COPIUM
A week after I finished writing the first blog posting You Were Farming Rice, Now You’re Farming Clicks,  discussing the incoming C-wave and China’s growing influence, Biden signed a law effectively banning TikTok in the U.S. What followed became the biggest clutch of my creative career, securing a seat in the based department just before everyone else. I’m writing this follow-up as I cope with losing my edginess as a Western Xiaohongshu user, while also bragging that I was China-pilled before it was cool.
XIAOHONGSHU
While 170 million internet users scramble to find an alternative to TikTok, many are choosing to explore new platforms instead of fleeing to familiar ones. This behavior could be driven by several factors: reluctance to compete with established creators on Western platforms, Meta’s suppression of leftist content, or simply the desire for a fresh start. One app in particular, Xiaohongshu (or RedNote, as Americans call it), has seen a massive influx of self-proclaimed ‘TikTok refugees.’ It occupies a unique position as a well-established alternative that is globally available on app stores, does not require a Chinese VPN, and lacks competition from established English-speaking creators.
Initially, Westerners were not welcomed with open arms. Some Chinese netizens criticized them for bringing “American slop content” to the platform. Many explained that Xiaohongshu is valued for its high-quality, aesthetic, and informative content, in contrast to the sensationalist and loud videos posted by incoming TikTokers. Others, however, saw an opportunity to grow their audience and began adding auto-generated English translations to their posts. As American content flooded the platform, many users were upset that their carefully curated for you pages had been disrupted.
Given this, we must reconsider the term ‘TikTok refugees.’ In light of the native user base’s response, their arrival resembles a colonial invasion more than a search for refuge. Much like traditional colonizers, Western creators are drawn to the promises of a ‘new land,’ exploring unfamiliar algorithms, enjoying newfound freedoms, and stepping into a blank slate with little to no regard for its existing occupants. One user wrote “native English speakers already enjoy enough privileges, no need to add another one and change ourselves to make them feel more comfortable.”
In my early speculations on how the app’s developers might respond, possible scenarios included launching a separate Western-oriented version (similar to the Douyin–TikTok split), pulling Xiaohongshu from Western app stores, geo-blocking foreign users, or requiring Chinese ID or phone number verification for sign-ups, as some competitors do. However, given that Xiaohongshu is still young and only saw its rise in Asian markets in late 2023, the West became an attractive target for expansion instead. The app has since rebranded itself on Western app stores as RedNote, adopting its Americanized nickname. Another notable change was the swift introduction of a translation feature to facilitate communication between users. I was waiting for Americans to lose their minds over the app’s name literally translating to Little Red Book, a reference to Mao’s Little Red Book, but everyone was too invested in the LARP to care.
Two days after the big wave, many Chinese netizens began cautiously welcoming Western users to the platform, while urging them not to turn it into another TikTok.  Americans (for once) have also recognized the existence of other people and made efforts to encourage respect for the native user base. In agreement with Chinese netizens, many foreign users embraced a culture of bilingual posts, recognizing that most Chinese users either don’t speak English or aren’t comfortable using it. This helped ease the initial sense of exclusion within the community. However, the trend faded with the introduction of instant translations by the platform’s developers. All things considered, there still is an elevated sense of toxicity and hate, something the community hadn’t experienced before the mass migration.
After the initial shock within the community, the event has facilitated many interesting cultural exchanges, with both parties expressing genuine curiosity about each other’s cultures. The influx of TikTokers, although problematic, has also sparked valuable learning experiences and cultural exchanges that I have long advocated for. Users from both sides of the globe are posting questions about internet censorship, LGBTQ+ rights, personal freedoms, social media trends, memes, and more. If the dissonance among users is alleviated, the situation could provide long-term benefits for everyone involved. Americans (and, by extension, the rest of the Western world) could gain a much-needed understanding of Chinese culture, a country so notoriously misrepresented by Western media. Furthermore, this newfound awareness among younger Americans could prove highly beneficial in strengthening local anti-establishment movements. On the other hand, Chinese users could gain exposure to topics often omitted from mainstream discourse, such as queerness.
With ‘Westoids’ already experiencing early signs of the ‘Place, Japan’ effect in its redefined, Sinic rendition, a Chinese app like Xiaohongshu becoming the new meta in America could seriously claim lives in the Department of Homeland Security. For now, the ban has been delayed by the Trump administration. If 2024 taught us anything, it’s that the most entertaining outcome is the most likely. On January 13th, Xiaohongshu stood as the #1 app on the U.S. App Store, proudly giving legislators the middle finger. Once again, yet another unpredictable turn of events, exposing the rhizomatic nature of internet-era politics and opening up new perspectives. As the Chinese general and philosopher Sun Tzu famously said: “All warfare is based […]”

EVERYONE IS GETTING MORE CHINESE
On January 27th, 2025, we witnessed yet another instance of Xi Jinping’s aura-farming. A shocking advancement in Chinese AI, DeepSeek, sent U.S. stocks plunging. Contrary to Sam Altman’s appeals to the government, this competitive model was developed with only a fraction of OpenAI’s claimed budget. Outperforming GPT-4 in response time, DeepSeek has challenged America’s narrative, which seeks to downplay China’s technological successes. Judging from the US’s reaction, apparently the free market is not always good.
At this point, the frequency of China’s wins has caught everyone’s attention. Newly established online exchanges between users from the opposing superpowers have sparked a wave of pro-China sentiment among younger generations. ‘China-posting’ — the practice of sharing memetic images that depict the country in a positive light — was already circulating in less-frequented corners of the internet, but the state’s recent media presence has pushed it onto mainstream feeds. Trending memes, such as an image of the U.S. stock market crash remade into a Chinese flag (see above), reflect the frustration of young Western users who feel misled by their governments’ portrayal of China as a totalitarian, poverty-ridden ‘third-world’ country. While undeniably authoritarian and still grappling with poverty and human rights issues, the civilization-state boasts state-of-the-art infrastructure, high-speed rail networks, and ambitious housing initiatives—luxuries that many Americans can only dream of.
With this newfound resentment toward Western neoliberalism, users began engaging in a practice of weaponized data sharing. Many signed up for multiple Chinese-run platforms and apps, proudly flaunting their willingness to share data with the CCP. This shift wasn’t just about rebellion, it was about seeking alternatives. Disillusioned by Western platforms’ data privacy scandals, censorship, and corporate greed, many users found a strange sense of agency in embracing China’s digital ecosystem. The argument was simple: if all tech giants collect data, why not choose the one that isn’t aligned with the Western status quo?
Freed from Western propaganda, a new perception of China is emerging on social media, perhaps driven by young people searching for signs of hope for the world’s future. As Generation Beta is born into the most uncertain decade since World War II, they may be the first generation to see China as the world’s leading power. While it’s crucial not to blindly praise an imperialist state, we can ask ourselves a question: who’s imperialism would you rather have? With hatred towards the U.S., often driven by personal experience, many young people would pick China. Gen Z and younger are often referred to as ‘digital natives,’ will the first generation rid of resentment towards China be the Gen Xi?

MADE IN CHINA
Trump’s foreign policy is becoming increasingly hostile — whether through his executive order to rename the Gulf of Mexico, talk of annexing Canada and Greenland, claims to the Panama Canal, or the ‘final solution’ in Palestine. Beginning with remarks about the EU being “too woke,” the administration has even threatened to impose sanctions on European countries. Taking many by surprise, it’s hard to imagine the once-inseparable NATO partners having their trade relationships severed by economic warfare.
China’s growing dominance in international trade is primarily reflected in its exports to South American, African, and Asian markets. While the country’s exports to the EU have grown substantially, existing systems still prioritize trade partnerships with the U.S. over China. However, recent exceptions have been made, most notably for the sale of Chinese EVs, which outperform the competition in safety, efficiency, and affordability. If the U.S. imposes tariffs on European countries, it could push the EU to strengthen ties with China, further cementing its status as a rising economic leader. Such newly formed trade partnerships could help shift the fear mongering narratives, helping form new channels for exporting cultural products.
China is already dominating foreign gaming markets, with Tencent owning Riot, 40% shares in Epic Games, and many popular titles like Final Fantasy, Genshin Impact etc. As of now, the country’s cultural exports differ greatly from those of Korea or Japan. Two major examples that come to mind — K-pop and anime — are often products carefully crafted to fit both local and Western markets, with Japan’s government even aiming to artificially boost new anime productions for export. Series like My Deer Friend Nokotan are getting injected with Western references, K-pop distributors have entire business plans centered around the U.S. market and there is a growing dissonance between Japan’s pop culture for the local and global market. On the other hand, China is less interested in tailoring their output to a global audience, and when they do, it’s made more culturally-universal by stripping any semblance of local cultures (e.g. gaming industry). Conversely, China’s culture is inconspicuously leaking through online channels, like aesthetic trends, brainrot or other social media phenomena, as I discussed earlier in You Were Farming Rice, Now You’re Farming Clicks.