency, the series constructs a vision of community and collective agency amidst this upheaval, presenting Wong not merely as a martial artist but as the moral and cultural anchor for a society in crisis.” (Ingram) The film narrative portrays Wong as a defender of both the physical and symbolic integrity of Chinese culture. Revolving solely around his ability to protect the people, traditions, and values of China against foreign encroachment. “The protagonist of the series, Wong Feihung, struggles to balance Confucian traditions, national authority, and Western technological advances. Wong personifies important communal values and studying the film as a political allegory reveals how Tsui Hark disrupts nationalism in the process of reconstructing a sense of community that can serve both Hong Kong and China.” (Ingram) This not only makes a strong national identity narrative but also makes the film a cinematic forum for processing the national humiliation and resilience of Western Imperialism. This is the basis of a cultural item, forged in film, to reidentify the Chinese national identity.

Figure 5 Once Upon a time in China original film.

In Tom Vick’s Asian Cinema: Felid Guide, Vick discusses Chinese cinema as an act of rebellion while still holding true to traditional concepts and culture. (Vick) He focuses one portion of his article specifically on Hong Kong and its use of film as a call to National traditionalism rather than national identity. Hong Kong, at the time Once Upon a Time in China was made, utilized popular genres as tools for cultural reinterpretation instead of a state-centered nationalism. Once Upon a Time in China visualizes this in entertainment form by reimagining the folk hero Wong Fei-hung as a moral and cultural anchor amid late Qing imperial decline and Western encroachment. the film reflects Hong Kong’s colonial Vick’s analysis suggests that Hong Kong had an uncertain relationship to both Western modernity and mainland Chinese authority. By using themes of ethical restraint, cultural continuity, and local agency over political allegiance, Once Upon a Time in China acts as a Cultural item for Hong Kong. The film preserves Chinese tradition that Hong Kong citizens want to keep resisting external domination and ideological appropriation from mainland China. It preserves both sides, traditional values of a remembered shared culture and a fusion of Western ideas. The final scene of the movie articulates this beautifully as you see all the characters dressed in Western clothing in front of the traditional Chinese clinic.

Sociologist, Wendy Griswold, define her concept of “cultural diamond” as the dynamic relationship between a cultural object, its creators, its receivers, and the broader social world. (Griswold) Utilizing her framework to Once Upon a Time in China (1991), it can be argued that the film can classify as a cultural object for Hong Kong. Tsui Hark, himself was a diasporic Chinese director working within the constraints of Hong Kong film industry, going through his own personal revitalization of his cultural identity, used his ability to make fil to create a visual representation of the dissonance he had personally lived. He crafted his film to be a historical narrative that engaged the social world of late 1980s Hong Kong; a society, much like himself, absorbed by anxiety over its return to Chinese sovereignty. The cultural object itself, a Wuxia film centered on a Chinese folk hero, became the “vessel” for this collective unease. The movie depicted a China overwhelmed by foreign imperialism and internal collapse. This resonated with the Hong Kong “receiver,” whose local identity was rooted in both Chinese tradition and a fusion of colonialism experience. The cultural diamond connections can argue that the film is not just propaganda entertainment, but as a mediated space where Hong Kong’s creators and audience could process their historical similarities, precarious future with cultural moments of nostalgia in the movies’ themes.

Whether you are a sociologist or not, Once Upon a Time in China is a great film. It has all the action scenes that make it epic, cinematic brilliance and relevant themes that make it a must watch at least once in your life. It is not 2025 and Hong Kong is a part of Mainland China and is also a little province of its own. You can see the remnants of British imperialism in the architecture, the double stacked buses, the food, banking, and governing system. However, Hong Kong is a part of China, and its people are a part of the national identity of China.

Bibliography:

“Beijing Opera.” Beijing Opera, www.mybeijingchina.com/travelguide/peking-opera.

Bingham, Adam. “Once Upon a Time in China: The Complete Films.” Cinéaste (New York, N.Y.), vol. 47, no. 3, 2022, pp. 44-57. Accessed August 27, 2025

Burley, Robyn. “Sergei Eisenstein and Montage: When Cultures Collide in Once Upon a Time in China II.” Film Matters, vol. 3, no. 4, 2012, pp. 3–10, https://doi.org/10.1386/fm.3.4.3_1. Accessed August 27, 2025 (Google Scholar)

Film Comment. “Online Exclusive: An Annotated* Tsui Hark Interview.” Film Comment. Last modified July 15, 2015. https://www.filmcomment.com/article/tsui-hark-interview/.

Griswold, Wendy. Cultures and Societies in a Changing World (Sociology for a New Century Series) (p. 14-16.) SAGE Publications.

Ingrain, Jason. “Once upon a time in Hong Kong: The construction of community as collective

agency.” Southern Journal of Communication 69.1 (2003): 51-62 Accessed August 27, 2025

Liu, Zixu. “Once upon a time in China: Nationalism, modernity, and cinematic

representation.” Frontiers of Literary Studies in China 8.4 (2014): 532-554. Accessed August 27, 2025

Mermelstein, David. “’Once Upon a Time in China’ Once Again; Criterion Gathers the Five-Film Martial-Arts Series into a Collection of Hi-Def Restorations.” The Wall Street Journal. Eastern Edition, Dow Jones & Company Inc, 2021.

Vick, Tom. “Chinese Cinema Tradition and Resistance.” Asian Cinema: A Field Guide. 1st ed., HarperCollins/Collins, 2007.

Weng, Po-Wei. “Masculinized China vs. the Feminized West: Musical Intertextuality and Cultural Representations in Once Upon a Time in China I and II.” Yearbook for Traditional Music 46 (2014): 140-158. Accessed August 27, 2025

Williams, Tony. “Under ‘Western Eyes’: The Personal Odyssey of Huang Fei-Hong in ‘Once upon a Time in China.’” Cinema Journal, vol. 40, no. 1, 2000, pp. 3–24, https://doi.org/10.1353/cj.2000.0023. Accessed August 27, 2025

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Part 3

Emperor Xuanzong’s Cypress Tree

The cypress tree at the Xuanyuan Temple, also known as the Yellow Emperor’s tomb, is a significant historical and cultural landmark. It is believed to be the oldest surviving cypress tree in China and, as confirmed by British forestry expert Roper in 1982, it is the largest and oldest cypress tree in the world. The tree is approximately nineteen meters tall with a thickest part measuring 11.6 meters in perimeter. It has been put under protection and is under radar tests to ensure its extensive root and branch systems. The tree was artificially planted, like other ancient arborvitaes in the temple, and its root and branches were found to be more extensive in radar tests conducted in 2017 and 2023. Trees with identical genes to the ancient tree have been developed with the cloning technology applied.[1]

The story of Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang Dynasty and his beloved consort Yang Guifei is one of the most enduring and tragic love tales in Chinese history; a romance that has captivated poets, playwrights, and artists for centuries. Their love saga is often remembered for its tragic end, and the ruin of an empire. Yang Guifei’s death, a forced execution during a military revolt, ended their romance. However, a quieter, more poignant symbol of their bond exists in the imperial gardens of the old capital, Chang’an. There, according to historians, Xuanzong planted a cypress tree in memory of his lost love. This single, living monument encapsulates the profound personal grief of an emperor and the larger political and cultural currents of his reign, a period marked both the dazzling zenith and the devastating decline of the Tang Dynasty.

Emperor Xuanzong’s long reign, 712-756, began as a golden age. His younger years are remembered for its administrative competence and flourishing arts. His later years were characterized by an intense devotion to Yang Guifei that, in the eyes of many court officials and historians, led him to neglect his imperial duties.[2] The An Lushan Rebellion forced the court to flee, war and violence broke out, the people suffered loss of homes, lives, and stability. To secure support to retake his country, Xuanzong was forced to have his beloved executed. The soldiers and courtiers would not agree to suppressing the rebellion unless Yang Guifei was executed. They hoped it would bring stability back to the court.

However, this was not the case, Emperor Xuanzong never recovered from the loss of his beloved consort. He did not govern long after the rebellion, his son instead ascended to the throne. His grief was his final undoing, after fleeing to Sichan during the An Lushan rebellion, he relinquished the throne to his son Li Heng in 756. The army declared Li Heng Emperor Suzong in Lingwu. He spent his entire reign trying to quell the rebellion. In 763, his son Emperor Daizong finally ended the rebellion, but the Tang dynasty never recovered. Xuanzong died in 763, thirteen days before his song Li Heng.

The cypress tree, planted after Yang Guifei’s death, stands as a testament to Emperor Xuanzong’s personal obsession.

In classical Chinese tradition, the cypress is an evergreen, symbolizing longevity, fidelity, and endurance. By planting it, Xuanzong was creating a living, enduring monument to his love, a permanent fixture in the landscape that defied the finality of her death. This tree-planting act symbolized his need to preserve her memory and was also an act of rebellion in his refusal to forget her. This longing and outward show of grief, though criticized by court and military officials, was widely utilized in poetry, theater performance, music, and literature in China. Xuanzong’s love was seen as a shame on the royal family, and the destruction of the Tang Dynasty.

He was especially obsessed with finding her spirit. He summoned Taoist priests to look for her spirit/soul so he could reunite with her, apologize, spend time with her.

Hong Sheng’s The Palace of Eternal Youth, immortalizes this act, portraying Xuanzong’s desperate, otherworldly quest to reunite with Yang Guifei’s spirit, reinforcing the idea of a love that sought to transcend mortality itself.[3]

The cypress tree was more than just a private memorial; it was planted in the politically charged space of the imperial gardens. It was a small act of rebellion. These gardens were not only decorative but also powerful symbols of the emperor’s authority and connection to the cosmic order. Historian D.L. McMullen notes, “the imperial gardens were places where “recollection” of the past was intrinsically linked to the state’s legitimacy.”[4] Xuanzong’s act of planting a tree for his disgraced consort could be seen as a highly personal, and perhaps politically charged, intrusion into a state-sanctioned space. It was a public declaration of a private grief for a woman whom many blamed for the catastrophe that had nearly toppled the dynasty.

Du Fu, one of Tang dynasty’s greatest poets, lived and witnessed these events. He authored many poems with a sense of melancholy about the gardens and the capital, the loss of social decorum, and the need for more humanitarian support of the common people. His verses serve as elegies for a lost golden age, as well as a historical record for future generations.[5]

The cypress, in this context, becomes a silent witness to this fall, a living relic of the “everlasting sorrow” by poet Bai Juyi, Stephen Owen translates and commentary identifies this as the central theme of their story.[6] The everlasting sorrow of lost love and a lost kingdom.

The romance of Xuanzong and Yang Guifei has been carried through time, from high literature to popular art. Their love story spread beyond China, inspiring art, and literature in places like Japan. In 1766, the Japanese ukiyo-e artist Suzuki Harunobu created Parody of the Romance of the Chinese Emperor Xuanzong and the Lady Yang Guifei.[7] This work shows how the tale traveled beyond China’s borders, being adapted and reimagined in diverse cultural contexts. Harunobu’s “parody” reflects a fascination with the exotic and tragic dimensions of the story. Though the cypress tree may not appear, the lovers’ story endures through repeated artistic reinterpretation.

The cypress tree planted by Emperor Xuanzong is a historical footnote that speaks of a love through the centuries. It connects the intimate, human emotion of grief with the grand sweep of history. It represents an emperor’s attempt to immortalize a love that defined his reign and, in the eyes of history, ultimately compromised it. From the state gardens of Tang China to the pages of poets and the woodblocks of Edo Japan, the story of Xuanzong and Yang Guifei, and the symbolic tree that memorialized it; remains a timeless narrative of how personal passion can become irrevocably entangled with the fate of an empire.

Bibliography

李虹睿. “Gone, but Far From Forgotten.” https://en.chinaculture.org/2017-04/03/content_981150.htm.

Hong, Sheng. The Palace of Eternal Youth. Translated by Xianyi Yang and Gladys Yang. Peking: Foreign Languages Press, 1955.

McMullen, D. L. “Recollection without Tranquility: Du Fu, the Imperial Gardens and the State.” Asia Major 14, no. 2 2001. Pp. 189–252.

Owen, Stephen. “The Everlasting Sorrow.” Calliope. Peterborough: Cricket Media, 2003.

Suzuki Harunobu. Parody of the Romance of the Chinese Emperor Xuanzong and the Lady Yang Guifei. 1766.

Wright, Edmund. “Xuanzong.” A Dictionary of World History. Oxford University Press, 2006.

[1] 李虹睿, “Gone, but Far From Forgotten,” https://en.chinaculture.org/2017-04/03/content_981150.htm.

[2]Edmund Wright, Xuanzong, A Dictionary of World History ,Oxford University Press, 2006.

[3] Sheng Hong, The Palace of Eternal Youth, trans. Xianyi Yang and Gladys Yang Peking: Foreign Languages Press, 1955.

[4] D. L. McMullen, Recollection without Tranquility: Du Fu, the Imperial Gardens and the State, Asia Major 14, no. 2 2001. 191

[5] McMullen, Recollection without Tranquility, 205-208.

[6] Stephen Owen, The Everlasting Sorrow, Calliope Peterborough: Cricket Media, 2003.

[7] Suzuki Harunobu, Parody of the Romance of the Chinese Emperor Xuanzong and the Lady Yang Guifei, 1766.

Thank you for reading, I appreciate your time. Many blessings.

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Emperor Xuanzong

The Tang political climate between 700 and 800 CE was defined by the tension between imperial authority, regional militarism and bureaucratic corruption.

After Empress Wu Zetian’s abdication in 705, the Li family restored its rule under Zhongzong and Ruizong, though court schemes and unrest continued until Xuanzong’s ascension in 712. “Chinese historians conveniently treat the early decades of Xuanzong’s reign as a high point of the Tang dynasty, a new golden age comparable to that of Taizhong.

They describe an industrious ruler working together with outstanding ministers to restore effective government after 60 years of rule by women. This was also the age when the greatest poets in Chinese history produced their works.” [1] Xuanzong’s early reign epitomized effective governance, with reforms strengthening the bureaucracy and fostering economic prosperity.

However, his later reliance on favorites like Li Lin-fu and Yang Guozhong[i] centralized corruption, alienating regional military governors, causing civil unpopularity and disasters for the dynasty. Xuanzong brought back the great families of Guanzhong. “The middle years of Xuanzong’s reign from 720 to about 736 next, were marked by the revival of the leading families of Guozhong as a force in the court and by the emergence of special commissioners in several fields outside the regular bureaucracy. The revived influence of the Guozhong elite was relatively short lived and may not have contributed much to the developments outside of the court.” [2]

Xuanzong in his youth was renowned for his excellent attentiveness to his subjects, his country and his ideals. His reign began with all good intentions, motives and actions. He promoted literature, arts, culture and music in his court and country.[3] He established Imperial libraries and archives. He promoted trade, expanded foreign emissaries and tributaries. “In short, though in his later years he was guilty of some unpardonable stupidities, his people continued to remember him as the emperor brilliant. They remembered him as having given them many years of peace, prosperity, and brilliant culture. They remembered him as a talented, generous, kindly, and jolly Prince”.[4]

By 736 Xuanzong was no more than a puppet emperor. He had removed himself from court responsibilities. “Xuanzong gave himself over to religion, art, and infatuation with his favorite young courtesan Yang Guifei. Consequently, all power at court came to reside in the hands of a single chief minister.” [5] Subsequently, “In 737 the emperor had three of his own sons killed, including the crown prince.” [6] Afterwards, the royal court fell completely into debauchery, despotism, corruption and distance from the common good of the people.

Li Lin-fu the corrupt prime minister of Tang was determined not to share power. His policies throughout the 730’s-740’s were aimed at specifically holding onto supreme power while keeping Emperor Xuanzong ignorant of the actual internal and external difficulties and strife within the nation. He purged the court of all perceived foes, men of talent, men with loyal patriotism, anyone who could challenge him.[7]

He monitored all movements of the royal family. He “adopted the policy of employing only non-Chinese as military governors. By entrusting his armies to men without ties to the court, he hoped to prevent any potential rivals from gaining political power on the basis of military success.” [8] Li also influenced the imperial exams specifically targeting scholars of talent to fail purposely so that he would remain unchallenged.

The result of the lack of proper leadership during this time was rebellion. Not only were the internal issues of the court causing great distress and havoc for the common people, but also nature was wreaking havoc. Natural disaster after natural disaster kept affecting China as if the Mandate of Heaven [9] was trying to convey a message to the Emperor of Tang at the time. Droughts, floods, famine, the people were starving, refugees flooded cities.

The despondent people, dissatisfied generals and corrupt ministers created an environment ripe with opportunity for uprising. Which was manifested in the An Lushan Rebellion. The rebellion that would “end the High Tang and deliver a damaging blow to the dynasty.” [10]

An Lushan, a Sogdian-Turkic general, exploited ethnic tensions and fiscal grievances to launch a revolt that devastated northern China. The rebellion killed an estimated 13–36 million people, crippled the equal- field land system[11], and forced emperors Suzong and Daizong to rely on Uighur mercenaries and autonomous military governors.[12] During Dezong’s reign (779–805), after the death of Suzong, the court’s authority hinged on fragile alliances with regional warlords, foreshadowing the late Tang fragmentation.[13]

[1] Mark Edward Lewis, China’s Cosmopolitan Empire: The Tang Dynasty (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009), p 40.

[2] Mark Edward Lewis, China’s Cosmopolitan Empire: The Tang Dynasty (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009), p 41.

[3] Wei-Lien Hung, Tu Fu: China’s Greatest Poet. [a Biography with Translations of Poems by Tu Fu.]. Cambridge, MA, United States of America: Harvard University Press, 1952. Pp 44- 45.

[4] Wei-Lien Hung, Tu Fu: China’s Greatest Poet. [a Biography with Translations of Poems by Tu Fu.]. Cambridge, MA, United States of America: Harvard University Press, 1952. Pp 45.

[5] Mark Edward Lewis, China’s Cosmopolitan Empire: The Tang Dynasty (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009), p 42

[6] Wei-Lien Hung, Tu Fu: China’s Greatest Poet. [a Biography with Translations of Poems by Tu Fu.]. Cambridge, MA, United States of America: Harvard University Press, 1952. Pp 47.

[7] Mark Edward Lewis, China’s Cosmopolitan Empire: The Tang Dynasty (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009), p 42

[8] Mark Edward Lewis, China’s Cosmopolitan Empire: The Tang Dynasty (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009), p 43

[9] Dieter Kuhn, The Age of Confucian Rule: The Song Transformation of China (Belknap Press, 2011). p 10.

[10] Mark Edward Lewis, China’s Cosmopolitan Empire: The Tang Dynasty (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009), p 43

[11] Mark Edward Lewis, China’s Cosmopolitan Empire: The Tang Dynasty (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009), p 54-57.

[12] Mark Edward Lewis, China’s Cosmopolitan Empire: The Tang Dynasty (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009), p 58-59.

[13] Mark Edward Lewis, China’s Cosmopolitan Empire: The Tang Dynasty (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009), p 60-61.

[i] Yang Guozhong – high ranking official during Emperor Xuanzong’s reign, was the cousin of the emperor’s concubine Yang Guifei. became Chancellor of the Tang Dynasty, is remembered for his corruption and his alienation of military generals.

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