Friday, January 2

Sea Lament: The Rise, Fall and Destiny of the Ryukyu Islands (Part I)

 


The picturesque Ryukyu Islands, where every corner carries a story buried deep in the vicissitudes of history. Along the tranquil azure coastline, beaches are gently caressed by the sea breeze, as if resonating with times from centuries ago. Yet behind this beautiful scenery lies a painful history once forgotten.

In the mid-to-late sixth century AD, Emperor Yang of the Sui Dynasty ordered the cavalry officer Zhu Kuan to set sail and explore distant foreign lands. Zhu Kuan arrived at what is now the northern part of Amami Ōshima and Yonaguni Island. He saw a cluster of islands winding through the waves like pearls, resembling a curled dragon floating on the water. Thus, he gave this mysterious place a name—Liuqiu (流虬, meaning "Flowing Dragon").

Due to language barriers, he captured a local inhabitant and brought him back to the Central Plains. The following year, in the fourth year of the Daye era of Sui, Emperor Yang again dispatched Zhu Kuan to Ryukyu, attempting to pacify the situation. At that time, Ryukyuans often came to the military camps as merchants to trade, indicating that civilian exchanges between China and Ryukyu existed even before they were recorded in official Chinese historical texts, though the exact timing can no longer be verified.

However, the Ryukyuans were unwilling to accept pacification. Emperor Yang of Sui then ordered General Chen Leng of the Martial Guard and Court Counselor Zhang Zhenzhou to lead an army to subjugate Ryukyu. In the army was a Kunlun native who could speak the Ryukyuan language fluently; he was sent to conduct pacification work, but the Ryukyuans still refused to compromise. The Sui army finally launched a military campaign, captured Shuri Castle, burned the city, and took over a thousand men and women captive back to the Central Plains.

Later, when the Tang Dynasty compiled the Book of Sui, considering that "qiu" (虬) means "little dragon" in Chinese and to avoid conflict with imperial titles, the place was renamed "Liuqiu" (流求). It was not until the fifth year of the Hongwu era of the Ming Dynasty (1372) that this place was officially named "Ryukyu" (琉球), implying that it was as precious as glazed jade and pearls. This name has been used ever since. Thus, the history of Ryukyu gradually unfolded its remarkable chapters through exploration, adventure, exchange, and conquest.

During the Qiandao era of the Southern Song Dynasty, "Chinzei Hachirō" Minamoto no Tametomo drifted to Ryukyu, which had not yet established formal relations with China, and fathered a son. This son was named Shunten, who at age fifteen became the Lord of Urasoe. In 1186, during the Chunxi era of Song, the 25th king of the Tenson Dynasty, which originally ruled Ryukyu, was assassinated by the powerful minister Riyu, throwing the Ryukyu Kingdom into chaos. Shunten sent troops to suppress the rebellion and eliminated Riyu. As the last king of the Tenson Dynasty had no heir, the 22-year-old Shunten was enthroned by the ministers the following year. After the fall of the Song Dynasty, Emperor Shizu of Yuan changed "Liuqiu" to "Ruiqiu" and sent troops to conquer, capturing over 130 people before returning. This was the second and final military expedition against Ryukyu by a Central Plains dynasty. Although the Sui and Yuan dynasties had both conducted military campaigns against Ryukyu, neither aimed to annex it. The goal of the Central Plains dynasties was merely to incorporate Ryukyu into China's tributary system, which was finally achieved during the Ming Dynasty.

By the end of the Yuan Dynasty, Ryukyu had divided into three kingdoms: Sannan, Chūzan, and Sanhoku. Among them, the Kingdom of Chūzan was the most powerful. In 1372, the Hongwu Emperor issued summons to all three, and Chūzan's envoy was the first to present tribute at court. After the tributary relationship between Ryukyu and China was established, in the eighth year of Hongwu, Emperor Taizu ordered sacrifices to Ryukyu's mountains and rivers to be conducted in Fujian. When the kings of Sannan and Sanhoku learned of Chūzan's tribute, they also paid tribute to the Ming Dynasty in 1380 and 1383 respectively, officially becoming vassal states of Ming and competing for Ming's recognition and support. As all three kingdoms claimed legitimacy before the Ming Dynasty, conflicts among them were incessant. In the sixteenth year of Hongwu, Emperor Taizu sent the envoy Liang Min and Lu Qian to announce to all three kingdoms, ordering them to cease hostilities. After receiving the imperial edict, the three kingdoms temporarily laid down their arms. In 1429, King Shō Hashi of Chūzan defeated King Tarumai of Sannan, unified the three mountains, established the Ryukyu Kingdom, and made Shuri Castle the capital. The King of Chūzan was enfeoffed by the Ming government as the King of Ryukyu.

In the fifth year of the Xuande era of Ming (1430), Emperor Xuanzong decided to bestow upon the Ryukyuan king the special surname "Shō" (尚). This bestowal carried profound significance, as in ancient China, "shang" (尚) represented the important duty of managing imperial affairs. Emperor Xuanzong's bestowal was clearly well-considered.

From then on, throughout the Ming and Qing dynasties, successive Ryukyuan kings had to receive investiture from China to legitimately ascend the throne. Otherwise, they could only be called "Crown Prince" (世子), temporarily managing state affairs. From Satto to the last king Shō Tai, this investiture system was never interrupted. The political legitimacy of Ryukyuan kings had to be recognized by the Central Plains dynasty; even usurpers like Kanamaru had to pretend to be the legitimate king's son, change his name to "Shō En," and request imperial investiture. In 1472, Emperor Xianzong of Ming invested Shō En as King of Ryukyu Chūzan, opening the curtain on Ryukyu's Second Shō Dynasty.

However, the relationship between China and Ryukyu was not limited to political investiture. From the twenty-fifth year of Hongwu (1392), Emperor Taizu of Ming allowed children of Ryukyuan royalty and high officials to study at the Imperial Academy. Meanwhile, given the navigational difficulties faced by Ryukyuan envoys traveling to China, China specially granted thirty-six families from Fujian to settle in Ryukyu; they were experts in shipbuilding and navigation. These Fujianese were not only skilled in navigation but also served as interpreters and handled other important tributary affairs. This measure aimed to promote the values of the suzerain through Chinese immigrants to Ryukyu, spreading Confucian thought and Chinese culture, attempting to let Chinese cultural ideas represented by Confucianism take root in the vassal state.

Among the thirty-six families sent to Kume in Ryukyu, those from Fuzhou were primarily surnamed Zheng, Yang, Lin, Liang, Cheng, and Jin; those from Quanzhou were mainly surnamed Cai; and those from Zhangzhou were primarily surnamed Ruan and Mao. From the early Ming bestowal of the thirty-six families during Hongwu to the mid-Ming Wanli era, over two hundred years, the influence of the thirty-six families in Ryukyu did not grow stronger but gradually waned. By the end of the Wanli era, most of the Kume thirty-six families had either died out or changed their surnames, with few remaining. It had become virtually impossible to rely entirely on the descendants of these early Ming Kume thirty-six families to serve as chief historians and interpreters. In the thirty-fifth year of Wanli (1607), King Shō Nei petitioned the court "to follow the precedent of the Hongwu-Yongle eras and again bestow thirty-six families to enter Ryukyu to continue serving in their duties." The request was politely declined by the Ministry of Rites. Unable to obtain another opportunity for Chinese households to be sent to Ryukyu, the Kume thirty-six families thereafter received no fresh blood from mainland China.

The fall of the Ming regime and the end of Ming-Ryukyu tributary relations once plunged Ryukyu into confusion, while also providing multiple possibilities for handling its foreign relations. Ultimately, Ryukyu established a suzerain-vassal tributary relationship with the Qing Dynasty, becoming a member of the East Asian tributary system centered on Qing. The establishment of Qing-Ryukyu tributary relations accompanied the mutual struggles and games among various power groups during the Ming-Qing transition. In this process, Ryukyu chose the Qing Dynasty—the most powerful entity capable of providing Ryukyu with national security guarantees and economic benefits—maintaining its national polity and economic-social development within the framework of the tributary system led by Qing. The internal motivations for this choice were primarily based on considerations of realism, along with the historical accumulation of centuries of Sino-Ryukyuan tributary relations and the value identity it conferred, the realistic interests of the maritime merchant groups that dominated Ryukyu's economic and trade activities, and Ryukyu's national character of serving the great power and self-deprecation. The establishment of Qing-Ryukyu tributary relations allowed Ryukyu to return to its previous position at a historical juncture when the Ming-Qing transition and the East Asian maritime power configuration were complex and volatile, securing a stable political and economic environment to maintain its overseas trade development and ensure its continued existence as "an independent nation" until its demise 230 years later.

For over four hundred years, from the second year of Yongle in Ming (1404) to the fifth year of Tongzhi in Qing (1866), Ryukyu was profoundly influenced by Chinese culture, with Chinese as its official language. After the thirty-six Fujianese families arrived in Ryukyu, they received great respect from the royal court down to the common people. The Ryukyuan king not only "bestowed surnames upon his ministers," adopting Chinese names, but later expanded this practice from the nobility to commoners, while ordering all major clans to compile genealogies. From then on, every Ryukyuan family could clearly trace its lineage, rank, and seniority like Chinese clans, helping Ryukyuans revere their ancestors and trace their roots, gradually guiding Ryukyu to develop into a "Land of Propriety." The "thirty-six Fujianese families" in Ryukyu were mainly responsible for navigation, shipbuilding, drafting diplomatic documents, translation, and trade with China. Their descendants maintained a dominant position in Ryukyu with their Mandarin ability and Confucian learning, mostly entrusted with important responsibilities, participating in major national political, economic, and cultural activities, and enjoying high official positions for generations—some even rising to the position of Prime Minister, such as the famous Prime Minister Sai On. Kume Village, whose name means "eternally enjoying salary," became the center for transmitting Chinese culture and advanced production techniques to Ryukyu.

As China's only port trading with Ryukyu, Fujian bore an important mission in Sino-Ryukyuan exchanges. Many Chinese folk customs brought by the thirty-six Fujianese families, such as the Qingming Festival, turtle-shell tombs, and "Taishan Shigandang" stone tablets, though tempered over centuries, still bear striking similarities to those in China's Fujian region today. It can be said that Ryukyuans first came into contact with Fujian, and through it came to know China.

Since the thirty-six Fujianese families arrived in Ryukyu in early Ming, the Fujianese have always observed ancestral worship during Qingming. To this day, tens of thousands of Ryukyuans collectively visit graves on the two Sundays around April 5th each year, with celebrations no less grand than in China. Besides Qingming, Ryukyuan customs such as the Dragon Boat races on May 5th, the Rice Festival in June, and ancestral worship during the Mid-Autumn Festival on July 15th are all similar to customs in Guangdong, Guangxi, and Fujian.

Ryukyuan tombs are built with stone on three sides, "shaped like a half-moon, raised at the back and sloping forward," resembling a turtle shell, hence called "turtle-shell tombs." This style of tomb can be seen everywhere in southern Fujian, China, and is one of the typical items indicating the close connection between Ryukyu and southern China. "Taishan Shigandang" was once a widespread folk spirit-stone worship phenomenon in China. In rural northern Fujian, people believed Mount Tai to be the source of righteous energy in the world, while crossroads and three-way intersections were prone to evil spirits. Therefore, people customarily erected stone tablets inscribed with "Shigandang" or "Taishan Shigandang" at house entrances facing such locations to suppress evil spirits. Japan's Shigandang belief originated in the Tang Dynasty and was introduced to Ryukyu in the 14th-15th centuries, then spread from the main island to the villages below. On Ryukyuan streets, especially at T-intersections, one can often see stone tablets inscribed with "Shigandang" or "Taishan Shigandang" used to ward off evil. In the mid-Ming period, Chinese feng shui was introduced to Ryukyu, and Shigandang is a clear example of its influence. With changes in architectural styles, Shigandang has become rare in China, but it has been well preserved in Ryukyu. To this day, when Ryukyuans build new houses or roads, if they encounter a T-intersection, they still erect Shigandang to ward off evil spirits.

The Ming and Qing periods were the golden age of Chinese architectural culture. Deeply influenced by Ming-Qing architectural culture, especially that of southern China, Ryukyu's garden architecture such as Shuri Castle, Fukushū-en Garden, and stone lions all retain a strong Chinese architectural legacy, especially that of Fujian. Shuri Castle, located east of Naha, the capital of Okinawa Prefecture, was once the capital of the Ryukyu Kingdom. "The walls of Shuri Castle not only adopted the Fujian traditional architectural technique of 'brick-and-stone layering,' but even some of the stone materials were directly transported from Fujian." On the slope leading to Shuri Castle, the Shureimon Gate with its plaque reading "Land of Propriety" is particularly eye-catching. Inside Shuri Castle, plaques such as "Eternal Land of Chūzan" are displayed, and the pillars in front of the main hall are carved with four-clawed dragon images. This is evidence of the Ryukyu Kingdom's status as a Chinese vassal state, as only imperial Chinese garden architecture could feature five-clawed dragon carvings. Even more interestingly, the main hall of Shuri Castle does not face south but west, mainly because China, Ryukyu's suzerain, was located to Ryukyu's west. All of this reflects the Ryukyu Kingdom's submission to China and its admiration for Chinese culture.

Throughout Ryukyuan history, the island where Fujianese Chinese lived was called "Tang Camp" (唐營), and the martial arts they brought from China were called "Tang Hand" (唐手). Tang Hand spread from Ryukyu to mainland Japan, directly giving birth to Japanese "Karate." Many Kume residents, in addition to Japanese names, particularly those with strong Chinese sentiments, still give their children Chinese names despite government opposition, to remember their Chinese ancestors. Kume Village remains the most concentrated settlement of Chinese culture in Ryukyu today, hosting annual Confucius worship ceremonies.

Over centuries of development, although Ryukyuan culture has undergone many changes, it has preserved numerous elements of Chinese culture, especially southern Chinese culture, in customs, architecture, language, and many other aspects. These preserved cultural elements are the best historical witnesses to Sino-Ryukyuan cultural exchange.

The Ryukyu Kingdom was always an independent trading nation, and its geographic location made it a trade hub between China, Japan, and Southeast Asia. The force that transformed Ryukyu into a trading kingdom came from China, not Japan. During the Ming and Qing periods, Sino-Ryukyuan trade activities included, in form, tributary trade and private trade, with tributary trade further divided into investiture trade and tribute trade. In nature, it was divided into official trade and private trade. Private trade was further divided into legal and illegal types. Any private trade conducted within government-permitted scope during investiture or tribute missions was legal; all other private trade was illegal. Trade between the Ming government and Ryukyu was typical official tributary trade. Official tributary trade, which developed in China from the Han Dynasty, was based on an ideology of Chinese economic superiority, requiring countries surrounding China to pay homage to the emperor, in return for which they received generous gifts. Tributary states were granted the privilege of trading at certain ports. Some goods were transported to individual countries in East and Southeast Asia, sold or distributed to political allies. At the official level of interstate interaction, tributary trade was the official commercial means.

In tributary trade, all mission members received generous gifts of gold, silver, porcelain, and silk. Besides the mission members who went to the capital for tribute, large numbers of Ryukyuan attendants stayed at the "Ryukyu Hall" in Fujian. Since Sino-Ryukyuan trade was mainly for the Ming government to politically "cherish distant peoples" and establish suzerain status rather than to seek economic profit, the Ming government purchased at high prices the "tribute goods" (actually Ryukyuan merchandise) brought by these people. Official tribute items were traditionally not priced. This trade had a strong political character and also created great economic pressure on the Ming government.

Ming Dynasty maritime policy was generally conservative, though it varied in strictness. From 1371 to 1394, the Ming government issued the "not a single plank may enter the sea" prohibition four consecutive times. This marked the beginning of the Ming government's "maritime prohibition system," but while implementing the maritime ban, Ming allowed and encouraged tributary trade from vassal states. The Ming government hoped to monopolize foreign trade through tributary trade that combined investiture with commerce, thus gaining government revenue and vassal tribute submissions while achieving the goals of suppressing merchants and controlling the people to maintain order—truly killing two birds with one stone.

The maritime prohibition policy did not allow private maritime trade, and the Ming government had strict regulations on tribute periods for vassal states; obtaining needed goods through tribute alone was quite limited. Under these conditions, the Ryukyu Kingdom saw the business opportunity for trade with Southeast Asian countries. It then petitioned the Ming government, citing its small size and weakness and lack of ships for tribute. With China's help in granting people, ships, and favorable tribute terms, Ryukyu quickly built trade bridges with Southeast Asian countries and eventually became the "Bridge of Nations."

Ryukyu was always able to exchange "tribute horses and local products" for generous rewards, and its surplus goods beyond tribute were allowed to be sold at the guesthouses. After completing tribute in the capital, Ryukyuan envoys would go to Fuzhou to return by ship. The returning ships carried both imperial gifts and large quantities of porcelain and silk secretly purchased by mission members in Fujian and Zhejiang. The silver from selling their own goods and the Chinese merchandise they carried became Ryukyu's foundation for trading with Southeast Asian countries to the south.

Ryukyu's trade with Southeast Asia had many prerequisites, mainly depending on the state of Ming government maritime policy. Ryukyu seized the opportunity of tributary trade precisely when the maritime ban was strictly enforced, Chinese merchants had declined, and vassal states wanted Chinese goods but were not permitted frequent tribute. It quickly began and gradually expanded trade with Southeast Asian countries, launching its own "Age of Great Navigation" in 1425.

The basic route of Ryukyu's trade with Southeast Asia was: departing from Naha Port on the northeast monsoon in August-September each year, traveling along the Fujian and Guangdong coasts to Annan (today's Vietnam) and Siam (today's Thailand), then branching into two routes. One continued westward along southern Siam, sailing southwest via Patani (today's southern Thailand) to Malacca, quickly completing trade business, then riding the southwest monsoon in March-April of the following year to travel north via Sumatra, Palembang (today's Indonesian port), Java, then returning to Ryukyu via Sulu and Luzon. The other route went directly south to Java, completed trade business, then returned to Ryukyu northward along the Luzon-Sulu line. These two routes together constituted the "Ryukyu Network" of that era.

Through over a century and a half of trade with Southeast Asia, Ryukyu gradually deepened its understanding of Southeast Asian countries' customs and conditions through maritime practice. This was reflected in Ryukyu's "one ship, two uses" approach of sending missions to two countries simultaneously: to Annan primarily with royal decorative items plus 20,000 jin of pig iron; to Siam primarily with daily utensils like folding fans and porcelain. Ryukyuans always observed the local laws and customs of trading countries. Even when Ryukyuans caused "fighting incidents" during trade with Malacca in the Chenghua era, the Ryukyuan king quickly dealt with the relevant personnel after the ship returned, formally apologized in diplomatic correspondence, and proposed: "If our envoys commit improprieties in the future, please inform us for punishment, so that neither side is disappointed and our alliance may last forever." This self-disciplined principle of keeping one's place was also an important reason for Ryukyu's continued relations with Southeast Asian countries.

As Ryukyu expanded its interactions with Southeast Asian countries, it gradually formed a fixed route: Ryukyu Islands—Malay Peninsula—Strait of Malacca—Sumatra—Java—Philippine Islands—Ryukyu Islands. This was both the result of Ryukyu's century and a half of trade practice and the driving force for its continued maritime trade development. However, this transit or intermediary trade was an abnormal trade form under specific conditions, an unsustainable trade method built on the unequal exchange of tributary trade between Ming and Ryukyu. The prerequisite for Ryukyu's trade with Southeast Asian countries was obtaining large quantities of Chinese goods popular in those regions, and this prerequisite was greatly affected by Ming government maritime policy. The later decline of Ryukyu's transit trade confirmed this: once the maritime ban was lifted, Chinese merchants' influence in Southeast Asia would resurge, and Ryukyu could not compete equally with Chinese merchants in either commodity prices or supply channels. Additionally, Portugal's occupation of Malacca in 1511 would also create enormous pressure on Ryukyuan merchant ships heading south. Therefore, the Ryukyu trade network was an unstable product of a specific period.

The exchange between Ryukyu and Southeast Asia brought great influence to both regions, especially Ryukyu, and Ryukyu's reputation as the "Bridge of Nations" came from this. Unfortunately, Ryukyu did not see the crisis within its prosperous trade. Under the dual competitive pressure from Westerners and Chinese merchants, Ryukyu's previous practice of gaining large profits through transit alone was obviously no longer viable. At this time, Ryukyu did not invest transit trade profits into learning and improving product crafts—such as introducing Chinese porcelain technology to manufacture porcelain products with Ryukyuan characteristics, or learning lacquerware crafts from neighboring Japan. Commercial wealth, entirely controlled by the royal family, was used for building temples and palaces and importing Buddhist scriptures, without deep understanding of its dependence on and vulnerability of transit trade. Thus, with depleted financial resources, national strength gradually declined, becoming an important cause for Ryukyu's troubled fate thereafter.

On June 8, 1582, Kamei Korenori (1557-1612), lord of Shikano Castle in Inaba Province (today's eastern Tottori Prefecture), seeing that his master Toyotomi Hideyoshi was about to unify Japan, requested that his master grant him Ryukyu. Toyotomi Hideyoshi was noncommittal. This shows that Japanese had already coveted Ryukyu at that time. In 1587, the Shimazu clan of Satsuma Domain suffered Toyotomi Hideyoshi's subjugation campaign, facing a regime crisis, and was forced to submit under great pressure. Under these circumstances, preventing Kamei from assuming the position of "Governor of Ryukyu" became the Shimazu regime's urgent priority. In 1589, an envoy of King Shō Nei of Ryukyu came to Tōan at Tenryū-ji Temple in Japan to meet Toyotomi Hideyoshi, outwardly making a gesture of Ryukyuan submission to the Toyotomi clan. In 1592, Toyotomi Hideyoshi issued vermilion seal letters to Shimazu Yoshihiro and Shimazu Yoshihisa, deciding to make Ryukyu a "yoriki" (auxiliary warriors) of the Shimazu clan. This "yoriki" appointment became the so-called basis for Shimazu Yoshihisa's demand in February 1604 that King Shō Nei acknowledge Ryukyu as Satsuma's "vassal."

In the winter of 1602, a Ryukyuan ship drifted to Mutsu Province (today's Aomori, Iwate, Miyagi, Fukushima prefectures and part of Akita). The following spring, Tokugawa Ieyasu ordered his subordinates to return the ship's crew to Ryukyu, but used this as a reason to demand that Ryukyu send a mission of thanks to Japan. This was considered an offense to the Ming central government, as the intent was extremely obvious: "To instigate Ryukyu to help Japan negotiate peace with the Ming government, Ryukyu must first be made to submit to Japan."

In 1609, with permission from the Tokugawa shogunate, Shimazu Iehisa brazenly invaded Ryukyu. A descendant of the Zheng family, one of the "thirty-six Fujianese families," led his entire clan in resistance but was defeated and captured. The Japanese cruelly executed the Zheng patriarch by boiling in oil; as he died, he pulled two Japanese guards into the oil cauldron with him. This event spread throughout Ryukyu, and Ryukyu changed its national emblem because of it. Today, "the center of Ryukyu's national emblem is a red circle with three black C's inside, symbolizing the scene of three people being boiled to death in an oil cauldron," also expressing Ryukyuans' commemoration of the Zheng family. Shuri Castle, the Ryukyuan capital, fell. Satsuma's invasion of Ryukyu changed the equal status between Japan and Ryukyu from then on; this invasion placed Ryukyu under Japanese rule. Japanese troops pillaged and burned the occupied Ryukyu Kingdom, and the wealth Ryukyu had accumulated through foreign trade over the years was completely looted. Since China was enforcing a maritime ban against Japan at this time, normal trade between China and Japan was impossible. To obtain greater trade profits, Japan decided to use Ryukyu's special relationship with China for trade, and thus the originally independent Ryukyu-China trade was secretly controlled by Japan.

In 1610, Shimazu Iehisa coerced Shō Nei to pay homage to the Edo shogunate. The second shogun, Tokugawa Hidetada, ordered Shō Nei to "grant Ryukyu's tribute taxes to Iehisa." The reason for not abolishing the King of Chūzan was that the Tokugawa regime wanted to use Ryukyu to conduct peace negotiations with Ming. To smoothly complete peace negotiations, Japan at that time had to acknowledge the suzerain-vassal relationship between Ryukyu and the Ming government. But while outwardly showing goodwill to Ming, Satsuma, under shogunate direction, also issued ruling decrees represented by the "Fifteen Articles," attempting to incorporate Ryukyu into the bakuhan system.

In 1634, the third Tokugawa shogun Iemitsu issued a fief and stipend edict to the Shimazu clan, generously rewarding them and intending to "Japanize" the Ryukyu issue. Satsuma changed the Shō clan's title from "King of Chūzan" to "Ryukyu Kokushi" (Governor of Ryukyu). The title "Ryukyu Kokushi" first appeared in a letter written by Shimazu Iehisa to the Spanish colonial governor of Luzon in 1615. At that time, Japan fabricated the nonexistent title "Ryukyu Kokushi" to "conveniently explain to the Spanish side Ryukyu's international status as a vassal state of Satsuma." Cunning Japanese politicians wanted to use the strategy of ambiguous "translation" to achieve their political goal of annexing Ryukyu; this title also intended to incorporate Ryukyu into the "King—Lord—Governor" bakuhan system structure.

With the Ming-Qing regime transition, the positioning of Japan-Ryukyu relations also quietly changed. In 1633, when Ryukyu received Ming investiture envoys, Satsuma boldly speculated that "the Ming government must have tacitly acknowledged Japan's control over Ryukyu, so we can consider presenting some gifts to the Ming investiture envoys (as thanks)." But by 1683, when Qing investiture envoys crossed to Ryukyu, "Satsuma officials claimed to be from Treasure Island (Ryukyu), hiding their Japanese identity when dealing with the investiture envoys." This was because the Japanese feared friction with Qing over control of Ryukyu and adopted the tactic of concealing their identity. The "Regulations for Travelers" policy formulated by the Ryukyu royal government in 1753 also mentioned that if Japanese were seen by Qing nationals within Ryukyu, Japanese were allowed to claim to be Ryukyuans from Treasure Island. Even until the end of the Tokugawa era, Japanese could often be seen using this tactic. However, in 1848, when Western ships frequently visited Japan, the Japanese "Guidelines for Answering Foreigners" showed a different response pattern: "When Yamato ships are questioned by other ships (Western ships), they should answer that they are Japanese Treasure Island ships." This shows that during the transition from early modern to modern times, on issues involving Ryukyu, Japan adopted asymmetric approaches when dealing with China and the West—first to let the Qing central government lower its guard; second to prove to the West that Japan possessed sovereignty over Ryukyu.

In 1853, Commodore Matthew Perry of the U.S. Pacific Fleet led four "Black Ships" to forcibly open Japan's doors, causing enormous shock to Japan under Tokugawa rule. To guard against Perry making an issue of Ryukyu, Senior Councilor Abe Masahiro compiled a Q&A collection titled "General Ideas for Handling the Ryukyu Issue." From this time, the Japanese began worrying that Western powers might intervene in Ryukyu's Sino-Japanese "dual affiliation" status.

In 1854, Perry signed the Treaty of Kanagawa with Japan at Uraga Port on mainland Japan, and the Treaty of Amity with Ryukyu in Naha, Okinawa. In form and content, the former "used Japanese-English bilingual text with Western calendar and Japanese era names," was "a treaty between nations (The Treaty of Peace and Amity)," and was "bilateral obligation" type; the latter "used Chinese-English bilingual text with Western calendar and Qing era names," "was not an equal 'agreement' or 'compact' (Articles of Agreement)," and was "unilateral obligation" type. On this issue, rather than saying Ryukyu belonged to Japan, it would be more accurate to say Ryukyu should originally have been China's vassal state. Subsequent actions by some great powers confirmed this—France in 1855 and the Netherlands in 1859 both used "Chinese-English bilingual text with Western calendar and Qing era names" to sign treaties with Ryukyu.

At this time, the Qing Empire, severely damaged in two Opium Wars, had lost initiative in politics, economy, military, diplomacy, and security, and with frequent internal rebellions had no time to attend to border affairs, giving Japan an opportunity. In 1871, Japan implemented the abolition of domains and establishment of prefectures nationwide, treating Ryukyu as a ryōseikoku (administrative district) under Kagoshima Prefecture's management. In November of that year, ships from Miyako Island and other outer Ryukyuan islands heading to Shuri royal court to submit annual tribute encountered a typhoon on their return voyage. One ship drifted to Bayao Bay (today's Manzhou Township, Pingtung County) at Taiwan's southern tip; the crew who went ashore were attacked by Taiwan aborigines, 54 were killed, and another 12 escaped and were sent by Han Chinese residents to Fengshan County, then by the county magistrate to Fuzhou's Rouyan Station for settlement. In May 1873, Japanese Foreign Minister Soejima Taneomi came to China to bring up this old matter, protesting to the Qing government over the "Bayao Bay Incident" and demanding compensation. The Qing government, having already given relief to the Ryukyuans, refused compensation. Under questioning by the Japanese envoy, Zongli Yamen Minister Mao Changxi surprisingly said: "The killers were all raw savages, temporarily placed beyond civilization, and inconvenient to prosecute thoroughly." Japan seized on this: since the Qing government acknowledged that Taiwan's eastern aborigines were "raw savages," they were not subjects under Qing jurisdiction; since it was "inconvenient to prosecute thoroughly," it was not a place governed by Qing. Therefore, Japan sending troops to punish "raw savages" would not constitute aggression against China. This provided a pretext for Japan's later invasion of Taiwan.

In May 1872, Meiji government elder Inoue Kaoru submitted a memorial titled "On the Disposition of Ryukyu" to the government, recommending further clarification of Ryukyu's status. Thereafter, Inoue coerced the Ryukyuan king to Tokyo and demanded that Ryukyu quickly align with Japanese mainland systems regarding administrative divisions and tax contributions. In handling Ryukyu, the Meiji government not only skillfully used "The Law of Nations"—the colonialist rules representing the new international order of that time—but also skillfully utilized the "investiture system" under the concept of "Chinese-barbarian order," choosing the route of "vassalization." It first made Ryukyu appear in a "dual affiliation" state, having King Shō Tai receive investiture from both China and Japan. After controversy arose, it gradually stripped away sovereignty through its own powerful strength. In June of the same year, the Japanese government unilaterally announced the abolition of the Ryukyu Kingdom, renamed it Ryukyu Domain, and enfeoffed Shō Tai as Domain King of Ryukyu. The establishment of "Ryukyu Domain," called by the Japanese the "First Ryukyu Disposition," was both a test by the Japanese government to implement its foreign expansion policy and its first step toward devouring Asia. It was precisely with the success of this first step that Japan's subsequent invasion of Taiwan, military campaign against Korea, and First Sino-Japanese War followed.

The Qing government's "beyond civilization" theory encouraged domestic Japanese calls to "conquer Taiwan." After the "Bayao Bay Incident," Ōyama Tsunayoshi, councillor of Kagoshima Prefecture, proposed the "Theory of Taiwan Subjugation," requesting that the Meiji government send troops to Taiwan to punish the "raw savages." In May 1874, the Japanese government appointed Army Lieutenant General Saigō Tsugumichi as Taiwan Affairs Governor, leading 3,658 troops to Taiwan, applying pressure on the Qing government in the name of "punishing murderers" and testing the Qing government's concern for Taiwan and Ryukyu. Eager to end the conflict, the Qing government, in the Beijing Treaty signed on October 31, acknowledged that "Japan's actions this time were originally undertaken to protect its people as a righteous act, which China does not consider wrong." Meanwhile, China also obtained Japan's promise that regarding Taiwan's raw savages, "China itself will devise ways to properly restrain them." Acknowledging Japan's "righteous act to protect its people" actually acknowledged that Ryukyuans were under Japanese management. To protect Taiwan, the Qing government began acknowledging Ryukyu's "dual affiliation" status, meaning the Qing government no longer firmly maintained the suzerain-vassal relationship but intentionally weakened its suzerainty over Ryukyu.

After the Beijing Treaty was signed, Japan accelerated its annexation of Ryukyu. In May 1875, Japanese troops invaded Ryukyu for colonial rule, preventing Ryukyu from paying tribute to China and blocking congratulations for the Guangxu Emperor's enthronement ceremony. While Japan continuously implemented its occupation plans, the Ryukyu Kingdom repeatedly sent people to China for help. In October 1876, the Ryukyuan king secretly sent Shō Tokuhiro and others to China by ship, beginning a long movement to save the nation. The following year, after Shō Tokuhiro's group arrived in Fuzhou, they submitted King Shō Tai's petition to Fujian-Zhejiang Governor-General He Jing and Fujian Governor Ding Richang, reporting Japan's attempt to annex Ryukyu to the Qing court. He and Ding immediately reported this to the court and recommended that He Ruzhang, about to be sent to Japan, directly negotiate with Japan. However, at this time, Yakub Beg was invading China's Xinjiang in the northwest, and the court had no time to look east to Ryukyu. It merely ordered He Ruzhang to be envoy to Japan, preparing to resolve the issue through diplomatic channels, but sent not a single soldier to Ryukyu. The Qing court issued an edict ordering the Ryukyuan officials who came to petition to return home first.

He Ruzhang was ordered to negotiate with Japan on the Ryukyu issue, arguing vigorously and hoping to preserve Ryukyu's independent status. On May 29, 1878, in a letter to Li Hongzhang, he expressed his views: first, from a geopolitical perspective, Ryukyu was very important to Korea and Taiwan; second, losing Ryukyu would endanger China's future border security. Therefore, he proposed that Ryukyu "must be contested." Li Hongzhang's attitude toward the Ryukyu issue in his reply to He Ruzhang appeared dismissive: "Ryukyuan tribute has no great benefit; if we contend with force over a small country's meager tribute, pursuing empty fame while devoting effort to distant strategy, we not only have no time for it but it would also be meaningless." He viewed the handling of the Ryukyu issue as merely fighting for tribute; in his view, Ryukyu was too far from China, and there was no need to compete with Japan over it.

Regarding responding to the Ryukyu crisis, He Ruzhang proposed three strategies to the Zongli Yamen: the upper strategy was to first send warships to question Ryukyu, demand its tribute, and show Japan that we must contest; the middle strategy was to state our case clearly, ally with Ryukyu and coordinate an attack, showing Japan that we must rescue; the lower strategy was to repeatedly debate, and if not heeded, either cite international law to censure or invite various countries' envoys to judge. Li Hongzhang believed that "sending warships to question and allying with Ryukyuans for certain rescue both seem like making a mountain out of a molehill, appearing alarmist." On one hand, Li Hongzhang was pressured by the "Qingliu faction"; on the other hand, he feared provoking Japan to use force. Therefore, he did not advocate a tough policy toward Japan, did not adopt He Ruzhang's upper and middle strategies, and only emphasized using the lower strategy. He believed the strategy toward Japan was "if words are not heeded, repeat them"—this would serve two purposes: Japan, "knowing its reasoning was inadequate," might not rush to abolish the domain and establish a prefecture, allowing Ryukyu to preserve itself; meanwhile, China would not need to send troops across the ocean. Li Hongzhang's opinion was ultimately adopted by the Zongli Yamen. Without full support from the Qing government, He Ruzhang still conducted negotiations in Japan.

On September 27, 1878, in a Sino-Japanese dialogue between He Ruzhang and Japanese Foreign Minister Terashima Munenori, Terashima stated: "Three hundred years ago we assumed the duty of governing Ryukyu. At that time we appointed Satsuma to oversee Ryukyu for the government. We sent our countrymen to Ryukyu to help them with politics, and correspondingly, Ryukyu also sent officials to our mainland to consult on various governmental operational methods... In any case, whoever levies taxes on a land is its administrator. This fact can be known from international law and other documents... Although historical records show Ryukyu as a vassal state, we should now judge from the perspective of actual governance. Historical records are beyond the reach of actual governance, so historical records are insufficient as evidence." The Meiji government used taxation as its "basis" for claiming sovereignty over Ryukyu under the banner of "The Law of Nations," going so far as to openly declare "historical records are insufficient as evidence." In that same dialogue, the Qing government once proposed inviting Western countries to intervene in this matter. Terashima became angry on the spot: "I say this entirely for your country's sake. For three thousand years, Ryukyu has been our possession, and we have also willingly let Ryukyu be your vassal state. Morally speaking, we have already given your country enough face," and so on. In fact, Terashima's concepts of "possession" and "vassal state" were confusing. A "vassal state" is basically a country with independent sovereignty, but the concept of "possession" is broader, even ambiguous, with possibly different interpretations in different contexts. For example, Terashima's "Ryukyu has always been our possession" could be interpreted as "Ryukyu has always been part of Japanese territory." In the dialogue, Terashima mixed and reversed these two concepts, leaving He Ruzhang, who did not understand colonialist logic and the so-called "Law of Nations," momentarily unsure how to respond, leading him to think that "possession" and "vassal state" were anyway "territory" concepts in "The Law of Nations," leaving no time for detailed consideration. In that special context, the Japanese "translation" strategy indeed played a huge role in promoting colonialist policies; even today, some Japanese legal scholars still use this logic and strategy to "respond" to China's rise.

The Japanese government of that time dominated the negotiating table on the Ryukyu attribution issue with such strategies. Thus, negotiations over Ryukyu attribution became a discourse game in which the Meiji government freely manipulated old and new rule concepts, and this game almost always ended with Japanese schemes succeeding. After several rounds of negotiation, Japan no longer acknowledged Ryukyu's "dual affiliation" but defined "jurisdiction" by whether taxes were levied on a region. Facing China's protest that "the people don't trust you; you cannot be the ruler," Japan retorted: "Just like your Yunnan, even if those natives don't submit to your rule, you have no reason to abandon them." Facing China's statement that "indeed, our dynasty has definite proof of enfeoffing kings and receiving tribute," Japan continued to argue: "For example, Siam once also paid tribute to your country, but Siam has now left you and no longer pays tribute. Moreover, your tribute and our taxation cannot be mentioned in the same breath." As long as Japan kept citing examples of how vague the "vassal state" concept in the Chinese civilization sphere was and how incomplete China's "jurisdiction" was, Japan could always "win" in debates. For another example, facing China's declaration that "Ryukyuan kings must receive investiture from our dynasty to qualify as King of Chūzan," Terashima continued to refute: "Previously, when Western European nobles wanted to become emperors, didn't they all go to Rome to receive investiture from the Pope? This is similar to your investiture. But having the right to invest does not mean you have the right to control, just as Rome could not control other European countries." Terashima completely denied the connection between "enfeoffing kings" and "legitimacy of rule" in the Chinese civilization sphere. However, Japan seemed to have forgotten that it had itself used investiture theory logic for diplomatic affairs in 1872 (Meiji 5); now it wanted to completely deny the theoretical logic of tributary investiture, presenting itself as a "thorough" member of the "Law of Nations Club."

Meanwhile, Li Hongzhang was undermining from behind, writing to the Zongli Yamen, criticizing He Ruzhang's actions as likely to cause Sino-Japanese conflict, believing He "though very brilliant, lacks experience in negotiations, and is somewhat too aggressive." In early 1879, Zuo Zongtang, in a memorial on the Ryukyu issue, believed that Ryukyu was economically poor and its products far inferior to Japan's; politically it dared not offend Japan because, with islands connected to Japan and geographic pressure, it had become a nephew-uncle relationship. The conclusion was that Japan's annexation of Ryukyu was expected, and China could ignore it. His memorial echoed Li Hongzhang's position.

Ryukyu hoped the Qing court would help restore its nation. Although the Qing court ordered Shō Tokuhiro and others to return, they insisted on staying in Fuzhou to wait, inadvertently waiting for three years. After Japan discovered the Qing court's true situation and learned it had no determination to go to war, on March 27, 1879 (Meiji 12), Matsuda Michiyuki, as Ryukyu Disposition Officer, led 160 police officers and a military force of 400 to forcibly seize Ryukyu, abolish Ryukyu Domain, and establish Okinawa Prefecture. At that time, Japanese troops "extensively plundered documents, cultural relics, and official seals exchanged between China and Ryukyu, as well as Ryukyuan government archives, including the original treaties of amity between Ryukyu and the United States and other countries, attempting to destroy and conceal historical evidence, dilute history, and forced King Shō Tai and others to relocate to Japan." This implementation of the domain abolition and prefecture establishment policy toward Ryukyu was also called by the Japanese the "Second Ryukyu Disposition."

The Ryukyu Kingdom urgently requested Qing government aid. The king first sent Mao Fengrai to seek help from He Ruzhang, China's minister to Japan, and also entrusted Fujian merchants going to Japan to carry secret letters to the Fujian governor. Shō Tokuhiro and others, still waiting for news in Fujian, upon hearing that the king had been captured and the country destroyed, deeply felt the crisis of national extinction was imminent and decided to bypass the Fujian-Zhejiang Governor-General and go directly north to petition for military aid. Shō Tokuhiro, along with Cai Dading and Lin Shigong—political activists of the late Second Shō Dynasty—shaved their heads, changed their clothes, disguised themselves as merchants, and rushed to Tianjin to see Li Hongzhang, directly stating Japan's ambitions and earnestly requesting the Qing government to send troops to save Ryukyu from fire and water. Cai Dading and Lin Shigong's group knelt for long periods outside the Donghua Gate, weeping and requesting Qing court aid when court ministers entered. The Zongli Yamen, fearing discussion pressure, reminded Li Hongzhang that abolishing Ryukyu concerned national dignity. In May, Li Hongzhang and others invited former U.S. President Ulysses S. Grant, then touring China, to mediate. Based on Grant's suggestions, Japan proposed the "Island Division and Treaty Revision Theory," designating "Ryukyu's Miyako and Yaeyama Islands near Taiwan as under Chinese jurisdiction to demarcate the two countries' borders." But the condition was revising the Sino-Japanese Treaty of Commerce, with Japan gaining free trade in China's interior and "most favored nation" benefits. The Qing Zongli Yamen proposed "tripartite division of Ryukyu" in negotiations (northern islands to Japan, central islands to restore Ryukyu, southern islands to China), but was rejected by Japan, and Qing's effort to "restore Ryukyu" failed. At this time, the Qing government was negotiating with Russia over the Ili issue, and fearing Japan-Russia collusion, was prepared to agree to Japan's demands. Facing negotiations on both eastern and western fronts, the Qing ruling group had different opinions on negotiating with Japan over Ryukyu. "Some advocated that the old Sino-Japanese treaty should not be changed and the Ryukyu case should not be immediately concluded, such as Right Vice Censor Chen Baochen; some advocated that the old Sino-Japanese treaty could be changed and the Ryukyu case could be concluded as discussed, such as Left Vice Censor Zhang Zhidong." Others "feared Japan might collude with Russia, making things even harder to handle." Opinions varied without consensus. On October 24, 1879, Ryukyuan liaison officer Mō Seichō and others came to the Beijing Zongli Yamen to "kneel for long periods, wailing and pleading with tears of blood," hoping the Qing government would rescue Ryukyu "in consideration of two hundred years of loyal vassal service." Yet the Ryukyuan envoys' desperate pleas for a year yielded no results. Lin Shigong, in extreme grief and indignation, decided to plead for troops with his death, hoping to obtain the Qing government's response to Ryukyu's petition, ultimately committing suicide by cutting his throat for his country.

Hanlin Academy Compiler Lu Tingfu memorialized, proposing to subdue Japan by force to eliminate future troubles. Lu Tingfu had already realized that Japan's aggressive foreign expansion was extremely harmful; if Japan was not effectively and quickly stopped and deterred, Korea would follow Ryukyu's fate, and China would not only be unable to protect its buffer vassal states but would also see its own territory greatly threatened. However, such radical views were not the dominant thinking at the time. Due to internal troubles and external threats, accumulated poverty and weakness, the Qing government had no time or energy to consider the Ryukyu issue. On November 11, 1880, Li Hongzhang memorialized that China could not and was unable to negotiate simultaneously with Russia and Japan; otherwise, it would certainly suffer another diplomatic loss. To counter external pressure, forces must be concentrated so that treaties concluded could avoid greater losses. He persuaded the court with his powerful analysis of the situation, rejecting the "preserve Ryukyu" plan. After Li Hongzhang proposed "delay in agreeing to treaty revision," Japanese negotiator Shishido Tamaki returned home in frustration, the Ryukyu issue was shelved, and the Qing government had no further word on "preserving Ryukyu." In fact, after Japan forced Korea to sign the Treaty of Ganghwa in 1876, the Qing government gradually shifted its attention from Ryukyu to the Korean issue, and the urgency of the Ryukyu issue took second place to Korea. China's suzerainty over Ryukyu existed only in name. The suzerain-vassal relationship was a symbol of the Qing Dynasty's control over the four quarters and display of great power bearing. The suzerain recognized a vassal state's king through investiture, morally assuming responsibility for protecting its security. Generally, the suzerain did not send troops to vassal states; vassal states called the suzerain the "Upper Court" and followed the suzerain's calendar. The Qing government's active weakening of suzerainty marked its abandonment of protecting Ryukyu.

The fall of the Ryukyu Kingdom was undoubtedly a devastating blow to the Ryukyuan people. In the former Ryukyu Kingdom territory, Ryukyuan remnants rose up everywhere, spontaneously organizing armed resistance. Ryukyuan aristocrat Mō Inryō and others organized the "Alliance Party," using extreme means to attack the Japanese occupiers of Ryukyu. Before Ryukyuans could recover from the grief of national destruction, Japanese rulers imprisoned the king, brutally suppressed anti-Japanese forces, established police stations, and monitored the people. To eliminate local resistance, Japanese rulers preserved the backward "concubine service" system that should have long exited the historical stage. Japan's cruel oppression and exploitation aroused Okinawan resistance. In 1893, villagers of Miyako Island launched the "Petition Movement to Abolish the Poll Tax." Soon, the "Okinawa Freedom and Popular Rights Movement" demanding democracy and civil rights also appeared. In 1894, Okinawa Governor Narahara Shigeru, citing "relief for impoverished samurai and industries," took the opportunity to propose developing Somayama. This was strongly opposed by local villagers, who jointly submitted a "Petition to Reject the Somayama Reclamation Permit" to the prefectural government. Jahana Noboru, then Okinawa Prefecture's chief of agricultural and forestry reclamation affairs, was responsible for handling this matter. Deeply influenced by freedom and popular rights ideology, Jahana expressed sympathy for the people's plight after receiving their petition. After on-site investigation, Jahana firmly opposed government development of Somayama, greatly displeasing the Okinawa governor. In 1898, Jahana was forced to resign. The following year, Jahana organized the "Okinawa Club" and "criticized prefectural administration" in his self-published journal "Okinawa Times," calling for "land system reform" and "obtaining suffrage," demanding freedom and popular rights. However, under violent suppression and high pressure from the Japanese government, the Okinawa Freedom and Popular Rights Movement ultimately failed. Jahana was later arrested by Japanese occupiers and died miserably in prison. This movement was ultimately bloodily suppressed by Japanese rulers and ended in failure.

With China's defeat in the First Sino-Japanese War, the Qing Dynasty was unable to raise objections to Japan over the Ryukyu issue, Japan's annexation of Ryukyu became final, and Ryukyuans' hopes for national restoration were dashed. Japan's annexation of Ryukyu put the Qing government in a situation of being attacked on all sides. The Qing government had originally mainly dealt with powerful enemies from the west and north; now it had added an eastern opponent. The Qing ruling group felt unprecedented pressure after losing Ryukyu; their feelings must have been extremely complex.

After the outbreak of the War of Resistance Against Japan, in April 1938, Chiang Kai-shek stated at the Kuomintang's Extraordinary National Congress: "Since the Meiji Restoration, Japan has long had a consistent plan for continental aggression. In the past Sino-Japanese War, it occupied our Taiwan and Ryukyu; after the Russo-Japanese War, it annexed Korea, seized our Lüshun and Dalian, completing the first step of its continental policy..." This was the first clear statement by the highest authority of the Nationalist government on the Ryukyu issue, actually reflecting the aspirations of the Chinese people to recover Ryukyu and wash away the national humiliation of the past century.

Before World War II ended, the Republic of China government had many internal disagreements on how to handle Ryukyu's future, with vacillating and contradictory attitudes on the Ryukyu issue. On January 29, 1942, the ROC Ministry of Foreign Affairs drafted a "Revised Draft of Basic Principles for Resolving Sino-Japanese Issues." The fourth clause of "Principles on Territorial Provisions" in this draft stated: Ryukyu shall be assigned to Japan, but subject to the following two restrictions: (1) No fortifications shall be established, and supervision shall be conducted by a subcommittee of the arms reduction conference; (2) There shall be no discriminatory treatment of Ryukyuan people, and all matters shall be handled according to principles for minority issues. This was the first statement by ROC government officials on Ryukyu's status. However, based on the historical sentiment of traditional Sino-Ryukyuan relations, Chinese domestic opinion was dissatisfied with the government's attitude, and calls to recover Ryukyu grew increasingly loud. Under domestic pressure, on November 3, Foreign Minister T.V. Soong told Chinese and foreign reporters that "after the war ends, China will recover Manchuria, Formosa (Taiwan), and the Ryukyu Islands, and Korea will also gain independence." This was the first formal statement by the Chinese government that China wanted to "recover Ryukyu" after the war, thus opening the curtain on China's demand to recover "Ryukyu."

At 8 PM on November 23, 1943, when Roosevelt and Chiang Kai-shek discussed important postwar matters in Cairo, the Ryukyu issue was mentioned. According to the ROC government's memorandum, Roosevelt took the initiative to mention the Ryukyu Islands, "repeatedly asking whether China wanted the Ryukyu Islands." Chiang Kai-shek replied: "China is willing to jointly occupy the Ryukyu Islands with the United States, ultimately under trusteeship of an international organization with joint management by both countries." Chiang advocated "Sino-American joint management" of Ryukyu, believing that under the premise that China was unable to trustee alone, Sino-American joint trusteeship was the most reasonable proposal at the time.

After the "Chiang-Roosevelt Talks," Chiang Kai-shek acknowledged that he had taken the initiative to propose joint management of Ryukyu with the United States: "The four northeastern provinces and Taiwan with the Penghu Islands should all be returned to China, but Ryukyu can be entrusted to international organization for Sino-American joint management—this was proposed by me." Chiang Kai-shek recorded the reasons for this proposal, mainly based on three considerations: first, to put the Americans at ease; second, Ryukyu had already belonged to Japan before the First Sino-Japanese War; third, having this area jointly managed by the United States was better than having it exclusively ours. Chiang Kai-shek's consideration of Ryukyu's attribution was not a hasty response. Before going to Cairo, he recorded in his diary on November 15, 1943: Ryukyu's historical position in our country differs from Taiwan's, and as Ryukyu was a kingdom, its status was equal to Korea's, so this proposal decided not to raise the Ryukyu issue, while the Siam independence issue should be raised by us. The background of Chiang Kai-shek's proposal to Roosevelt for Sino-American joint management of Ryukyu at the Cairo Conference was quite complex, "with moral factors, power factors, and strategic considerations all playing a role."

On November 27, 1943, the day of the Cairo Conference, Chiang Kai-shek, U.S. President Roosevelt, and British Prime Minister Churchill jointly issued the Cairo Declaration in Cairo, clearly stating: "Japan shall be stripped of all the islands in the Pacific which she has seized or occupied since the beginning of the First World War in 1914, and that all the territories Japan has stolen from the Chinese, such as Manchuria, Formosa, and the Pescadores, shall be restored to the Republic of China." However, the positions of China, the United States, and Britain on the Ryukyu issue were not included, nor was Ryukyu's future status mentioned in the subsequent Yalta Agreement or Potsdam Proclamation. However, Article 8 of the Potsdam Proclamation stipulated: "The terms of the Cairo Declaration shall be carried out and Japanese sovereignty shall be limited to the islands of Honshu, Hokkaido, Kyushu, Shikoku and such minor islands as we determine."

At a White House meeting on January 12, 1944, Roosevelt, recalling his conversation with Stalin, said that Stalin had also indicated "he was very familiar with Ryukyu's history, he completely agreed that Ryukyu belonged to China and should be returned to China, and that administrative authority over all islands under Japanese control should go to the United Nations." This shows that the Soviet leader at the time also recognized Ryukyu's return to China. However, at the Tehran Conference, Stalin made no relevant statement on this. From the above, based on wartime Allied opinions, Ryukyu should be separated from Japan after the war; even if not handed over to Chinese management, it should be jointly trusteed by China and the United States, with its ultimate direction being independence or autonomy.

From when the Pacific War was still ongoing until the major shift in policy toward Japan in 1948, various departments of the U.S. government had been conducting in-depth and extensive research on postwar disposition of Okinawa, proposing various plans and opinions. However, national-level policy toward Okinawa remained in intense discussion and flux. Among them, the military represented by the Army Department, Navy Department, and Joint Chiefs of Staff, from a military strategic perspective, had requirements for Okinawa ranging from the most radical U.S. possession to "strategic trusteeship" to "general trusteeship"—in summary, hoping to separate Okinawa from the Japanese mainland, achieve U.S. military occupation, and make it the most important U.S. military base in the Far East. In contrast, the State Department (represented by the Far East Bureau), from political and diplomatic perspectives, hoped to return it to Japan after completing demilitarization and democratization of the region. The opposition between the two sides kept U.S. policy toward Okinawa long undecided. This situation allowed the military responsible for actual occupation to basically implement rule according to its own views. During this period, on January 29, 1946, the United States, through Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers Directive No. 677, achieved the separation of the Amami, Okinawa, Miyako, Yaeyama, and other island groups from the Japanese mainland.

Saturday, December 27

Beep Beep Beep: QQ and a Generation's Digital Youth (A Side Story to 'From BBS to Digital Cocoon')

 


Opening: September 15, 2018 - A Collective Farewell


At 5 PM on September 15, 2018, a seemingly trivial yet profoundly significant event occurred on China's internet—QQ Pet officially ceased service. Behind Tencent's cold announcement, millions of users flooded QQ Zone and Weibo with farewell posts of all kinds:


"I used to find it annoying, now it's really leaving."


"I never got to see her get married, and I've had the diamond ring ready for so long."


"My QQ Pet married my first love's QQ Pet in the game, even though we haven't contacted each other for seven years."


These seemingly childish messages were actually a generation's formal farewell to their youth. That virtual penguin that once needed daily feeding, bathing, working, marrying, and laying eggs—that digital pet you might have raised for over a decade, that accompanied you through middle school, high school, and college—finally died quietly in some corner of a server.


This was not an isolated case. In 2016, Renren was sold; in 2019, QQ Mail's Drift Bottle closed; in 2023, Tianya Community became inaccessible due to unpaid fees; in 2025, QQ Short Video announced its shutdown. China's internet archaeological site is littered with digital ruins that once carried the youthful memories of hundreds of millions.


Yet above these ruins, a green penguin still breathes stubbornly. It's called QQ—a digital empire born in 1999 that has accompanied China's internet for a full quarter century. It's not just an instant messaging software, but a digital archive for 800 million Chinese netizens—housing the scarce glory of five-digit QQ numbers, the secret language of "invisible to all except you" crushes, the nationwide frenzy of midnight vegetable stealing, the rise and fall of Shamate families, and countless youth secrets you may have forgotten but the servers will always remember.


This is a history omitted from mainstream internet chronicles. This is a memory that must be measured by emotion rather than data.


Act One: The Technological Revolution of the Internet Cafe Era (1999-2003)


Scene Recreation: Year 2000, an Internet Cafe in a Chinese Third-Tier City


2 AM, smoke-filled air. Rows of yellowing CRT monitors flickered with dim light. A dozen teenagers sat on hard plastic chairs, staring at the bottom right corner of their screens—a green penguin icon wearing a red scarf suddenly jumped, emitting a "di-di-di" notification sound.


"Holy shit, she's online!"


That was the second year after QQ's birth. In that era when mobile internet was still science fiction and most families didn't even have computers, internet cafes were the only window for young Chinese to access the internet. And in this window, there was a fatal problem plaguing all users of instant messaging software: every time you switched computers, your friend list disappeared.


This was ICQ's design flaw—it stored user data locally on the client. For American users with personal computers, this wasn't a problem. But for Chinese internet cafe users who accessed the web from different locations, it meant having to re-add friends every time, starting from zero each session.


Tencent's five founders keenly captured this demand gap. On February 10, 1999, OICQ (QQ's predecessor) was officially released. Its core innovation was extremely simple yet precisely hit the social reality of China's internet: storing friend lists on the server side. No matter which computer you logged in from, no matter which internet cafe you surfed the web at, your social relationship chain always followed you.


This seemingly minor technical adjustment created a miracle in the following nine months—OICQ's registered users exploded from zero to 1 million. In a shabby office in Shenzhen's Huaqiangbei, Ma Huateng and Zhang Zhidong stared at the wildly growing user curve with no joy on their faces, only anxiety. Because each additional user meant increased server costs and bandwidth pressure.


It was an absurd era when "having too many users became a burden." Tencent even once tried to sell OICQ to Guangzhou Telecom for 600,000 yuan, but the deal fell through because they thought it was too expensive. History's irony lies in this: if that transaction had succeeded, there might be no Tencent empire today, and no digital youth archive for these 800 million people.


Trademark Dispute and Brand Rebirth


However, misfortune soon struck. On February 7, 2000, America Online (AOL)—then the hegemon of the global internet—officially filed a domain arbitration lawsuit against Tencent, accusing "OICQ" of infringing on its ICQ trademark.


On March 21, 2000, the verdict from the National Arbitration Forum was cold and cruel: Tencent's registered domains oicq.com and oicq.net were registered with "bad faith" and must be transferred to AOL. In the verdict, the arbitrator even pointed out that Tencent's attempt to register "0icq.com" (replacing the letter O with the number 0) constituted ironclad evidence of malicious registration.


This was Tencent's first life-or-death crisis. But Ma Huateng's team demonstrated remarkable adaptability. In November 2000, Tencent officially announced the rebranding to "QQ." This name came from the homophone of the English word "Cute," the reduplication was catchy, and most importantly—it was simple enough and Chinese enough.


Along with the renaming, the little penguin wearing a red scarf officially became the mascot. The establishment of this image was no accident. After testing various icons including pagers and telephones, Tencent found that the penguin best dissolved technology's coldness—it was adorable and harmless, like both a pet and a friend.


A legal defeat actually helped Tencent complete its identity transformation from "technology imitator" to "independent brand." From then on, China's internet had its own green totem.


Act Two: The Commercial Code of the Virtual Empire (2003-2008)


January 24, 2003 - A Day That Changed Tencent's Fate


If server-side storage solved QQ's survival problem, then QQ Show solved its profitability problem. And the inspiration for this product that saved Tencent surprisingly came from a chance business trip to Korea.


In 2002, Tencent product manager Xu Liang saw a website called Sayclub in Seoul. This website sold virtual avatar decoration services—users could purchase clothes, hairstyles, and backgrounds for their avatars. Xu Liang keenly realized: wasn't this the business model QQ needed?


After returning to China, he worked overnight to write a 65-page PPT including market strategy, financial forecasts, and staffing plans. After reading it, Ma Huateng immediately approved: do it.


On January 24, 2003, QQ Show went into trial operation. Six months later, the data shocked everyone: 5 million users paid, averaging 5 yuan per person. This seemingly simple virtual decoration function brought Tencent real cash flow.


Ma Huateng himself became one of the first users. He dressed his virtual avatar in long hair, sunglasses, and tight jeans, looking like a rock star. A Tencent internal employee later recalled: "Pony's (Ma Huateng's English name) enthusiasm for QQ Show exceeded imagination. He truly believed that identity expression in the virtual world was a human necessity."


Facts proved him right. QQ Show not only saved Tencent from financial crisis but also pioneered a completely new business model—virtual privilege economy. The subsequently launched "Red Diamond VIP" system (10 yuan/month subscription) quickly broke through ten million in revenue. The derived Yellow Diamond (QQ Zone), Green Diamond (QQ Music), Pink Diamond (QQ Pet), and Blue Diamond (QQ Games) constructed a complete paid membership empire.


A commentator said: "Without QQ Show, Tencent might have died in 2003." This statement is no exaggeration. QQ Show proved a truth ignored by global internet companies: In the virtual world, humans also need dignity, need identity recognition, need to establish social currency through external symbols. When the real world cannot give young people these things, they will desperately seek them in the digital world.


Hierarchy System: A Sociological Experiment in Leveling Up by Being Online


If QQ Show satisfied the need for "display," then the QQ level system satisfied the instinct for "competition."


In 2003, Tencent launched the QQ level feature. This function directly quantified users' online time into visible social capital—every 2 hours online counted as 1 day, and after accumulating certain days, the level icon would change:


4 stars = 1 moon

4 moons = 1 sun (level 16)

4 suns = 1 crown (level 64)


The "sun" level became early users' core pursuit, because only reaching the sun allowed creating QQ groups and customizing avatars. This design of linking core functional privileges to online time greatly stimulated users' willingness to be online.


Thus, a peculiar phenomenon was born: hanging-up culture.


Countless users developed the habit of being online 24/7—even when not using the computer, they kept QQ online. This even spawned a gray "proxy hanging" industry chain: internet cafes and individuals provided specialized servers to help users hang online 24/7 for leveling up, charging from 5 to 20 yuan per month.


This behavior triggered social controversy about electricity waste. Environmental activists estimated: if 10 million computers idled for QQ leveling, the annual electricity wasted equaled the power generation of a small hydroelectric station.


In 2005, Tencent was forced to adjust the rules, changing from simple hour accumulation to an "active days" system (being online for 2 hours per day counted as 1 active day, additional hanging was useless), and introduced "acceleration cards" linked to value-added services for leveling up. This adjustment both alleviated electricity waste accusations and further promoted membership sales.


June 7, 2025 at Dawn - A Historic Moment


22 years later, the world's first QQ level 256 user "Ai Jiemo" was born, becoming the first person to possess the "Time Penguin" level icon. Even more amazing: his account was inherited from his father, registered in 2000.


"One QQ for three generations, people die but QQ remains." Netizens' jokes became reality. This five-digit QQ number truly achieved intergenerational inheritance of digital heritage.


Act Three: QQ Zone - The Digital Utopia of 2005


The Social Etiquette of "踩空间" (Stepping on Spaces)


In April 2005, Tencent launched QQ Zone (Qzone). Unlike the popular Sina Blog or MSN Space at the time, Qzone extremely emphasized "decoration" rather than content itself.


For many post-90s users, QQ Zone was the first completely private territory they owned. Carefully selected background music (set to autoplay), melancholic diary entries, encrypted photo albums, non-mainstream signatures—these elements together constituted a generation's digital youth declaration.


"Stepping on spaces" became a social etiquette. Friends increased popularity by visiting each other, leaving brief greetings like "踩踩" (step step), "回踩" (step back) on message boards. This seemingly meaningless interaction was actually an important means of maintaining weak relationships—it told the other person: "I remember you, I care about you."


Yellow Diamond Privileges and Decoration Aesthetics


Ordinary users had limited Qzone options, while "Yellow Diamond" users possessed almost unlimited decoration permissions. This "decoration" culture formed a sharp contrast with blog culture at the time: blogs emphasized content, Qzone emphasized vibe and display.


A user named "Ye Yu" recalled: "In 2007, I was 14 years old. To decorate my QQ Zone, I spent all my allowance on Yellow Diamond. I designed a gothic-style space—black background, blood-red fonts, autoplay of Linkin Park's 'Numb.' The first thing after school every day was refreshing my space to see how many people came to step, whether anyone left messages on the message board. At that time, I felt that having a beautiful space meant having the whole world."


This obsession with decoration reflected teenagers' strong desire for self-identity expression. In real life, their rooms might be designed by parents, school desks were all identical, even the uniforms they wore were the same. But in QQ Zone, they could finally construct their own world according to their own aesthetics.


2009: The Social Experiment of Nationwide Vegetable Stealing


In 2009, QQ Farm went online. This seemingly simple social game completely changed Chinese people's sleep schedules in the following year.


The game rules were extremely simple: plant virtual crops, harvest after maturity, and simultaneously "steal" friends' ripe fruits. It sounded devoid of technical content, but it precisely utilized three human psychologies: possessiveness (planting vegetables), voyeurism (watching what friends are doing), competitiveness (stealing vegetables).


The data was shocking:


By the end of Q3, QQ Zone active accounts grew 33.7% quarterly to 305.3 million

Peak monthly revenue around 50 million yuan, gross profit of 104 million yuan in three months

Tencent urgently purchased numerous servers to handle traffic peaks


"Midnight vegetable stealing" became a social phenomenon. Countless users set alarms for the middle of the night, getting up at 2 or 3 AM to harvest crops to prevent friends from stealing them. Two Guangzhou civil servants were dismissed for delaying work due to addiction to vegetable stealing, making headlines.


Behind this nationwide frenzy was an accidental sociological experiment. QQ Farm proved that: when virtual world rules are simple enough, feedback is immediate enough, and social relationship chains are strong enough, humans can change their behavior patterns in the real world for completely valueless virtual gains.


Loyal players still exist today. In 2023, a 55-year-old Auntie Chen said in an interview: "I've played QQ Farm continuously for 14 years, owning three accounts at levels 402, 377, and 294. I've grown Dry-Fried Beef Noodles, Fish-Flavored Shredded Pork, Kung Pao Chicken... These dishes have become part of my life."


Act Four: The Power Politics of Groups (2002-2024)


From "What to Eat for Lunch Today" to the Digital Grassroots Organization of 2 Billion People


QQ Groups were born in 2002, with the initial inspiration surprisingly coming from an extremely simple workplace need—Tencent employees needed a group to discuss "what to eat for lunch today."


No one expected that this small feature would evolve over the next twenty-plus years into China's largest online community ecosystem. From family groups continuing clan ties, to class groups with education anxiety, from interest groups gathering subcultures, to micro-business groups' commercial empires—QQ Groups carried almost all types of Chinese social relationships.


The Power Inversion of Family Groups


In family groups, an interesting phenomenon occurred: the generational inversion of technological power. Young people held group owner privileges but were often the most silent members; parents, though ordinary group members, were the most active content producers—health articles, holiday greetings, gathering notices constituted family group content.


Group names were often ritualistic: "Imperial Relatives," "Loving Family," "XX Family Glory." This naming method was the continuation of traditional Chinese clan concepts in the digital world.


The Education War of Class Groups


If family groups were sites of generational harmony, class groups (especially parent groups) were battlefields of education anxiety.


In 2020, a Jiangsu parent released a video announcing withdrawal from the parent group, accusing teachers of "transferring" homework grading to parents. This video triggered commentary from CCTV and People's Daily, ultimately promoting over 10 provinces to issue documents explicitly "stopping" parents from grading homework.


In 2024, a Gansu parent was kicked out of the group chat for questioning a teacher assigning homework at 9 PM, again trending on social media. Comments were extremely heated: some supported parents' rights, others accused parents of disrespecting teacher authority.


The essence of these conflicts was: In the seemingly equal digital space of QQ Groups, real-world power structures did not disappear but became more naked and sharp due to the lack of face-to-face social buffering mechanisms.


Evolution of Group Rules: From Anarchy to Hierarchy


QQ Groups' power structure precisely replicated real society's hierarchy. Group owners possessed supreme "life and death" authority; ordinary groups could set 3 administrators, each crown level up adding 1 more.


Early QQ Groups were anarchic—no rules, no review, random screen flooding. But as group members increased, managers had to formulate increasingly detailed rules:


"Sending 6 consecutive meaningless messages counts as flooding, kick out"

"Strictly forbidden to use fonts larger than size 12" (prohibiting big-character posters)

"Forbidden to send illegal information, politically sensitive topics, personal attacks"

"Advertisements need private chat with group owner for permission, otherwise kick out"


A widely circulated "QQ Group Management Standards" even detailed: "Administrators must patrol 3+ times daily," "Kicking requires two administrators' agreement," "If group owner is offline long-term, can initiate democratic vote for replacement."


The evolution of these rules can be called a micro-history of social governance—from wild growth to refined management, from individual dictatorship to democratic consultation.


Legal Intervention: Group Owners' Criminal Responsibility


In 2019, Guangdong Qingyuan Court ruled: 3 QQ group administrators were sentenced to 10 months to 1 year imprisonment for allowing obscene videos to be uploaded in groups.


In 2020, Guangzhou Internet Court ruled: A property group owner who ignored abusive behavior for over a year, the property company must bear civil compensation.


The legal responsibility boundaries of group owners are gradually becoming clear in judicial practice. These precedents send a signal: In the digital world, power and responsibility also need to be proportional.


Act Five: Misunderstood Youth - The Sociological Truth of Shamate and Martian Language


Around 2006, A Village in Meizhou, Guangdong


Luo Fuxing, a fifth-grader, first encountered online games at the village internet cafe. The characters on screen wore exaggerated clothing, had colorful explosive hairstyles, wore glittering accessories—that was "Visual Kei" styling aesthetics. Luo Fuxing stared at the screen without blinking.


"I want to become like that."


Born in 1995, Luo Fuxing had been a left-behind child since age three. His parents went out to work, and he lived successively with his maternal grandfather and paternal grandfather. In school, with poor grades, he was placed in the back row of the classroom, teachers treating him as air. Various childhood neglects became the reason for his later obsession with Shamate styling.


So he walked into the village barbershop, requesting an "explosive head." He also bought hair dye from the two-yuan store, dyeing his hair eye-catching pink. He also applied lipstick, pierced his ears wearing white earrings, wore black clothes, stuck on tattoo stickers, tore holes at the knees of his jeans.


When Luo Fuxing appeared on the street with this exaggerated look, passersby turned their heads. Some whispered, some pointed, but Luo Fuxing felt an unprecedented sense of existence for the first time—in this world that ignored him, he was finally seen.


He used the internet cafe webcam to take photos, posted them online, and received feedback saying "cooler than fashion." Luo Fuxing searched "fashion" on the computer, discovered the word "smart." Having learned English pronunciation with wrong characters since childhood, he read it as "Si-ma-te," later feeling it wasn't domineering enough, changed it to "Sha-ma-te" (Kill-horse-special).


That was around 2006, the name "Shamate" was born.


"Shamate": A Demonized Grassroots Youth Self-Rescue Movement


Luo Fuxing named this style "Shamate" (transliteration of Smart), established QQ groups under the name "Shamate Family," pulling in those who liked his styling. Soon, this styling attracted many similarly lonely and marginalized teenagers. They came from Sichuan, Guizhou, Hunan, Jiangxi—China's poorest rural areas, dropping out of school early, working in electronics factories, garment factories, and toy factories in Shenzhen, Dongguan, and Guangzhou.


First semester of middle school, Luo Fuxing dropped out, intermittently working in Shenzhen factories. But his QQ group empire continued expanding—"Burial Love Family," "残Blood Family," "Bloodthirsty Family." At peak, he managed over 20 QQ groups, with at least 200,000 people under effective management. The admission system was extremely strict:


Newcomers must pass reviewers' inspection of their QQ Zone and hairstyle

Hairstyle must meet "anti-gravity" standards (at least 5+ spikes)

After joining, must modify nickname to format "殺獁特のXX"

Strict hierarchy within groups: clan leader, vice clan leader, administrators, elites, ordinary members


In mainstream society's eyes, Shamate was synonymous with "brain-dead," "vulgar," "ugly aesthetics." In 2010, during the national "Anti-Three-Vulgarities" campaign, Shamate was defined as "low-vulgar, vulgar, pandering." In 2013, an online campaign called "Anti-Sha Movement" began—anti-Sha organization members infiltrated Shamate QQ groups, obtained administrator status through deception, then overnight disbanded all members, destroying entire family structures.


Major platforms banned Shamate-related content. Baidu Tieba deleted Shamate Bar, QQ Zone restricted Shamate keyword searches. Luo Fuxing and his followers were driven out of mainstream internet spaces.


Oral History of 78 Shamate Youth


In 2017, documentary director Li Yifan began filming "Shamate I Love You." Starting from Shenzhen, in Guangdong, Chongqing, Guizhou, Yunnan and other places, he completed 67 in-person Shamate interviews and 11 online interviews. Meanwhile, he collected 915 segments of factory assembly line and worker life videos from Shamate and other workers through direct purchase of phone videos. In December 2019, the documentary premiered at Guangdong Times Art Museum.


These interviews revealed a cruel truth:


All interviewed Shamate youth, without exception, came from rural migrant worker groups. Their common characteristics were:


Dropped out of middle school (average dropout age 13-15)

Mostly left-behind children (parents went out to work)

Engaged in low-end manufacturing (electronics factory, garment factory assembly lines)

Poor living conditions (8-12 person dormitories)

Low social status (discriminated against by urban residents)


An interviewee named "Xiao Jie" said: "We're just part of the machines in factories. Work at 7 AM, off at 7 PM, only half an hour for lunch. Except for sleeping, we have no time of our own. This hairstyle is the only thing I can control."


Another girl named "Xiao Feng" said: "My mom says my dressing is embarrassing. But she doesn't know, if I didn't dress like this, I'd be invisible in the city. No one would look at me, no one would remember me."


Shamate was not aesthetic failure, but grassroots youth's self-expression using their only resources. When they had no money, no education, no social status, exaggerated hairstyles became the only "capital" they could control. And QQ Groups were their only spiritual home in the cold city.


Martian Language: Post-90s' Encrypted Language and Generational War


If Shamate was visual resistance, Martian Language was linguistic encryption.


"請罙噯這朶ㄝ孒" (Please deeply love this girl)

"蕜傷縌蓅成河" (Sadness flows upstream into a river)

"莪們①矗茬①起" (We've always been together)


These garbled-looking texts were the mainstream writing style of QQ Zone from 2005-2013. They mixed traditional characters, variant characters, pinyin, symbols, Japanese kana, forming an encrypted system only specific groups could decode.


A user with the screen name "Bing Ning" recalled: "In 2007, I was 14, the home computer was in the living room, my parents could see what I was doing anytime. When chatting with my online dating partner, if I used normal Chinese characters, my mom could understand at a glance. But if I used Martian Language, she couldn't understand at all. This gave me a sense of privacy security."


The motivation for using Martian Language was multifaceted:


Privacy protection: Parents and teachers couldn't decode, creating private space in monitored environments

Identity recognition: Using Martian Language was a "certificate of allegiance" to join QQ groups and Shamate families; those who didn't use it were considered "old-fashioned"

Resisting authority: Martian Language was rebellion against standardized characters and standardized education

Evading censorship: Due to using many non-standard characters, it could effectively bypass keyword filtering


But Martian Language also had a hierarchy of contempt. Advanced users manually used Japanese keyboards, Greek letters, mathematical symbols, considered "technical flow"; low-level users relied on online generators for automatic conversion, mocked as "soulless."


Act Six: The Cultural War of Emojis


2003, That Classic "Grinning Face"


In 2003, QQ 2003 version launched the first system emoji set—the classic "little yellow faces." These emojis came from the hands of a legendary designer "Hui Hui Cai" who had left the company. Among them, the "grinning face" emoji became the emotional code for an entire generation of post-80s.


In 2014, QQ's annual emoji sends exceeded 533.8 billion, with over 90% of 800 million+ users having used emojis in chats. These simple graphic symbols carried emotional density far exceeding text.


However, a generational war over emoji understanding was quietly occurring.


The Intergenerational Gap of the "Smile" Emoji


QQ's "smile" emoji 🙂, when designed, was meant to express pleasure. But in young people's eyes, it became a symbol of "coldness," "perfunctoriness," and even "passive-aggressive sarcasm."


Zhihu user "An Yong's" interpretation received nearly 15,000 likes: "This emoji has no contraction of the orbicularis oculi muscle, accompanied by downward eye movement, indicating not only a fake smile but also reflecting a negative mindset. When elders send this emoji, they think they're expressing friendliness; when we receive this emoji, what we feel is coldness and perfunctoriness."


In 2019, a customer service representative was complained about for "bad attitude" for using the "smile" emoji when communicating with customers. After company investigation: the customer service thought it was polite smiling, the customer understood it as sarcasm and impatience.


Data shows different age groups' emoji preferences show significant differences:


Post-00s favorite: "facepalm" 😂

Post-90s favorite: "😂"

Post-80s favorite: "grinning face" 😁

Post-70s favorite: "snickering" 🤭

55+ favorite: "strong" 👍


Emoji preference has become an invisible tag of generational identity.


January 20, 2016: Diba Expedition, "War" Application of Emojis


This was the largest-scale "emoji war" in internet history.


The cause was Taiwanese artist Chou Tzu-yu's forced apology incident. Angry mainland netizens decided to launch a "cultural exchange"—Baidu Li Yi Bar (Diba) with over 20 million users organized an "emoji bombardment" targeting Taiwanese artists' Facebook pages.


The organizational structure was remarkably sophisticated:


Intelligence group: collect target accounts, formulate attack timetables

Propaganda group: publish mobilization orders on major platforms

Design group: mass-produce emojis

Translation group: translate emojis into traditional Chinese

Report group: report counter-attack content

Mobile group: respond to emergencies


Emojis were subdivided into over ten categories: mainland scenery and food, dialects, Huang Zitao, socialist positive energy, Jin Guan Zhang, Yao Ming face, Hyogo Kitamura (Hanazawa Kana)...


At 7 PM, the battle began. Within hours, Facebook pages of Tsai Ing-wen, Chou Tzu-yu and others were flooded with massive comments, almost all emojis. Taiwanese netizens tried to fight back but were completely outmatched in numbers and organization. Eventually, multiple Taiwanese artists were forced to close Facebook comment functions.


This "war" was called a new form of "cultural export" by media. Jin Guan Zhang, Yao Ming face, Hyogo Kitamura were crowned the "Three Giants of Emoji Battle," becoming cultural symbols of China's internet.


Act Seven: Hidden Corners - Online Dating, Invisibility, and Digital Emotions


"Invisible to All Except You": The Most Subtle Emotional Secret Language


Among all QQ functions, "invisible to all except you" might be the design that most evokes emotional resonance.


Its logic is simple: you're invisible to everyone in the world, but show online to one specific person. This means: everyone in the world doesn't know you're online, except him.


A user shared a heartbreaking experience on Zhihu: "I had a crush on her for three years. I set her to 'invisible to all except you,' hoping when she came online she could see me and talk to me. But one day, I discovered she set me to 'invisible to all except her not visible'—she didn't want to see me online. Later, I discovered she set another guy to 'invisible to all except you.' That moment I understood, in her heart, that person was the special one."


This seemingly simple function became a generation's digital secret language for expressing crushes, longing, and testing. Ordinary users could set 10 people, QQ members could set unlimited.


Five-Digit QQ Numbers: Digital Age Noble Badges


In early Chinese internet, QQ number digits were status symbols. A user with a five-digit QQ number shared "privileges" and "troubles":


Receive phishing links attempting account theft 2+ times daily on average

Every three days someone asks if the number is for sale

Two out of ten netizens think you're a hacker


"When picking up girls online, even if she originally planned to ignore you, she might accept your friend request because your number is good"


In 2005, QQ number 88888 sold for 260,200 yuan at a Taobao charity auction, exceeding the price of a Zhang Daqian landscape painting. This price was enough to buy an apartment in a third-tier city at the time.


Online Dating: From "Meeting Disaster" to Primary Way of Finding Partners


Around the millennium, online dating was a romantic novelty. Pizi Cai's "First Intimate Contact" swept the nation, countless people imitated the novel's plot, searching for "Qing Wu Fei Yang" on QQ.


Online dating stories of that era were full of uncertainty:


"We chatted on QQ for three months, every night from 8 PM to 2 AM. I thought she was a gentle, cute southern girl, but when we met I discovered she was a Northeast big sister, 175cm tall, talking like a machine gun. But I still fell in love with her."—A netizen's recollection


"Long-distance online dating for two years, figured out how to get together, real-life dating for two years, married for three years already."—Douban user sharing


Stanford University's 2020 research showed "meeting online" had become the primary way of finding partners, nearly 40%, exceeding traditional methods like introduction by friends or meeting at bars.


But still "when asked, don't dare say online dating, instead choose to say 'fate'"—online dating's stigmatization hasn't completely disappeared.


Act Eight: Pandemic Moment - The Unexpected Transformation of 2020


February 2020, Nationwide School Suspension


The COVID-19 pandemic caused unprecedented nationwide school suspension. The Ministry of Education proposed "classes suspended but learning continues," and overnight, all teachers and students were forced to turn to online teaching.


DingTalk, Tencent Meeting, Xuexitong and other platforms announced free opening, but the ultimate winner was QQ.


Shenzhen survey data (5,103 questionnaires) showed: Tencent Classroom usage accounted for 73.6%, far exceeding DingTalk's 7.7%. The reason was simple—QQ's user base was too massive. Whether teachers, students, or parents, all already had QQ accounts, no need to download, register, or learn new software.


But QQ Group Classroom also exposed many problems:


Technical issues: Occasional lag when hundreds of people online simultaneously, needed everyone to mute for improved smoothness

Discipline problems: Students lacked constraint taking online classes at home, "lying in bed, holding pets, eating snacks in class" became common

Awkward moments: Countless students socially died from "forgetting to mute"—eating sounds, gaming sounds, arguing with parents sounds heard by the whole class


A high school student shared on Zhihu: "The most embarrassing time, I thought I muted, but actually didn't. My mom scolded me for ten minutes outside, the whole class and teacher heard. After class, the class group exploded, all 'hahahahaha'."


43.32% of primary and secondary students believed learning during the pandemic was worse than in-school learning. But this special period allowed QQ to accidentally complete deep penetration into educational scenarios.


Act Nine: 2020-2025 - The Last Stand of Youth Strategy


Decline from 870 Million to 524 Million Monthly Active Users


After QQ reached its historical peak of 870 million monthly active users in 2016, it began continuous decline. In Q4 2024, monthly active users dropped to 524 million, down 5% year-over-year. The gap with WeChat's 1.385 billion monthly active users further widened.


The reasons for decline were obvious: WeChat occupied adults' social time, young people's attention was divided by Douyin, Bilibili, Xiaohongshu. QQ seemed caught between two generations, in a dilemma.


But Tencent didn't give up on QQ. On the contrary, it formulated a clear differentiation strategy: QQ focuses on young people, emphasizing interest-based socializing, entertainment, personality expression; WeChat focuses on acquaintance socializing, work communication.


Data proved this strategy's effectiveness: Questmobile data showed post-00s users' active penetration TGI on QQ was 129.1, on WeChat only 100.7—QQ remained young people's main battleground.


The Failure of QQ Short Video and Reflection


In April 2020, QQ Xiaoshijie launched, renamed "QQ Short Video" in 2023. However announced closure in March 2025.


Reasons for failure were multiple:


Failed to form healthy content ecosystem, criticized as "low-quality ported content hub"

Gen Z users' insufficient spending power, hard to support e-commerce live streaming model

Internal competition with WeChat Video, dispersed resources


This failure proved: In the short video track, simply relying on traffic diversion is insufficient, must have unique content ecosystem and business model.


HarmonyOS Adaptation: Embracing Domestic Operating System


On October 22, 2024, Huawei HarmonyOS NEXT officially released, QQ was in the first batch of supported applications. Since HarmonyOS NEXT uses unique ArkTS language, Tencent had to completely redevelop QQ.


User feedback was generally positive: "HarmonyOS version QQ is smoother, more power-efficient, core functions fully usable."


The significance of this adaptation lies not only in technology but also in attitude—QQ demonstrated determination to embrace domestic ecosystems and accompany Chinese users.


AI Era Exploration


Tencent Hunyuan large model has been integrated into over 700 QQ scenarios, with over 200 million internal daily calls. Users can create AI agents through Tencent Yuanqi platform, one-click distribute to QQ bots.


But compared to AI applications young people truly need (like learning assistance, creation tools), QQ's AI functions still seem conservative. Whether AI can be used to redefine social networking will be key to whether QQ can rise again.


Epilogue: Youth Epitaph in the Digital Archive


September 2023, An Autumn Evening


A netizen named "Ye Yu" opened his long-sealed QQ Zone. The page loaded slowly, background music autoplay—Linkin Park's "Numb," the song he set at age 14.


In the photo wall were 2007's non-mainstream selfies—45-degree upward angle shots, black-and-white filters, Martian Language signature "請罙噯這朶ㄝ孒." In the message board were classmates' Martian Language messages "踩踩," "回踩." In the diary were those declarations full of eighth-grader syndrome.


He watched and couldn't help laughing, then found his eyes a bit wet.


Someone commented: "Every generation has memories only peers understand. Only friends who experienced QQ Zone's golden period can appreciate the surprise when gray avatars lit up, when 'bang-bang-bang' knocking sounds played in headphones."


QQ is not just software, but a digital archive for 800 million Chinese netizens. Here lies:


The scarce glory of five-digit QQ numbers and digital mapping of social status

The secret language of crushes in "invisible to all except you" and emotional testing

The nationwide frenzy of midnight vegetable stealing and social experiments of virtual economy

The rise and fall history of Shamate families and grassroots youth's self-expression

The generational war of Martian Language and linguistic encryption resisting authority

Education anxiety in class groups and digital battlefields of home-school relations

Cultural export of emojis and generational understanding gaps

Unexpected transformation of pandemic online classes and digital education growing pains


These digital fragments connect us with our past selves, and also connect us with those who walked through youth together. They won't disappear with time, but quietly lie in servers, waiting to be reawakened someday.


History's irony lies in this: When we mock Shamate's "tackiness," we forget that was the only dignity for 200,000 grassroots youth in cold cities; when we criticize Martian Language for "destroying Chinese language," we forget that was a generation's resistance for privacy in monitored environments; when we complain QQ is "old, outdated," we forget it accompanied us through those irreplaceable youthful years.


In 2025, QQ is already 26 years old, older than many users. Its monthly active users are declining, its functions are being imitated and surpassed by other platforms, it may be becoming "tears of the era."


But on some midnight, when you open that sealed QQ Zone, see those immature words, exaggerated non-mainstream photos, Martian Language signatures, you'll suddenly realize:


Youth won't disappear, it's just compressed into strings of 0s and 1s, stored in some distant server.


Those gray avatars represent those friends drifting further away.

Those unread messages represent those words that couldn't be spoken.

Those deleted photos represent those memories you want to forget but can't.


QQ's significance never lay in how many monthly active users, how much revenue, how much market value.


Its significance lies in witnessing a generation's entire digital life from teenager to young adult, from young adult to middle age.


It's our digital youth, our second life, our deepest bond with this era.


When we look back at this history, perhaps we should say:


Thank you, QQ.


Thank you for remembering who we once were.


Di-di-di—that's the sound of an era.


References


National Arbitration Forum OICQ Domain Arbitration Verdict (March 21, 2000), National Arbitration Forum


Tencent QQ Show Product Proposal PPT (65 pages, 2002), Xu Liang


Tencent 2009 Q3 Financial Report, Tencent Holdings


Tencent 2024 Q4 Financial Report, Tencent Holdings


"QQ Group Management Standards," circulated online document


Guangdong Qingyuan Court QQ Group Administrator Criminal Verdict (2019), Guangdong Qingyuan Court


Guangzhou Internet Court Property Group Owner Civil Verdict (2020), Guangzhou Internet Court


Jiangsu Parent Group Exit Incident Report (2020), CCTV/People's Daily


Gansu Parent Kicked from Group Incident Report (2024), Media Reports


"Shamate I Love You" (Documentary, filmed 2017, premiered 2019), Li Yifan


"Tencent Biography," Wu Xiaobo


"Boiling Fifteen Years: China's Internet 1995-2009," Lin Jun


"First Intimate Contact," Pizi Cai (Cai Zhiheng)


Stanford University Online Dating Research Report (2020), Stanford University


Shenzhen Online Teaching Survey Report (5,103 questionnaires, 2020), Shenzhen Education Department


QuestMobile Post-00s User Active Penetration Data, QuestMobile


Zhihu "Smile Emoji" Interpretation Post, User "An Yong"


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