Reimagining Journey to the West: The Forbidden Kingdom and the Seeker’s Journey

Few works in Chinese literature have been able to reach the global stage like Journey to the West has. Written by Wu Cheng’en during the Ming Dynasty, the story follows the Monkey King, a mischievous deity who causes trouble wherever he goes in search of whatever currently occupies his mind. On account of his mischief, he eventually meets the Buddhist monk Tripitaka, who is on a pilgrimage to retrieve sacred scriptures from India, and becomes one of his disciples. Accompanying Tripitaka on his journey are his three disciples, the Monkey King Sun Wukong, the man-pig Pigsy, and the river monster Sandy. Together, they face 81 calamities as they make their journey, fighting whatever monsters and demons stand in their way. On the surface, this story is one of fantastical adventures, but it also serves as a complex work that makes use of religious allegory and political satire to teach the listener/reader moral lessons of redemption and spiritual enlightenment.

A painting of the Monkey King from 1824, painted by Yashima Gakutei.
A painting of the Monkey King from 1824, painted by Yashima Gakutei

Released in 2008, Rob Minkoff’s The Forbidden Kingdom presents itself as a global reimagining of Journey to the West, one that replaces Tripitaka’s pilgrimage with a westernized take of the monk’s expedition. The film begins not in China, but in modern-day Boston, where Jason Tripitikas (a direct nod to you know who), a shy American teenager obsessed with kung fu movies, stumbles upon a mysterious golden staff in a Chinatown pawnshop. Afterwards, when Jason is attacked by bullies and falls from a rooftop with the staff in hand, he awakens in a fantasy version of ancient China. There, he learns that the staff belongs to the Monkey King, who has been imprisoned by the Jade Warlord. Jason’s task as the “Seeker” then becomes to return the staff to the Monkey King and end the terror of the Jade Warlord. Along his journey, he’s joined by Lu Yan, a drunken master played by Jackie Chan, the Silent Monk, played by Jet Li, and Golden Sparrow, an orphaned warrior, played by Liu Yifei.

The main cast of The Forbidden Kingdom
The main cast of The Forbidden Kingdom

While Journey to the West focuses on spiritual enlightenment, The Forbidden Kingdom reframes the story as a coming-of-age tale with action at the forefront. In the original story, Tripitaka’s pilgrimage is meant to test his moral endurance, with his disciples representing aspects of the human condition (rebellion, greed, balance). By contrast, Jason’s journey is more internal and individualistic. He is not a monk striving for enlightenment and the spread of Buddhism, but an ordinary teenager developing his character through kung fu. His transformation from a passive consumer of Chinese culture to an active participant in it shows a contemporary reworking of the pilgrimage theme from the original story.

Sun Wukong’s role also undergoes a subtle transformation. In Journey to the West, Wukong’s rebellion against heaven and his eventual redemption through service to Tripitaka represents the boundless raw freedom of the human mind coming to know restraint. In this film however, Wukong’s journey is simplified into a struggle between imprisonment and liberation. Instead of there being sacred scriptures that Jason has to retrieve, his objective is to free Wukong and return to him his staff. This decision of having Wukong replace the scriptures could have been made to reduce the religious influence that is present throughout Journey to the West, making the movie more digestible for Western audiences.

Speaking of religious influences, the film made an interesting decision when it came to the dialogue in one scene that is worth analyzing. After Lu Yan revealed that he was not an immortal and Jason responded in shock, Lu Yan said this:

At first glance, it seems that Lu Yan is rejecting the Buddhist teaching that attachment leads to suffering and that they actually are what make a life full. However, upon further examination, Lu Yan is not doing that. He accepts the Buddhist principle that with no attachments and desires, your heart will never be broken. Despite this, he believes that a life with suffering is worth more than a life without it, which reflects the Daoist beliefs of the real-life person this character was based on, Lü Dongbin. Buddhism seeks liberation by cutting off attachments, while Daoism accepts attachments as a part of life, which makes this quote from Lu Yan fit his character perfectly.

Depiction of the Daoist immortal Lü Chunyang, also known as Lü Dongbin
Depiction of the Daoist immortal Lü Chunyang, also known as Lü Dongbin

Perhaps the most intriguing part of The Forbidden Kingdom is how it deals with cultural boundaries. The film itself is a product of globalization: directed by an American, filmed in China, starring two of Hong Kong cinema’s biggest actors, and written for a worldwide audience. Jason’s presence as a Westerner among mythic Chinese figures brings cultural exchange to the big screen, giving Western audiences a look into thousands of years of Chinese folklore. Where the Buddhist parables and Daoist lessons were in Journey to the West, are now familiar pillars of the Western hero narrative: destiny, mentorship, and sacrifice.

One way the film participates in this cultural exchange is by incorporating characters from other stories in Chinese history, not just from Journey to the West. For example, Lu Yan is based on Lü Dongbin, one of the Eight Immortals of Daoist legend, and Ni Chang (one of the antagonists in the film) is based on the White-Haired Witch, an anti-heroine from the popular novel Baifa Monü Zhuan.

In the end, The Forbidden Kingdom is less a retelling of Journey to the West than a reflection of how stories are adapted across cultures. Where Wu Cheng’en imagined a religious pilgrimage for wisdom, the film imagines a cultural pilgrimage where East and West fuse and prove that myths continue to evolve centuries after they were born.

Behind-the-scenes video where Jackie Chan explains the film’s message/purpose

A Journey Into the Story Behind ‘Black Myth Wukong’

When discussing Chinese culture and particularly its effects in the west, the elephant in the room is the technological giants that have sprung from China. Such companies have created a huge market in entertainment such as TV dramas, music, movies, and arguably one of the greatest but also surprising mediums through which chinese culture has been able to overcome the oceans has been through video games. Initially, companies like Tencent were behind household games such as Valorant, League of legends, and other games developed by Riot games. Tencent even owns a large stake in Epic games whom created rocket league and fortnite among others. Eventually, an extremely small game developing company by the name of ‘game science’ had an ambitious dream to create a game based on the infamous chinese tale of ‘journey to the west’ in hopes to allow the west to enjoy the story as much as those in previous generations in China once had. Black myth wukong, once a dream, became a game that took the western world by storm and was even nominated and won game of the year in multiple competitions.

Black Myth Wukong’s Action game of the year award – GameRant

This leads to the question, “What is Black Myth Wukong even about?” The short answer is that its about a monkey beating up a bunch of figures of authority, but the truth is that this story about a monkey king written in the 16th century, shaped centuries of lives and even influenced the Chinese government. So, let us dive into that story, the story of the monkey king and his ‘Journey to the west’. The story begins with a naive and arrogant monkey being born from a stone and follows him as he becomes a monkey king leading his fellow monkeys to a life of comfort. This continues until he realizes his mortality and fears the end of his and his tribes life, he ventures to an immortal’s abode and gains supernatural powers under his wing. The arrogant monkey, however, even with his newfound powers grows bored of life and causes a ruckus in heaven proclaiming himself as ‘Great Sage Equal of Heaven.’ After a very successful attempt in causing chaos he is caught and punished under a stone for centuries.

Sun Wukong waving his staff – Black Myth Wukong

The journey truly begins when he is awoken to follow a monk, Tang Xuanzang along with pigsy and sandy to go on an arduous trip to India in order to find the holy buddhist scriptures to enlighten China. Due to the monkey’s arrogant and violent nature he is forced to wear a tight fillet on his head that would subdue his thoughts. Along the trip, the group faces 9 by 9 perfect 81 trials before they achieve their goal and return back to China to deliver the scrolls. After this, they are each (except pigsy) considered enlightened buddhas and conferred the title of buddha. This is where the story of journey to the west ends, and the story of Black Myth Wukong begins!

Sun Wukong challenging the heavens after his village was crushed – Black Myth Wukong

The story continues 500 years after the original. At this point, the monkey king or Sun Wukong had already declined his title of buddha and had returned back to his monkey village. The heavens still disturbed by his existence sent great beings to flatten his monkey village mountain. Thus, the enraged Sun Wukong flew to heaven to claim vengeance. When the fight begins, Sun Wukong discovers that the tight fillet had infact never been removed and that he was still bound by its effects. In an unfortunate turn of events, Erlang shen, the nephew of the Jade emperor, strikes and kills Sun Wukong and his six senses turn into relics that are scattered around the land. Over the following centuries the surviving monkeys in the village retain memory (or myth) of Sun Wukong’s old greatness. They harbor hope of restoring him and some generations try to recover the relics, though it’s unclear how many succeed or how far they get.

Sun Wukong’s Six relics that are to be gathered In the game – Black Myth Wukong

You join the story as The Destined one, a monkey from the surviving tribe who embarks on a quest to recover the six relics that correspond to Sun Wukong’s lost senses. The story follows you as you travel through multiple regions recovering the relics as you fight many monsters that try to stop you from achieving your goals. Along the way you even encounter Sun Wukong’s old friend Pigsy as he tries to help you for a while. While knowledge on journey to the west is not required, having read the tale enhances the experience as many of the enemies and people you meet along the way directly come from journey to the west and give you a sense of familiarity as you play the game. In order to preserve the game’s story and prevent spoiling the experience, I wont explain the game’s exact plot from here on outwards. However, I highly suggest anyone reading to try playing Black Myth Wukong, a game that almost extends its fingers as far back as the 1500s and creates a new story that is so profound that it makes you wonder how much video games truly can convey a story and how much they influence our modern world. The story developed from the game redefines the end of ‘Journey to the west’ and makes one ponder if the Journey in its entirety was even truly a success if Sun Wukong and heaven still fought afterwards, or does it just demonstrate the cyclical nature of the world, with the game’s plot being the next iteration of the cycle? 

“老外!”

An Introduction:

While the assignment was to tackle an internet keyword or slang that is contemporary in its usage, I felt the necessity to discuss and talk about one that has been slang and a key phrase for the longest time, and still is by definition an internet keyword, with endless reddit and Facebook posts on the debate of this phrase.  “老外” or “Lao Wai” is a phrase/name given to non-Chinese natives or foreigners to China. If you’re Chinese or grew up around the language, then you’ll know how frequently it’s used and how much it blurs the line between slang and proper, and the line between offensive and innocent. As a 12-year-old walking with my family in NYC, and my parents would whisper “Laowai”, I always questioned the validity and niceties of that word. However, if you aren’t familiar with this word, hopefully this becomes a good and provocative introduction to the phrase.

This video, one of the first ones to appear when searching for “老外” as a term, explains some common scenarios of being called a “Lao Wai” in China, with a sequel of the video discussing the regional variations such as “Gwai Lou” as a word for westerners or “Lao Hei” for individuals of African descent.  The video, however, starts an interesting thought process. How are some individuals not offended by these terms and take it as a kind greeting to start an interaction, while others find it as a hateful piece of slang that reduces individuals to their separation from Mainlanders.

Two sides of a phrase:

This leads me to how I want to cover two sides of the phrase “Lao Wai” and how it sits in the middle between offensive and innocent as a vocabulary term. On one side, you have those in Mainland China, who have used the term very frequently for all their lives, and would argue that there is nothing controversial, offensive, or bad meaning in any sense. Not only that, but there are also many foreigners who understand that this is not bad meaning in any sense and understand that this is just a word within the culture that people use to refer as a blanket statement to all foreigners, not something negative.

Facebook and other forums are a great way of understanding real people and their individual opinions. Following off this person, it makes a lot of sense that Chinese people won’t be able to distinguish between a German and a Dutch person, or a lot of western ethnicities. While using a very different comparison, westerners also make blanket labels of easterners, such as Asian, even though that encompasses a large range of actual ethnicities.

The other side:

On the other side, some westerners would find that “Lao Wai” feels like a rude and derogatory statement. If you’re a foreign person visiting China, it’s not likely that you want to be boiled down to a one-word catchphrase, purely representing your non-Chinese background. This is made worse by how some people can use “Lao Wai as more of an insult-slang term than others. Even while not warranted at all, the use of “Lao Wai” as derogatory and in a negative connotation reinforces already heightened tensions between Chinese and Foreigners. Because of this confusion between “Lao Wai” being a good or bad force, often results to westerners defaulting to it being a negative phrase.

Reddit being the choice of community-based discussions for this section.

Fast Forward:

However, I want to turn the page to something related, but pointing towards a more positive direction. China and Chinese people, in my own opinion, are more used to being less of a melting pot than other countries. While Asians in the US constitute 7.4 percent of the population (US Census 2022), Westerners with residence permits only constitute 0.05% of the Chinese population (Global Times). As such, it’s a very different approach and understanding to foreigners than how we see immigrants in the US, typically in a more blanketed way as “Lao Wai”

(No need to watch the whole thing at all.)

However, times have and currently are changing. The following video is one of the largest examples of a cultural movement in recent years. 94 million views is not a small feat, with a meaningful percent of Chinese, Chinese American, and American people having seen this video. The video itself shows Xiaoma, a non-Chinese individual shocking everyone in restaurants by ordering in perfect Chinese. Countless other videos or blog posts like this have come up since then. It shows how the typical image of a clueless foreigner is being rewired in people’s head as someone who can be accepted and isn’t just a “Lao Wai”

So how does this change? Or does it? In my experience, this specific phrase has a major disconnect between the people that use the phrase and the people that get referenced by that phrase. This disconnect gets closer and closer to a resolution the more people talk about it together, with friends or community, understanding the cultural differences and adapting to them ultimately helps everyone be more understanding.

-Ryan Yin

Sources:

https://www.census.gov/newsroom/facts-for-features/2024/asian-american-pacific-islander.html

https://www.globaltimes.cn/page/202401/1305667.shtml

When the Crowd Rules: Rethinking the Red Guards

When we think about the Cultural Revolution, certain images come to mind: Red Guards waving their little red books, shouting slogans, tearing down temples, and humiliating teachers. These scenes are powerful—but they leave us with one big question: how did ordinary students, the kind who used to respect their teachers and follow rules, suddenly turn into people capable of violence?

The easy answer is that they were “fanatics.” But oral histories tell a more complicated story. They show how fear, peer pressure, family responsibility, broken friendships, and blind loyalty to Mao all shaped the moment. Together, these forces created what Tocqueville once called the “tyranny of the majority”—when people stop thinking for themselves and just go along with the crowd.

Fear and the Pressure to “Act Left”

One former student remembered: “My father had bourgeois thinking, but he was scared, so he acted more left than others.” That wasn’t real belief—it was fear. In that atmosphere, even silence could be dangerous. Tocqueville warned that when people trade independent judgment for comfort, they start losing their sense of responsibility (Glen-James, 2020). That’s exactly what happened. To stay safe, many shouted louder and acted harsher than others. Conformity became a shield. The more people tried to prove their loyalty, the faster fear turned into collective violence. Tyranny didn’t come from one dictator—it came from millions of small acts of self-protection.

Broken Friendships and Family Burdens

Another interviewee recalled how politics broke apart childhood bonds: “Friends who grew up together stopped talking because their parents had different class backgrounds.” Politics entered daily life and destroyed trust. Classmates turned into enemies. Once trust disappeared, it became easier to justify hurting someone. For some young people, joining the Red Guards wasn’t about ideology at all—it was about protecting their families. She said that if she stayed out of the movement, her parents would face harsher punishment. In a world where guilt was inherited, being politically active could save the people you loved. Robert Dahl (1989) once wrote that political systems—democratic or authoritarian—depend on how people balance private life with public rules. During the Cultural Revolution, that balance completely collapsed.

“Grabbing Houses” and the Power of Words

A man from Shanghai described a trend he called “grabbing houses.” Poorer families rushed into rich people’s homes and simply moved in. They called it justice. In reality, it was robbery—but it was robbery with a slogan. Politics mixed with greed, and language made it look moral. Under the banner of “class struggle,” envy and desire were dressed up as righteousness. Orwell would have called it “Newspeak.” Levitsky and Ziblatt (2018) warned that when words lose their meaning, political norms fall apart. That’s what happened here: words like “enemy” and “struggle” turned violence into virtue. Ironically, being a Red Guard could also protect your family. Some wealthy households avoided raids simply because their children were in the movement. In that way, joining became less about belief and more about survival.

Mao’s Aura

Fear and social pressure explain part of it, but Mao’s presence gave everything a sacred meaning. In August 1966, Mao greeted millions of Red Guards at Tiananmen Square. For many students, that day felt like being chosen by history itself. His smile, his silence, even his wave seemed like an order. Tocqueville once observed that people often hand power to leaders while cheering them on. That was exactly what happened. Mao became the emotional center of the movement. He made obedience feel noble and violence feel patriotic. Students didn’t think they were punishing teachers—they believed they were serving the revolution.

Complicated Memories

When we look back, it’s easy to call the Red Guards monsters. But the truth is more uncomfortable: they were scared kids trying to fit in, children trying to protect their parents, and teens influenced by a leader’s appeal. Huq and Ginsburg (2018) say the first step of democratic erosion happens when citizens choose safety over responsibility. That’s what we see here. Tyranny didn’t need evil people—it only needed ordinary people who stopped questioning what they were told.

Why It Still Matters

The Cultural Revolution isn’t just a story about China’s past. It’s a warning for every society. Tocqueville feared the tyranny of the majority—when people prefer comfort to conscience. Dahl reminded us that even good citizens can support unjust systems. Levitsky and Ziblatt showed how political norms die when words and values are twisted. When fear replaces discussion, when slogans replace truth, when families break apart over politics, and when leaders are worshipped instead of questioned—the tyranny of the majority returns. And it never looks like tyranny at first. It often arrives with cheering crowds and a sense of pride.

The Red Guards were young, anxious, idealistic, desperate to belong. They remind us that under the wrong conditions, ordinary people can do terrible things for reasons that seem right at the time. So maybe the question isn’t, “Why did they change so fast?” The harder question is, “What would we have done in their place?” Because history’s most chilling lesson is this: tyranny doesn’t need monsters. It only needs people like us—choosing safety over judgment, one small step at a time.

References

East Asian Library, University Library System, retrieved from CR/10: China’s Cultural Revolution in Memories: The CR/10 Project website: https://culturalrevolution.pitt.edu/
Dahl, R. (1989). Democracy and Its Critics. Yale University Press.
Glen-James, A. (2020). Democratic Despotism as Described by Alexis de Tocqueville. Raw History.
Huq, A. Z., & Ginsburg, T. (2018). How to Lose a Constitutional Democracy. UCLA Law Review.
Irm, H. (2022). Lecture: Problematics of the ‘Best’ & ‘Worst’ Political Systems. NTUlearn.
Levitsky, S., & Ziblatt, D. (2018). How Democracies Die. Crown Publishing Group.

Abstract (“抽象”)

The original meaning of abstract is often referring to philosophy or artistic concept. In philosophy aspect, abstraction means the process of generalizing rules and concepts from specific examples. In artistic aspect, abstract represents an art style that composite shape, form, color and line to create a form of visual references. Nevertheless, I my opinion, abstract in Chinese means something that is highly-conceptualize, esoteric, and meaningless in day-to-day life. However, when the word “abstract” is introduced to Chinese internet the meaning of it changed dramatically.

abstract art

Before talking about what is “abstract” means, lets talks about the origin of “abstract” in Chinese internet. When and how does “abstract” in become so popular in China? many people argue that abstract start from nowhere. However, the online popularity of “abstract” is origin from “abstract studio”(抽象工作室), founded by Li Gan. Li Gan is one of the most famous streamers in early-stage Chinese internet. Firstly, the streaming content is just merely playing video games. However, Li Gan found that these dull contents cannot capture the attention of audiences. He switched his streaming style into talking style, for example watching others’ streaming, talking with chatroom. Soon, the interesting accent of Li Gan and other streamers in “abstract studio” leads to many audiences imitate their ways of talking. That is the origin of “abstract”. The audiences called these ways of talking and expression as “abstract speech”. Nevertheless, audiences of “abstract studio” started to spread hatred and vulgar speech in the community. They poured in other streamers’ chat and spread tons of irrelevant and hatred comments. Due to the censorship, Li Gan have soon been banned from the Chinese streaming platform. In the first stage, “abstract” represents the specific ways of talking, and “abstract” also express many hatreds, negative , and vulgar atmosphere.

(as you can see in the image below, this is the very first three founder of "abstract studio". It seems that they have a pretty healthy and positive atmosphere, however, it is actually the opposite when they are streaming. That could also count as some extends of abstraction in the more modern definition. They are deconstruct the normal feeling of positive atmosphere.)

After “abstract studio” was banned, meaning of “abstract” have changed drastically. After “Abstract Studio” was banned, the meaning of “abstract” changed drastically. Without the direct influence of Li Gan and his group, the word began to evolve in broader online communities. Internet users started to use “abstract” not only to imitate Li Gan’s speech patterns but also to describe any content that felt bizarre, illogical, or absurdly funny. The negative and aggressive tone of the early “abstract” gradually faded away, and the word transformed into a cultural symbol of absurdist humor. It became a way for people to express sarcasm, irony, and self-mockery in an exaggerated or irrational manner. Also, as a result of reducing its aggressive tone, “abstract” became a popular Chinese internet keyword that is accepted and collected by the official.

“Doing abstract stuff”(搞抽象) have been collected in Chinese language report in 2024. Abstract refers to a style of expression that disobey the social norms and convention, focusing on characterize expression. People who are “abstract” often tends to express their emotions through absurd, sardonicism, non-linear ways.

The popularity of “abstract” on Chinese internet is definitely not an accident. It reflects the emotions, generation confusion, self-identity, and cultural environment of the younger generations.

Firstly, “abstract” fulfill the needs of younger generation’s desire to rebel the social norms and seriousness. In the modern Chinese society, younger generations often face uncountable pressure from multiple aspects, like society and family. And the rise of “abstract” offers them a creative way to deconstruct authority and challenge the social expectation by expressing absurdity. By deconstruct the original meaning, the creator of “abstract” content contains a sense of humor which are used to express their emotions that unable to express in the normal time.

In addition to helping younger generation resisting the competitive social atmosphere, “abstract” also fit perfectly with today’s mainstream Chinese internet media form—short videos. On the platform like Bili Bili, Douyin (Chinese TikTok), Red Notes, and etc. All of these users of these platform consume an astonishing amount of short vides. However, explaining or creating something that have real contents in probably 30 seconds to 1 minutes is nearly unrealistic. Therefore, by the unstoppable trend of short video in Chinese internet, “abstract” contents are largely created and published in Chinese social media since in the most of time “abstract” contents are presented in a short and dramatic style, for example, “abstract” video often only last within 1 minute.

In conclusion, the rise of “abstract” in the Chinese internet represent not only a linguistic evolution, it also demonstrate the chinese younger generation’s spirits, where they would pursue humor and challenging authority through meaningless and absurdity.

“Investiture of the Gods”: The Anti-Corruption Themes of Ne Zha 2

A Modern Adaptation of Nezha Into an Anti-American and Anti-Corruption Message

封神演義 (Fēngshén Yǎnyì, or “Investiture of the Gods”) is a 16th-century Chinese novel set in the Zhou and Shang Dynasties, revolving around Chinese mythology, Buddhism, Confucianism, and Taoism.

Illustrations of Fengshen Yanyi - Zhong Xing (1574–1625) (book one)
Illustrations of Fengshen Yanyi – Zhong Xing (1574–1625) (book one)

“Investiture of the Gods”

The story is set in a world that is divided into immortal and mortal realms, where Daoism is responsible for priests, immortals, and deities. The weakening of the Shang Dynasty and the corrupt nature of King Zhòu (the last ruler of Shang) loses the Heaven’s favor. The issue of the Mandate of Heaven leads to a war between the Shang Dynasty and the new Zhou Dynasty because of Heaven giving Jiāng Zǐyá the mission of overthrowing the Shang Dynasty. 

Nézhā (or Third Lotus Prince) is birthed into this time period, having the destiny of assisting the Zhou Dynasty in overthrowing the Shang Dynasty. At the age of 7, Nézhā kills Prince Áo Bǐng (the son of the Dragon King of the East Sea) and angers the Dragon King of the East Sea. The danger that Nézhā caused to his family prompts him to cuts open his abdomen and flesh as a sacrifice to repay his debt for his troubles. He is reborn as an immortal and is trained by Tàiyǐ Zhēnrén to wield magic weapons and powers. Eventually, Nézhā helps Jiang Ziya’s forces in the war against the Shang Dynasty, fighting off demons and immortals who support the corrupt government. One of the prominent characters he fights is Shēn Gōngbào who convinces the people to oppose the Zhou Dynasty. At the end of the novel Nézhā is given the divine command of becoming a martial deity (Marshal of the Central Altar) because of the reorganization of Heaven after the fall of the Shang Dynasty.

Illustration of Nézhā
Illustration of Nézhā

The story of Nézhā is very well known in China, with modern adaptations of the story becoming mainstream. One prime example is the animated movie series Ne Zha and Ne Zha 2 which features Nézhā as the main character.


Ne Zha 2 Poster

Ne Zha 2

Featured in 2025, Ne Zha 2 adapts the story of Nézhā into a modernized piece that embodies modern Chinese radical ideas—diverging from the actual story of Nézhā. However, like many of the common themes of Chinese stories, Ne Zha 2 communicates the justification of rebellion against corrupt elites. These themes appear in the “Journey to the West” where Monkey disobeys the disorganized/corrupt Heaven and in “Investiture of the Gods” where Heaven sets up a rebellion against the corrupt Shang Dynasty.

The origins of Nézhā in the movies diverge from the actual story, rewriting the story to how Nézhā was birthed with the fate to die within three years to heavenly lightning. The relationship between Áo Bǐng and Nézhā develops as a friendship, putting them as allies against Áo Guāng and the Daoist Chan sect. Instead of the journey following the overthrow of the Shang Dynasty, the movie follows Nézhā and Áo Bǐng journey to protect Chentang (Nézhā’s birth town) from Áo Guāng and to complete trials to become immortal. However, Áo Guāng is actually framed by the Daoist Chan sect, as the immortals and priests seek to keep their immortality and power.
Anti-Corruption


Anti-Corruption

The long history of corruption in Chinese Dynasties influences many stories to have anti-corrupt ideas that justify people’s rebellion against a corrupt government. Ne Zha 2 develops this theme by displaying the corruption of the Daoist Chan sect, a heavenly sect consisting of immortals and Daoist priests. Similarly to the “Investiture of the Gods,” the “good” figures in heaven are revealed to have immoral intentions, validating Ne Zha’s fight against the Chan sect. Ne Zha 2 keeping the original themes of the “Investiture of the Gods” displays the government’s attempt at developing anti-corruption mindsets.

Wuliang being exposed as a corrupt official and fights against Nezha

The exposure of a heavenly immortal, Wuliang, as a corrupt official in the Chan sect, highlights how “good” and high ranking officials can be corrupt. The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) promotes the behavior of exposing and rebelling against these individuals; thus, the reason why Ne Zha 2 shifts the original story from just rebelling against the heavenly sect to exposing the corrupt nature of heaven and rebelling against its desires. The support of these ideas are seen in multiple modernizations of Chinese stories, such as the Journey to the West, which is changed to promote this rebellious behavior—a representation of the CCP’s revolution. Furthermore, by connecting the Chinese concept of how corruption is punished by fate—Heaven’s order to overthrow the Shang Dynasty—influences people to actively stop themselves from committing corrupt acts. The themes in Ne Zha 2 legitimizes the CCP through promoting behaviors that follow an anti-corrupt mindset: punishment of corruption and exposing corruption.

Anti-American

The development of anti-corruption in Ne Zha 2 contributes to the anti-American themes present throughout the show. The heavenly-sect symbolizes America, building a negative image of the democratic government as a corrupt and power-hungry institution. The divergence from the portrayal of Chinese Dynasties being corrupt to modern imperial governments—America in this case—displays the growth of Chinese nationalism and influence of the Chinese government.

Comparison of the Jade Palace to the U.S. Pentagon

Instances of the heavenly-sect displays subtle imagery that resembles American values. The Jade Palace in Ne Zha 2 looks very similar to the U.S. Pentagon, and the Jade Pass has a symbol that looks similar to the American passport. The representation of the heavenly-sect as the American government displays America as an imperialist country that seeks to maintain power. The movie follows Nézhā going through multiple trials to obtain immortality—something that the heavenly-sect already has—correlating to China’s attempt at being at the top of the global division of labor system which the U.S. runs.

Jade Pass and American Eagle
Comparison of the Jade Pass to the American eagle symbol

Nézhā being born from the demon orb leads to discrimination because of his fate of being “evil,” however, his transformation at the end of the movie makes him the leader of the resistance against heaven. Similarly, due to China’s communist government, many countries dislike the country’s values, as the world norm is to follow free market and democratic values. However, Ne Zha 2 attempts to break this norm, showcasing how Nézhā, a demon-born, actually leads the way rather than a corrupt institution. Therefore, Nézhā plays the role of symbolizing China as the actual hero of the story that leads the developing countries rather than the U.S. who claims they’re the “light/heaven” of the world.


With anti-corruption and anti-American themes being present in Ne Zha 2, ancient Chinese stories are modernized as pieces of propaganda for current governments and ideals. The story of Nézhā is modernized to display the dynamics of the global world, posing as propaganda for the CCP and its superiority over democratic institutions.