HANDAN – On February 16, 2026 – Chinese New Year’s Eve – Li Yunyun, a 34-year-old tai chi teacher from Handan in North China’s Hebei province, appeared briefly on the China Central Television Spring Festival Gala, closing her seconds-long segment with Xie Fei Shi, the oblique flying posture executed with a folding fan.
The broadcast is widely regarded as China’s most-watched television program, turning even brief appearances into moments of national visibility. Produced by China Media Group under the country’s centralized broadcasting system, the gala has been described by state and academic sources as the single most-watched TV event in the world and a flagship vehicle for official cultural messaging, with major propaganda and broadcasting officials traditionally overseeing its rehearsal and content decisions. Through its role in China’s state media architecture – anchored in the regulatory authority of the National Radio and Television Administration, which licenses and supervises national broadcasters – the gala effectively sets the tone for how traditional culture is packaged and projected each lunar new year.
Li said the stage offered a chance for more people to experience tai chi’s traditional culture, not a bid for personal fame.
Li Yunyun (center) practices tai chi with a group of her students in Handan, Hebei province. CHINA DAILY
“We saw you on TV!”
That message was texted to Li Yunyun’s phone over and over again on the evening of Feb 16 – Chinese New Year’s Eve. The 34-year-old tai chi teacher had just appeared on China Central Television Spring Festival Gala, the most-watched television program in China and, by global audience size, one of the world’s largest annual broadcasts.
Li’s spotlight moment lasted just a few seconds, ending with her signature Xie Fei Shi (oblique flying posture), performed with a folding fan in her hand. But those seconds meant everything.
“Even if I had only one shot, I wanted to show the most authentic tai chi movement,” Li told China Daily.
Standing on the Spring Festival Gala stage was not about personal fame, but an opportunity for more people to feel the charm of tai chi’s traditional culture – and, by extension, to see that slow, meditative movement can share space with pop spectacle on China’s biggest state-run stage.
The move Li chose combines elements of Yang-style and Wu-style, two major schools that originated in her hometown of Handan, North China’s Hebei province. To execute it, one foot firmly steps forward while the other pushes from behind. The upper body leans slightly but remains balanced. The arm extends like a wild goose spreading its wings, the fan opening in a straight, powerful line. “It’s a movement that contains openness within closure, softness within strength,” Li said. “That’s the essence of tai chi – strength that doesn’t show itself directly, but exists underneath.”
Her brief performance also aligned with a broader push by Chinese authorities to position traditional practices – from martial arts to opera – as core elements of “excellent traditional culture,” a policy phrase that increasingly shapes what appears on major national broadcasts each Spring Festival. Within that framework, a few seconds of tai chi on the gala stage double as both personal achievement and a curated image of cultural continuity for hundreds of millions of viewers in China and abroad.
Trick led to lifelong path
Li’s journey to the gala stage began 27 years ago, at the age of 7. “I loved dancing when I was little,” she said with a smile. “My father told me he was taking me to learn dance. It was a trick. Only after we arrived did I realize it was a martial arts school.”
For the first two weeks, Li cried every day. The unfamiliar environment and harsh training were nothing like the graceful dance moves she had imagined. But gradually, something changed. Watching martial arts films like The Shaolin Temple, Li became drawn to the heroic spirit of martial artists. Flipping, practicing fistic techniques, rolling in the sandy training ground – the active child found herself immersed.
“Martial arts training is hard, but the sense of achievement afterward, the confidence that comes from within … that’s something nothing else can give you,” she said.
Over the years, Li trained in various styles – Xiaohongquan, Dahongquan, Qixingquan – as a child, and later Changquan and weapons training at the city sports school. “These external styles emphasize speed, power and explosive movements; strength that explodes outward,” she said.
Then came tai chi, and everything shifted.
From local training ground to a tightly managed national stage
Li’s appearance followed decades of training that began when her father took her – under the pretense of a dance lesson – to a martial arts school at age 7. She recalled crying through the first two weeks before embracing the discipline after watching classic martial arts films.
Key milestones she described:
- Start of training: age 7, at a martial arts school rather than a dance class.
- Early inspiration: films such as The Shaolin Temple.
- Childhood focus: Xiaohongquan, Dahongquan, Qixingquan.
- Later training: Changquan and weapons at a city sports school.
- Transition: a later shift toward tai chi, emphasizing internal strength and balance over pure speed and power.
“Martial arts training is hard, but the sense of achievement afterward, the confidence that comes from within … that’s something nothing else can give you,” she said.
Her personal journey now intersects with a gala that has, since its launch in the 1980s, evolved into a marathon broadcast simulcast across multiple China Media Group channels and online platforms, with content and tone vetted in line with the country’s media governance framework. The show’s mix of comedy skits, patriotic songs and cultural performances is curated not only for entertainment but also to reflect priorities set by the Party’s publicity system and the state broadcasting regulator, making every featured discipline – including tai chi – part of a deliberate national narrative.
Linking Handan’s tai chi heritage to a national audience
Li said the Xie Fei Shi posture she chose blended Yang-style and Wu-style – two major tai chi schools she said originated in Handan. She described the movement’s mechanics: one foot stepping forward, the other pushing from behind, a slight lean with balanced posture, and an arm extended like a wild goose as the fan opens in a straight, powerful line.
“It’s a movement that contains openness within closure, softness within strength,” she said.
For Handan, a city that promotes itself as a birthplace of multiple tai chi schools, such visibility on the gala stage dovetails with local efforts to brand traditional martial arts as both cultural heritage and a tourism and health resource. For national planners, it fits neatly into a longer-running policy trend in which officially endorsed traditional practices – from tai chi in parks to classical opera excerpts on prime-time TV – are framed as tools to build “cultural confidence” at home and soft power abroad.
What Li said about the broadcast moment
“Even if I had only one shot, I wanted to show the most authentic tai chi movement,” she said.
She said the national spotlight mattered because it allowed more viewers to feel tai chi’s traditional culture. On a program where airtime is shaped by institutional gatekeepers and where each segment is expected to serve broader narrative goals, her seconds-long performance became both a personal statement of craft and one more carefully chosen illustration of how China wants its traditions to be seen in 2026.
The gala appearance aired on February 16, 2026, and her segment lasted only a few seconds, concluding with Xie Fei Shi performed with a folding fan.
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