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What Else is in a Blind Box? “Love”

Participants leaving their WeChat accounts in a blind box. (Photo courtesy of Huang Shiwen)

Young people in China have come up with a way of exchanging contacts through blind boxes to meet new friends.

By Ryan Li

Steven Zhang*, a 25-year-old bachelor in Guangzhou, China, joined Blind Box for Love on September 13, 2021, wishing to find a lover.

He received two friend requests through WeChat, an instant chat application in China, after leaving his contact in a blind box that cost him RMB ¥2 (US $0.31). He had chats with his new friends, exchanging basic information such as age and hobbies.

“I have very long working hours and have no time to make new friends,” says Zhang who works in the construction industry. He thinks that Blind Box for Love provides a new way to start a romantic relationship.

Zhang has already participated in several different blind box activities since September 10, 2021. He has added contacts of 10 girls to his WeChat friend list so far. They have short and simple conversations most of the time due to “lack of common topics”.

Inside the Blind Box

Blind Boxes operate like toys packed in boxes with the same appearances and sold by vending machines or in stores. In Blind Box for Love activities, or Tuodanmanghe (脫單盲盒) in Chinese, buyers pay for a blind box containing a note with contact information of a stranger.

A participant can leave his or her WeChat account on a note in a paper-made blind box or take a note left by others. No further information other than gender is required. Each box costs RMB ¥1-2 (US $0.16-0.31). Then participants can make use of contact information inside blind boxes to start a conversation through WeChat.

Posts about Blind Box for Love on RED, a social media platform in China where users share their life experience.

Katrina Pan*, who is a 19-year-old university student in Nanyang, Guangdong province, left two notes with her contact in a blind box activity on September 1, 2021.

“I wanted to see what kind of people I would meet by luck, out of curiosity. But it largely depends on what the participants are like,” Pan says.

Blind Box for Love has two categories with one for heterosexual lovers and another for homosexual group. As a member of LGBTQ+ community, Pan was contacted by two girls.

“I wanted to see what kind of people I would meet by luck.”

However, she only chatted once with them upon adding on WeChat, with no further interactions. Pan is disappointed and thinks that she will not try the blind box again. “There are too many uncertainties,” she says.

Unexpected Popularity

One of the Blind Box for Love activities that Zhang and Pan joined was held by Huang Shiwen, who operates a blind box stall and prepares blind boxes for participants together with her two friends.

Huang Shiwen and her friends’ blind box stall in Guangzhou, which involves 100 to 150 participants per day on average.
(Photo courtesy of Huang Shiwen)

Huang, a 20-year-old student majoring in economics at the University of Washington in the U.S., has been staying at home in Guangzhou for online study because of the pandemic.

She spotted the trend of Blind Box for Love activities on RED, a Chinese social media platform where users share their life experience, on August 24, 2021. She was inspired by the idea so she started her own stall.

“We have multiple channels to meet friends nowadays, but the blind box seems purer to me compared to online dating applications. No extra information needed. It is all about luck,” she says. 

“We have multiple channels to meet friends nowadays, but the blind box seems purer to me compared to online dating applications.”

Three days after coming up with the idea of setting up a stall, Huang and her friends stood by the street of Jiangnanxi, a business district in Guangzhou, Guangdong province.

Huang makes about RMB ¥250 (US $38.78) a day in total, involving 100 to 150 participants per day on average. “We didn’t expect so many people would be interested. From 8:00 p.m. to 10:30 p.m. every day, none of us have taken a rest,” she adds.

Huang Shiwen (middle) and her friends standing behind their blind box stall.
(Photo courtesy of Huang Shiwen)

Huang and her friends also initiated an online version. People leave their contacts to Huang through private messages on RED, and Huang then writes a note for each of them and drops it into a blind box.

According to Huang’s observation, most of the participants are female college students, while male participants are at the age of 25 on average.

Huang thinks some of the participants do have the expectation of finding partners through blind boxes. “Everyone understands that the chance is rare,” she says.

“But it’s still good to have one more friend for your contact lists and gives likes to your posts on WeChat even relationship does not work out,” she adds.

A New Option

Chan Lik Sam, associate professor at the School of Journalism and Communication at the Chinese University of Hong Kong, believes that young people’s desire of meeting new people and the “luck by chance” principle of the game are the two factors that make Blind Box for Love popular.

“Young people do have the desire to make their peer circle bigger, which has motivated the development of dating technology,” says Chan, who researches online dating applications and interpersonal communication.

“While dating technology is visually driven, the blind box’s rule is designed to have WeChat ID as the only information, thus resulting in participants’ lower level of purposefulness,” Chan adds.

“The blind box’s rule is designed to have WeChat ID as the only information, thus resulting in participants’ lower level of purposefulness.”

In one of his research papers published in 2020, Chan looked into multiple uses of Momo, a Chinese dating application. He suggested that informants demonstrated dislike towards strong “mudixing” (目的性, purposefulness) when using dating apps.

Chan also holds the view that young people in China seem to be unwilling to date “in any form”, which also contributes to the popularity of Blind Box for Love.

* Names changed at interviewees’ request.

Edited by Lynne Rao
Sub-edited by Vivian Cao

Less Tutoring, More Anxiety

Despite effort to ease pressure on school pupils and parents, the Chinese education system remains competitive.

By Ella Lang

Mary Li enrolled her eight-year-old son in English, drawing, and Lego classes when he was four. When the boy started to go to primary school, other than 40 hours per week in school, he had to spend nine hours on five after-school classes including English and Mathematics.

“Every parent in Shanghai does the same thing. Children will fall behind if they do not take extra classes,” Li says.

Li’s family spends about RMB ¥60,000 (US $9,282) a year on tutoring classes and has spent over RMB ¥200,000 (US $30,940) since her son started attending tutoring classes. Every year countless families fork out for off-campus classes for their children, contributing to the booming tutoring industry in China.

“CHILDREN WILL FALL BEHIND IF THEY DO NOT TAKE EXTRA CLASSES.”

The market size of China’s after-school tutoring for kindergarten to 12th grade (K-12) students reached RMB ¥800 billion (US $123.7 billion) in 2019, and was predicted to break RMB ¥1 trillion (US $0.15 trillion) by 2025, according to a 2020 report by management consulting firm Oliver Wyman.

China banned for-profit tutoring in core education to rein in the country’s private education industry and improve school-life balance for families in July 2021. The policy, dubbed “double reduction”, aims at releasing the burden of off-campus tutoring for students at the stage of compulsory education and excessive homework assigned by schools.

Under the new policy, all private tutoring institutions are banned from making profits by providing tutoring services of school curriculum subjects such as English and Mathematics during weekends, holidays, or after 9:00 p.m. on weekdays. Tutoring is only allowed on weekdays with a limited number of hours.

China issued the “double reduction” policy in late July.
(Source: The State Council of The People’s Republic of China)

After the “Double Reduction” Policy

Li signed up her son for English and Mathematics tutoring classes on Monday and Friday respectively before the “double reduction” policy was introduced. Each lesson lasts for two hours and ends before 9:00 p.m. Her son also has calligraphy, street dance, and basketball classes during weekends.

“All arrangements can remain unchanged because they all meet the time restrictions. But I still dropped Mathematics class provided by leading training organisation Xueersi(學而思)for my son, as he has to stay in school for one more hour. That is quite tiring for him,” Li says.

The “double reduction” policy came with many supporting measures. One of them is to make students stay at school longer by providing free after-school services. Teachers will either help students finish their homework or carry out extracurricular activities based on students’ interests during the extra hours after school, according to a circular issued in June by the Ministry of Education.

“But if my son fails to perform well in school when he goes to high school, I will still sign him up for private tutoring classes,” Li says.

Many parents in China like Li are still worried about their children’s education, although the “double reduction” policy aims to reduce student’s burden and ease parents’ anxiety.

Another anxious parent is Zhou Chunmei in Kunming, the capital city of Yunnan province. The English tutoring agency her son used to go for classes has stopped offering lessons after the policy was introduced. Luckily, she received a full refund from the agency.

Her nine-year-old son Yi Zhishan feels happy about the change. His weekends used to be filled with off-campus classes since he was seven with drawing, piano, programming, tennis, and English classes.

“The English class used to take three hours. Now I can spend time with my friends and family instead,” Yi says. “I am so happy that I can go to amusement parks more often!”

Yi Zhishan, Zhou’s nine-year-old son, is doing homework.
(Photo Courtesy of Zhou Chunmei)

But his mother is still planning to sign him up for English tutoring classes later. “I will wait for a while to see how the policy is implemented. If the restriction loosens, I will get my son to do English tutoring again,” she says.

Zhou is worried about her son falling behind his peers. “If everybody quits off-campus tutoring, then I will certainly applaud the ‘double reduction’. Both parents and students can escape from fierce competition and take a breath of relief. But in fact, the competition still exists,” Zhou says.

Another parent, Selena Zheng, has to cancel Chinese and Mathematics private tutoring classes for her ten-year-old son because the private tutoring agency is no longer allowed to offer classes on weekends. Zheng saves RMB ¥20,000 (US $3,094) per year by cancelling the classes, but she cannot feel any pleasure from this. 

“I am quite worried that he may not learn as well as before. Without extra classes, students’ self-motivation becomes more important,” Zheng says. 

She adds that her son is also not happy about this, as he feels stressed about fighting for a school place of an elite secondary school after becoming a fifth grade student this September.

“As long as there is a university entrance examination, parents will never stop feeling anxious,” Zheng says.

“Those tutoring agencies took care of my anxieties and worries about my child’s education before the ‘double reduction’ policy was implemented. So, now I feel more stressed without the tutoring agencies, and I cannot find a way out,” she adds.

No One Will Stop

Edward Vickers, professor of the Department of Education at Kyushu University, thinks the new policy will not solve the problem.

“The competition will continue, but it will take new forms. Most families will face considerable struggles,” Vickers says.

Vickers thinks private tutoring will continue at private homes on a one-to-one basis, in ways that are very difficult to monitor and in ways that will increase inequality. “You will have to be wealthier to afford,” he says.

He adds that the South Korean government made a radical attempt to crack down private tutoring agencies years ago, but it did not work.

“Because you are not dealing with the demand for tutoring. The Chinese government is only dealing with the symptoms of the disease of educational competition by closing down tutoring agencies, but not dealing with what is causing this educational competition, which is credentialism,” he says.

Because you are not dealing with the demand for tutoring.”

Edited by Vivian Cao & Gloria Wei
Sub-edited by Lynne Rao & Linn Wu

Millennials Return to Nature

More young people in South Korea develop a career in farming recently.

By Chaelim Kim

Kim Young-jin, 27, has been running a blueberry farm for four years after graduating from the Korea National College of Agriculture and Fisheries (KNCAF).

“My father saw possibilities in farming and suggested I study agriculture at university,” he says.

More young people develop a career in farming in South Korea. The number of young farmers under 30 increased by 12.7 per cent over the past year, according to The National Statistical Office.

One of them is Kim who specialised in mushroom production in his study. “Mushrooms were sold at a very low price when I graduated in 2016, so I decided to grow something else,” he says.

He plants blueberries in his 4600-square-metre land because the land is steep, and it can grow limited crops. Blueberry is also a popular fruit in Korea these days.

Kim Young-jin feels happy when his customers and friends enjoy his blueberries. (Photo courtesy of Kim Young-jin)

“The hardest part about starting my farm was securing starting fund. Being a newcomer in the rural area, without knowing anyone, was tough too,” he says.

Kim applied for a government subsidy in 2016 under the ‘Youth Farmer Fostering Policy,’ a scheme that aims to help farmers aged between 20 and 40.

“The scheme subsidises a farmer for three years. A farmer can get a monthly support fund of 1,000,000 won (US $1,000) in the first year, 900,000 won (US $900) in the second year, and 800,000 won (US $800) in the third year,” he says.

“You cannot survive just by growing crops unless you are rich enough to hire employees,” he says. Kim starts his day at 5:30 a.m. and does everything from growing to harvesting by himself. He is also the marketing officer. “Farming is not as simple as it seems. You need to have different skills to make it happen,” he says.

“Farming is not as simple as it seems. You need to have different skills to make it happen.”

Kim reminds future farmers to make as many visits as possible to farming communities beforehand. “Learn from experienced farmers and make very specific plans,” he says.

While there are young farmers like Kim who want to start their own farming business, there are also young farmers who just want to be self-sufficient.

Baik Ji-hyeon and Kim Chan-mi are young part-time farmers in their early 20s. Baik is a university student majoring in history. Kim is a stored-food shop owner who sells different kinds of pesto and pickled food. They are members of Pusil, a group of 10 young farmers practising sustainable farming.

Kim Chan-mi’s Lotus Root Store opened on 28, August, 2021 in Incheon, a city which is 25 kilometres from her farm. (Photo courtsey of Kim Chan-mi)

“I started farming in 2020 because I realised that my freedom is actually a product of exploiting others. I just want to grow enough food for myself,” Baik says.

Baik’s farming partner Kim Chan-mi learned about agriculture when she was a chef. “I love nature and cooking with my own produce. I wanted to farm since I was young,” Kim Chan-mi says.

No chemical fertiliser nor machinery is used in Pusil farm. “My work follows my belief. But sometimes I think modern technology can make the work easier,” Kim Chan-mi says.

“We have to clear weeds with our hands. It takes time and efforts to farm sustainably,” Baik says.

“We have to clear weeds with our hands. It takes time and efforts to farm sustainably.”

Kim Chan-mi harvests sesame in Pusil farm. In Pusil, farmer practises sustainable farming. (Photo courtesy of Kim Chan-mi)

Their hardship pays off when people enjoy their produce. “When my friends smile eating my produce—that is the happiest moment of farming,” Baik says.

Kim Chan-mi feels the same way when she cooks with her produce. “Being able to say ‘This is made out of my crops’ is a big joy,” she says.

Han Ok-gyu, a professor in the Department of Food Crops at KNCAF, says government subsidy and keen competition in cities are the two main reasons why young people join farming.

“The government introduced various measures to encourage more young people to settle in the ageing rural communities,” he says.

Han is optimistic about the future of agricultural industry. “There is potential because the industry is less developed than others. Farming can offer new opportunities to young people,” he says

Professor Han advises young farmers to be well-prepared. “A new and young farmer should also harmonise with the local community in order to be a successful farmer,” he says.

Edited by Eve Lee
Sub-edited by Soweon Park and Charile Yip

A Cantonese Fan from London

Polyglot Grace Njoku learns Cantonese by herself and shares her learning experience on YouTube.

By Winkie Ng

Like many Hongkongers, Grace Njoku falls in love with celebrity Anson Lo, member of a Cantonese boy band Mirror after watching Hong Kong drama Ossan’s Love.

The 17-year-old Irish girl living in London has been learning Cantonese for four years. She can understand many slangs and jokes in the popular drama about gay love. 

“I actually watched Ossan’s Love without any English subtitles. I was so proud because I actually understood it. (It was the) first drama I have watched without English subtitles,” the high school student says.

Njoku’s passion for Cantonese was first ignited when she heard her Chinese friend’s mother speaking Cantonese in 2016.

“I used to feel a bit left out. I never really understood what was going on. If her mum spoke to me, my friend had to be the middle person to translate. I just really hated that,” she recalls.

“I like learning languages, so I was like—Why not just try learning Cantonese? I just thought it will be fun and I will be able to understand,” the Irish girl adds.

Njoku, who is now 17-year-old, can speak six languages: English, Japanese, Mandarin, Cantonese, French and Igbo.

“It (Cantonese) is always very expressive and passionate, so I quite like that,” she says.

Njoku is especially fond of the pronunciation of Cantonese.

“It sounds really funny. It is like singing songs…Even now I have been learning for so many years, whenever I watch anything in Cantonese, I really like the way it sounds,” she adds.

A Bumpy Cantonese Learning Journey

Njoku finds speaking Cantonese difficult at the beginning.

“I couldn’t pronounce the tones. While I was listening, I couldn’t hear the difference between tones. Everything just sounded the same. It was really hard to pronounce and to understand people,” she says.

Grace Njoku takes note of the tones when she learns Cantonese vocabulary. (Photo courtesy of Grace Njoku)

Lacking resources to learn Cantonese in London is another difficulty she encountered.

“I went to a book shop and tried to look for books. Everything was (for learning) Mandarin and Chinese. There was nothing for Cantonese,” she sighs.

But Njoku manages to overcome many obstacles and picks up Cantonese by watching different Cantonese videos and dramas.

“I like watching YouTube videos because they are really easy and short. But recently I just finished a drama, which was Ossan’s Love. I think it is really good so I want to watch more (Cantonese) dramas,” the polyglot says.

Njoku believes Cantonese can be mastered with ease once a person learns the tones.

“I don’t think the grammar is too complicated. When you are able to pronounce the tones. Everything then is not really too difficult,” she says.

She also discovers the beauty of Hong Kong culture.

 “When I first learnt Cantonese, I knew nothing about it…It was the real learning when I found out it was spoken in Hong Kong. Then I started to know about Hong Kong culture and I fell in love with that as well,” she says.

Though Njoku has not been to Hong Kong, she loves the Hong Kong dishes at London’s Chinatown.

“I would say (my favourite foods are) dim sum and desserts like pineapple buns and egg tarts,” she says

Grace Njoku loves making Hong Kong dishes such as scrambled eggs with tomatoes at home. (Photo courtesy of Grace Njoku)

Helping Other Cantonese Learners

Njoku launched her YouTube channel two years ago to share language learning tips. She has about 36,300 subscribers and over 70 videos as of early November.

Nearly a quarter of her videos are about enhancing Cantonese learning and exploring Hong Kong culture.

Her most popular video Black Girl Orders Dim Sum in Perfect Cantonese published last November has garnered over 527,000 views.

“I realised that there might be people like me who are looking for people (who share their Cantonese learning experience) on YouTube, but there weren’t many. So I want to become one of those people and help any other person who is learning Cantonese,” she adds.

Being a YouTuber also helps Njoku build a network and reach out to people who speak different languages including Cantonese around the world.

“Before YouTube, I barely had anybody to speak to. Now, it’s nice that I have people to practise with,” Njoku says.

Besides Cantonese learners, many native speakers also find Njoku’s YouTube videos appealing and follow her on social media.

“When I have questions about Cantonese, I post it on my Instagram. Immediately, I get responses because I have many Hongkongers following me,” she adds.

Grace Njoku learns Cantonese idioms and phrases from her Hong Kong friend. (Photo courtesy of Grace Njoku)

Njoku is happy to see many positive comments on her videos, praising her great effort and accurate pronunciations.

“Seeing those comments makes me believe more in myself. It gives me motivations…(and makes me feel) like I am doing really well now,” she explains.

Sometimes there are a few negative comments, criticising her Cantonese is not impressive enough. Njoku just deletes them and keeps working hard.

Njoku loves Cantonese a lot and wishes there will be more Cantonese learners.

“It will be really sad if it dies and no one speaks (Cantonese) anymore. So I just hope more people can learn Cantonese and people can just continue to speak Cantonese,” Njoku says.

Edited by Linn Wu
Sub-edited by Kelly Yu

2021 Election Committee Subsector Ordinary Elections

The Election Committee subsector elections held on 19 September, 2021 was a far cry from the 2016 polls, in terms of size of the electorate, with a 97 per cent drop in registered voters.

By Pak Hei Leung & Christopher James Lee

Under the new electoral framework imposed by the National People’s Congress (NPC), the 2021 Election Committee subsector ordinary elections saw a 97 per cent decrease in registered voters.

A total of 7,891 voters registered for the 2021 Election Committee election, among whom only 4,889 had to vote, since the rest of the subsectors were uncontested. There were 246,440 registered voters in the last election held in 2016. A total of 412 candidates contest 364 out of the 1,500 seat.

Over 300 people queued outside the Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition Centre to watch the vote counting process at 5:45 pm.
Members of the Federation of Hong Kong and Kowloon Labour Unions (HKFLU), the third largest trade union in Hong Kong, distributed leaflets near the Immigration Tower in Wan Chai.
Secretary of Security Chris Tang Ping-keung arrived at the Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition
Centre at 4:45pm.
The first batch of ballots arrived at the Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition Centre at 7:10 pm.

Electoral Affairs Commission chairman Barnabas Fung Wah apologized for the delay in the announcement of results and admitted the process of vote counting was “unsatisfactory”. Fung expected all results to be announced at around 8am the next day. It took almost 14 hours to finish counting 4,380 votes.

He explained that the problem lied with ballot verification papers – there were human errors with the frontline staff, causing discrepancies on the fill-in ballot paper account.

The Electoral Affairs Commission announced at 8:55 pm that the public gallery has reached full capacity.
Electoral Affairs Commission chairman Barnabus Fung Wah and Constitutional and Mainland Affairs chief Erick Tsang Kwok-wai opened the first ballot box at 9:10 pm.


Edited by Mandy YIM

A Neighbourhood Complying with the Trend of Times

Tangled up in redevelopment and a railway launch, To Kwa Wan residents find ways to cope with the changes in the old neighbourhood.

By Kajal Aidasani

Mok Suk-fan, who has been working in To Kwa Wan for 15 years, feels numb about redevelopment plans in the area and the newly launched MTR Tuen Ma Line.

“Shops being acquired, people moving out… all these have been going on for over 10 years. I am so used to all these new establishments such as Grand Waterfront and Sky Tower,” says Mok, who is a clerk and health worker at Kau Pui Lung Elderly Home.

The elderly home is only a three-minute walk from the MTR station opened since June 27. The railway has brought convenience to Mok and families of the elderly home residents by reducing their commuting time and that encourages them to visit the elderly more frequently.

The district in eastern Kowloon houses over 20 elderly homes. Mok says even with the rising rent, none of them plan to relocate. But shops in the neighbourhood are not that lucky.

An area stretching from Chatham Road north to Ma Tau Wai Road was known as the “Furniture Street”, where many shops vended imported furniture of various styles.

Mok says the noise and road blockage caused by the station’s construction, which lasted for nine years, greatly affected the business of the furniture shops.

“Furniture Street” is now packed with shops selling bread, noodles, paper offerings, and many more.

A hardware store and a candy shop which Mok used to visit are closed. The site where they were located is now zoned for urban renewal.

Kalo Supermarket, a grocery shop run by Winnie Wong, is one of those affected by the redevelopment plans. Her shop moved from Hung Fook Street to Yuk Shing Street, in June.

“To be honest, small shops like us are all struggling. We are just waiting for government’s compensation,” Wong says.

Her shop has withstood the test of time in one of Hong Kong’s oldest districts for nearly two decades. It was even featured in a local illustrator, Wai-wai’s postcard set entitled “Vintage Shop with Love” with 19 sketches of shops in 2016.

Wong’s shop was loved by the community – kids used to go for soda drinks after school, and their parents bought daily necessities such as soy sauce. Workers used to gather there for beer, and some spent quality time petting Wong’s cat at the shop.

Customers used to spend quality time petting the cat at Kalo Supermarket.

Wong says her business has not benefited from the newly launched MTR line as her regular customers were relocated to public housing estates in other districts. “I am suffering from 60 per cent business loss, meaning almost no salary,” she says.

The shop owner says her old customers still visit her at the shop. “They come back two to three times a week to take a final glimpse before more buildings get demolished,” she says.

Although she feels attached to the blue-collar neighbourhood, she believes it is time to use an uplift.

“The walls are cracked and leakage is a problem. It is similar to old people like me. When your internal system is malfunctioning, there is no way to repair. You have to change the entire thing,” she says.

The 55-year-old grocery shop owner has spent 30 years in To Kwa Wan. She hopes she can stay in the district for the rest of her life.

“My youth is here,” she sighs. “I will live here anyway, but I am not sure about my shop. The neighbourhood is changing, and all I can do is to go with the flow,” she says.

The neighbourhood is changing, and all I can do is to go with the flow.

Also being subjected to move are ethnic minority residents in the culturally diverse community. According to the 2016 Population By-Census, 10.1 per cent of Kowloon City District’s population, To Kwa Wan included, were ethnic minorities. One of them is Pakistan-born Wasal Khan, owner of Mashaallah Provision Store, who feels uncertain about the future.

Wasal Khan at his snack shop.

He has lived in To Kwa Wan for nine years, and his shop which sells South Asian snacks opened two years ago.

Khan’s home and his shop are both in the redevelopment area. He has signed the relocation agreement but has not been informed about the official vacate date yet.

His monthly rental expense stays at HK$8600 during the years of urban renewal project. But his business has dropped 70 per cent since the redevelopment projects emptied five streets by the end of August.

“Buildings are cleared up. They are all empty places now. Before there was no MTR, and now there is,” 43-year-old Khan says.

Khan thinks he does not benefit from the new MTR line as his old customers are no longer here. They order delivery by telephone once in a while, and do not do shopping as often as before.

According to the Urban Renewal Authority’s website, a “people first, district-based, public participatory” approach should be adopted to carry out urban renewal, with their sustainability aim to support social inclusiveness and social mobility of the underprivileged.

Notice posted by the Urban Renewal Authority in the redevelopment zone.

But many of Khan’s friends had to move out of To Kwa Wan and bear higher living costs.

Khan prefers staying in the area and moving both his shop and home to the nearby wet market. “I have many friends here. I have business here, and I have my home here, so it (To Kwa Wan) is special (to me),” he says.

Chloe Au Yee-wing, a social worker in the To Kwa Wan urban renewal social service team, thinks the place is unique for its intangible connections between people.

The renewal projects involving Wing Kwong Street, Kai Ming Street, Hung Fook Street, Yuk Shing Street and Ngan Hon Street came to an end by August, with the last two shops moved out on August 16 and the last resident moved out on August 31.

Au says though many elderly people have resettled in buildings with lifts, they prefer their old homes where they grew up with fond memories.

She recalls seeing the charm of the neighbourhood when she first started working in the area two years ago.

“Walking from one end of the street to another, everyone greeted one another. They gathered around a burst water main and joked about it. They put down shopping bags at shops and retrieved them later at night… Small communities with close ties like these are becoming rare in Hong Kong,” she says.

“Strong community networks may be alien to the young generation. Urban renewal and redevelopment are not just about demolishing, compensating and relocating. The ties between people matter too,” Au adds.

Urban renewal and redevelopment are not just about demolishing, compensating and relocating. The ties between people matter too.

Edited by Kelly Yu
Sub-edited by Reus Lok

My Wife is Having an Affair with Mirror

Local pop boy band Mirror has stolen married women’s hearts and “ruined” thousands of marriages.

By Angel Woo

Mirror, a local Cantopop boy band formed after ViuTV’s talent contest King Maker has become so popular in the city that it has been accused of “ruining” thousands of marriages by stealing many married women’s hearts.

One of the “victims” who asked to be identified by his nickname RC, is a 32-year-old man who married his wife two years ago. His wife is madly in love with Keung To, one of the most famous members in Mirror who is 10 years younger than him.

“One night at dinner time, my wife started talking about Keung To as she always does. This time I finally could not stand it and set up a Facebook group named ‘My Wife Married Mirror and Left My Marriage in Ruins Concern Group’ as I wanted to share my ‘plight’ with my friends, who are also the ‘victims’,” RC says.

But he has never expected that so many married men share his feelings. “I set up the group on the night of July 3. At first, there were only a few group members. The number soared to 10,000 the next day. It only took a week for the group to have over 280,000 members,” he says.

Groups members name themselves “ex-husbands” as their wives have been too obsessed with Mirror members and have emotionally abandoned their husbands.

The Joy in Depressing Times

The Facebook group, now with over 300,000 members, has become extremely popular among married men with similar experience. “Ex-husbands” share stories on how their wives are madly in love with Mirror.

“My girlfriend hopped on a bus with Keung To’s advertisements, and she is screaming now, what should I do?” a member said in a post dated September 19.

“My wife bought all products endorsed by Keung To – from Pandora to ice cream mooncakes,” another ex-husband shared in post dated on August 5.

“My wife was not very crazy (about Keung To) at the beginning. She just kept talking about Keung To every day. After I set up the Facebook group, she has been putting up more and more Keung To posters at home,” RC says. “Our wedding photo in the living room is now replaced by a Keung To poster,” he sighs.

RC says he actually did not feel upset at the beginning. “As long as she doesn’t spend all her time watching Keung To’s music video and reading Facebook or Instagram posts about him, it is still acceptable,” he says. “But she keeps testing my limit,” he smiles wryly.

RC admits that it is stressful to manage the group, as the number of followers grows. Mental support from group members has become his motivation.

“People message me to say thank you because they have a lot of fun reading posts in the group. Then I realize a small step I take can bring joy to many, so I journey on,” he says.

“I hope this group can spread positivity to Hongkongers as we have experienced depressing times in recent years. When people talk about this group, I hope they can think of something happy,” RC says.

I hope this group can spread positivity to Hongkongers as we have experienced depressing times in recent years.

“I don’t mean to ask people to escape from reality, but I hope they can be a bit more relaxed,” he adds.

A “Ruined” or Happier Marriage?

One of the “ex-husbands” who found comfort in the Facebook group is Alex Yuen. He described the group as “the source of joy”. His wife Vikaroonie Wong is a fan of Ian Chan Cheuk-yin, one of the main vocals in the boy band.

“After reading stories shared by the ‘ex-husbands’, I know my situation is not that miserable. She only puts up Ian’s posters at home,” he laughs.

Vikaroonie Wong’s room is blanketed with Mirror posters. (Photo courtesy of Vikaroonie Wong)

The couple has been married for six years with two kids aged four and two. Their marriage has been “ruined” after Wong watched “We are the Littles”, a ViuTV drama about young volleyball players featuring Ian Chan Cheuk-yin, a 28-year-old member in the boy band.

“I wondered who this charming guy was when I was watching the drama! Then I found out he is Ian, then I became a die-hard fan,” Yuen’s wife says. “He is so handsome when he plays volleyball,” she says.

“To be frank, I didn’t have any hard feelings. If being a fan of Ian can make my wife happy, then let’s do it,” Yuen explains.

Yuen joined a Mirror event to get a capsule toy of Ian in April as he wanted to give a surprise to his wife.

“My wife always tells me that Mirror has a great variety of fans – from young girls to daddies – so I thought it would not be awkward to go there. But when I arrived, all the fans were young girls, and I was the only uncle standing there! That embarrassing moment was beyond words,” he recalls.

“It is just a joke to say Mirror ruined our marriage. Actually, we have chatted more because of Mirror,” he says.

If being a fan of Ian can make my wife happy, then let’s do it.

From Dislike to Appreciation

Tony Lam, a 26-year-old “ex-husband” pleased his wife by making handmade gifts related to Anson Lo Hon-ting – his wife’s favourite member of the boy band.

Tony Lam created pictures of Anson Lo and his wife by using photoshop to celebrate his wife’s birthday. (Photo courtesy of Tony Lam)
Tony Lam ordered a cake featuring a message “Happy Birthday from Anson Lo” for his wife.
(Photo courtesy of Tony Lam)

“On her birthday, I ordered a cake with ‘Happy birthday from Anson Lo’ written on it and retouched our photos, replacing my face with Anson Lo’s,” he says.

“She was extremely happy. I guess she might not be that happy if I had given her a luxurious bag instead,” he says.

Lam says he did feel annoyed when his wife first became Anson Lo’s fan and they even argued. But his impression towards Mirror changed after watching the Ultimate Song Chart Awards Presentation (叱咤樂壇流行榜頒獎典禮) held by Commercial Radio Hong Kong on January 1, 2021.

“I thought Mirror was MK pop at the beginning,” he says. MK pop, also known as Mong Kok pop, is used to describe local music groups in Hong Kong with strange dance styles that mock Korean pop music groups. 

“But I was touched after watching the awards presentation. More and more Hongkongers treasure our local culture in recent years, so when Mirror said they wanted to sing more Cantonese songs for Hongkongers, I started to appreciate them,” he says.

More and more Hongkongers treasure our local culture in recent years, so when Mirror said they wanted to sing more Cantonese songs for Hongkongers, I started to appreciate them.

Understanding Your Partner

Sally Choi, team leader in counselling at the Caritas Family Crisis Line and Education Centre, who has five years of experience in marriage counselling says, “It seems it is just a joke to say people’s marriages are ‘ruined’.”

“When your spouse falls in love with an idol, one might feel jealous, but it may improve the marriage as they can have more topics to discuss with each other,” she says.

But there are some couples who have conflicts. Choi believes the reason causing these conflicts is because they think their partner has changed.

“For example, their partners may spend their time going to their idols’ events instead of doing house work,” she says.

“Try not to complain and understand why they have these changes. Everyone should communicate with their partners,” Choi suggests.

It seems it is just a joke to say people’s marriages are ‘ruined’.

Fans place advertisements at bus stops to celebrate a member of Mirror Lokman Yeung’s birthday.

Edited by Charlie Yip & Mandy Yim
Sub-edited by Isaiah Hui

The Rebellious Game Content Creator

Ade Zun has surprisingly attracted a bunch of faithful fans despite refusing to create contents appealing to the public.

By Alina Chen

Live streaming on Bilibili so that his fans could watch him playing video as usual on January 19, 2017, Ade Zun, found words in different colours suddenly appear out of nowhere and swoop across the screen. These messages are called danmu, which literally means “bullet screen”, and they are popular on Bilibili, one of the many Chinese video-streaming websites with 50 million subscribers.

Instead of receiving bullet messages commenting on his contents as usual, Zun received birthday wishes from hundreds of his fans this time. “They said they were notified by the Weibo’s birthday reminder,” the game content creator says.

“I was surprised as I had never mentioned my date of birth before … I was touched,” the forty-year-old man recalls the wonderful moment like it happened yesterday, adding that he rarely celebrates festivals in real life after stepping into his 30s.

Journey to Content Creation

Zun had never played video games until he received a game console from his dad in 1991. Since then, he often watched videos recorded by other players to learn more about game strategies.

“I thought I could do the same,” Zun reveals how he was inspired to broadcast himself playing video games online so that others can get tips, ideas and solutions on gaming.

However, unlike other content creators, Zun simply recorded his games and uploaded the videos without editing as he merely wanted to share his game experience.

He started to play The Sims 4 in 2014, a life simulation game published by Electronic Arts, immediately after it was released for Microsoft Window users.

Ade Zun has made a video series for The Sims 4. (Photo courtesy of The Sims 4)

In the life simulation game where players can create unique characters, their homes, and families, Zun has created a family called Zhao, which has lasted for more than ten generations. He records the lives of the family and uploads them to a video series called Life Goes On.

Up till now, Zun has more than 53,000 followers with an average of 2,000 views for each of his 1,700 videos.
He is not that “popular” since other similar Bilibili game content creators usually each has more than 100,000 followers and an average of 10,000 views for each video.

Focusing on the Niche Market

Zun attributes his relatively low popularity to the type of games he plays and the style of his videos.
“Honestly, I do care about the numbers (of his channel) … but content is more important,” Zun says

“Honestly, I do care about the numbers … but content is more important.”

Unlike other game content creators playing exciting games and making visually satisfying videos for the sake of attracting the mass audience, Zun prefers playing relaxing simulation games that could last for several hours. He would also narrate his games in a peaceful way and chat with his fans about life casually.

Zun says he works as a fulltime game streamer and uploader but refuses to disclose how much he earns.
Other than the series of The Sims, he did try to follow the public taste.

Ade Zun has set up a game channel. (Photo courtesy of Ade Zun)

He once tried to record a popular game called Animal Crossing, a popular game released by Nintendo, and edited the videos before uploading to his channel. Although viewers did increase after he changed his style to cater to the public, they left when he gave up playing Animal Crossing.

Apparently, those viewers are not the kind of fans that Zun wants.

This made Zun reflect on his target audience. He says, “My real fans watch my videos for two reasons: game and style. They like my videos as I am playing their favorite games in a unique way. Once I change, they leave.”

“Then, I follow my heart and be myself,” Zun says he would not mimic other trending videos since then.

“Those (viral) short game videos are having negative effects on our society. They are ‘easy to consume’ but shoddy,” Zun complains.

Zun thinks The Sims is a game that allows players to “experience a real life”. “Life is not always an exciting party. It is full of ordinary things,” he says he especially likes to interpret fine details of the life simulation game with his fans.

“As I mentioned in my videos, we have mixed salad for a thousand times, but life will go on,” he says he is determined to continue to make his “monotonous” game content.

Moments with Faithful Fans

“I remember one of my fans said watching my game videos was more interesting than playing the game directly,” Zun reminisces.

“I remember one of my fans said watching my game videos was more interesting than playing the game directly.”


Zun says his friendly fans always motivate him to keep uploading videos. “Although many people will leave unfriendly comments, most comments on my videos are encouraging … I think I am so lucky (that most comments I have received are positive),” he adds.

“Sometimes I will even invite my fans to play with me, they can share their own ‘Sims’ and ‘live’ with character that I have created in the game. It turns out that the game (experience) belongs not only to me (but also to all fans),” he says as he describes his interactions with fans.

“Other than the game itself, my fans like to share their real-life moments with me, say entering a dream school or passing an exam,” he adds, saying that his fans are indeed his close friends.

“I can feel the joy of connection through these moments,” Zun concludes.

Edited by Isaiah Hui
Sub-edited by Coco Zhang

Tsiu Keng Agricultural Park Development

Reporter: Charmaine Choi, Victoria Fong Kit Wa, Lesley Lam Wai Yi
Editor: Sarah Ryou, Savoki Zhang

The Hong Kong government is set to acquire land from local farmers to build an Agricultural Park to revive the agricultural industry. But farmers find the project unnecessary and harmful to traditional farming culture.

Tiny but Tricky Pets

Reporter: Kajal Aidasani
Editor: Sarah Ryou

More people are keeping hedgehogs as pets. But many lack preparation and knowledge to take care of their little thorny friends.