🐣 FELDERMELDER — SHANGHAI (SHAO REMIX) [初演 • PREMIERE]

⌾ LISTEN TO FELDERMELDER, SHANGHAI (SHAO REMIX) ⌾

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By the trundling false-starts, erratic thuds and empty scrawls of shining synth and vocal sample etchings, it certainly does seem that in 'Shanghai' Swiss producer Feldermelder achieved the goal of reflecting a late night walk through a deserted area of the Chinese megacity. Based on a visual recording of that experience ("an attempt to capture nightly nothingness," wrote Feldermelder), 'Shanghai' glitches, squawks and buzzes throughout the track, a noisy, gleaming morsel with a mood ripe for remixing.

On that remix is long-time friend, Beijing-based producer and sound designer Shao. "It was last summer, on a rainy morning, I was drinking on the rooftop beside my studio," Shao remembers. "I got the message from Manuel [Oberholz, aka Feldermelder], asking me to remix a track that he did in China."

⌾ THE ORIGINAL 'SHANGHAI' BY FELDERMELDER ⌾

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Creating the remix was as simple as stripping the original track bare and then processing them with "some effects pedals, some delays" whilst adding a drum beat that matched the atmosphere.

"I just followed the feeling and the atmosphere and made a relaxing track," Shao, formerly known as Dead J, explains simply. Though focused recently on techno-flavoured production (see Shao's Doppler Shift Pt. 1), he decided to change things up for this remix.

The result is unrelaxing. A doomful doppelganger of the original, a doped dirge of surging drama like an undersea cave, a mirror to the mire of irony of lonely deserted streets in a huge city, crushing isolation told in drawn out growls of distortion and warped glitter.

And the beat, a sparse march of organic thuds, gives it a feeling of techno deconstructed, four-to-the-floor-minus-two, simultaneously creating – along with the teasing rise and fall of the synth waves – a sense of something about to teeter over the edge.

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• 🔔 This Shao remix of 'Shanghai' arrives ahead of Feldermelder's The Sound Of Remixes, out tomorrow 19th April on Zurich label -OUS. This release sees three tracks from the Swiss artist's 2018 The Sound Of EP. You can pre-order the remix EP here.

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📠
☟ Feldermelder Internet Presence ☟
facebook ⚘ soundcloud ⚘ bandcamp ⚘ official site ⚘ twitter ⚘ instagram ⚘ songkick ⚘ spotify

☟ Shao Internet Presence ☟
facebook ⚘ soundcloud ⚘ bandcamp ⚘ official site ⚘ instagram ⚘ resident advisor

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🐣 BOD [包家巷] — EMPTY MOUNTAIN WEEPS ALONE [空山独哭]

The screaming cosmic synth that hits at the start of this track, it arrives scathing and scorching, but shot through in the midst of its scratchings and scrapings is this plasma modulation, a sense of the steel and unbridled progress of the present and its outstretched hands craving the years ahead and beyond. The decayed whistle and muffled impact of a bomb, the PA system speaking to the crowd as you embark a ship to a future industrial megacity. This is the scene-setting power of two-thirds noise one-third classical in 'Empty Mountain Weeps Alone [空山独哭]' by LA-based musicmaker Nicolas Zhu aka bod or Baojiaxiang[包家巷] ('Baojia Alley'), presumably named after the same street in Chengdu. Maybe not.

Halfway through this short sharp snippet of sound we are introduced to this gargantuan construction site, the glitching beat like heavy machinery working in unison clashing together cranes and cement mixers and all the movement and drills and hammers and metal and muscle carving away at the surface of the earth and constructing a cradle of consumerism. In the background the silken tones of a traditional Chinese lute-like instrument (there are many so to name one would be a guess), like a sigh of nature drowned out by the grunts of advancement, reminscent of the hole-boring mall-making and gaudy grandiosity at tourist destination Yangshuo. Nature as stomped on by humanity. And it ends, the rush of cars in the rain, piano sounding a gentle shrug as protest, a casual hands-in-pocket lonely lament.

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• 🔔 This wonderful experimental piece arrives from bod's upcoming release for Zoom Lens called Piano Compositions: a 17-minute piece of which this snippet is in fact the 3rd movement. It's out and available tomorrow (15th December).
• 🔔 Read about the strange carnival that is Yangshuo right here, which we wrote about as part of our Visits travel series.

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📠
☟ bod [包家巷] Internet Presence ☟
facebook ⚘ soundcloud ⚘ official site ⚘ instagram

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🌏 VISITS — KUNMING

Way down south at the bottom of China is Kunming, the cool capital of Yunnan province. Kunming's border with Vietnam, Laos and Myanmar has helped shape the provincial capital's destiny as a travel and business hub. But with an under-the-radar, laid-back South East Asian vibe to match its cool summer climate, is there more to the Spring City than first meets than eye? Smoke and grit ballooned out of street side eateries, blurring red neon streets signs and permeating the night with a ting of otherworldy eeriness. Salivating smells of grilled meat filled the air. After a long, emotionally tiring journey, and a kind introduction to the city by two students we met on the train, our time in Kunming had begun. Just as we hit the streets on the search for a late night beer, food stalls were emptying and shops had shutters pulled down. It felt like we were too late, like it was the city's closing time.

We pushed further on a quest to quench our thirst. Through the haze that hung over the river blurred shapes of people emerged, girls and guys dressed in effortless eveningwear were moving from days spent hanging out in coffee shops and malls to come together in the city's clubs, to enjoy their lives and the student scene that is soundly submerged in the skin of Kunming. Kunming has gone through a lot for a fairly obscure city: it was used as a Chinese military centre during WWII, an American Air base, and a hugely historically important transport hub for the road to Burma, but it was in 1910 when the railway to Hanoi was built that Kunming's economic fortunes started to change. The city has undergone vast modernisation since the late '90s—now the streets are wide, office buildings are high and business districts have spread. Tourism has also become a huge focus for the area with the Chinese government pushing for a 'green city' status, as well as promoting the whole of Yunnan province as a clean and natural travel destination for native and foreign visitors.

The true strategic importance of the unassuming city is highlighted by the wildly adventurous plans for a 'Pan Asia High Speed Network', a high speed railway that aims to connect China, Cambodia, Loas, Myanmar, Thailand, Malaysia and Singapore. This is a huge project and will bring a lot of prosperity to the area, but of course comes shrouded in the nagging doubts and proven unsavoury interest that China has in the neighbouring developing countries. Questions of China's ethical practises and of their dubious presence in countries such a Laos where there is undeniable mass logging and damming of the Mekong primarily for Chinese profit. There are also plans to construct a highway linking Kunming with Bangladesh though Myanmar, another example of increased Chinese interest in surrounding developing countries. The borders with South East Asian countries not only affect Kunming's business fortunes, they also have a large impact on its cultural makeup, with a tangibly different feeling to other Chinese cities. There is a fashionably forward fresh feel to the streets. The city exudes a youthful student buzz, two universities and a medical college mean that there are a lot of cool kids hanging out all over town. Universities have long played a key role in shaping the city—the National Southwestern Associated University(国立西南联合大学) was founded in Kunming in 1938 during the Second Sino-Japanese War, and was a bastion for harbouring modern day Chinese democracy and liberal education.

We were in Kunming during Chinese Valentine's Day, which turned out to be an entertaining time. Cute young couples wandered around malls arm in arm, roses in hand. At dinner, groups of friends chatted and events were held to commemorate the romantic day outside the shiny malls. The students here have a fashionable edge that legitimately cemented our love of Asian fashion, unfussy stonewashed denim teamed with minimalistic '90s sportswear silhouettes, an unknowing Chinese twist on US sports luxe with less of the over-branded Korean ulzzang perfection and more of a kick back 'who cares' against their hardcore focus on education and overbearing government.

The young are knowledgeable and increasingly aware, so is it that through fashion they are able to show how they really feel? In the university-laden streets of Kunming are style and political trends incubated and allowed to flourish? A city to keep a cultural eye on, this could be where, given time, the changing in business fortunes for the growing middle class could rear its revolutionary head. Just give it time. Traditional Chinese aspects are still a mainstay of Kunming's cultural scene. At the Jingxing Birds and Flower Market the weird and wonderful emerge and our Western afflicted minds are put into turmoil as we take the afternoon to experience what we imagined to be an interesting old-time flower market. Strange succulents and ornamental orchids are proudly displayed by ancient sellers, ladies laden with pandan leaves and tobacco touts go about their everyday routines.

Further into the rebuilt modern-style market, the daily trade of plants is also a cover for the trade of animals. This was a tough one. Children cooed over polystyrene boxes brimming baby chicks, sullen-faced hedgehogs and unknown reptiles lulled sleepily behind unclean bars of brightly coloured cages. A regular sight for the Kunming residents was a stretch of the moral boundaries for us. The crisp and bright morning was blinkered by the sadness of seeing wildlife cooped up in disturbing conditions. The empathy for animals with a price tag continued as we took an afternoon stroll around Cuihu Park (Green Lake Park), a main park in Kunming, centred around a network of interlinked flourishing lily ponds. Shirkers sat in shaded spots under ornate pagodas wiling away afternoons playing chess and gossiping over tea. Parents entertained children with walks over bridges, boat rides and games.

Animals were on sale here too: tiny terrapins put into plastic spheres with no air or space, living baubles, and sold like candy floss to underwhelmed kinders. It seemed like a simple cultural difference between the West and Asia, but the feeling of the inane wasteful unimportance given to the lives of the small creatures took a while to leave our minds. Cultural differences are just par for the course when it comes to visiting foreign places but for small ethnic communities in China cultural differences often lead to a vast and lasting impact on the the fate of their traditions. The Old Quarter is home to the now practically dispersed Muslim Quarter, an area of huge importance to the cities Muslim Hui population. The old town has been recently redeveloped and, while some of the beautiful wooden buildings of yesteryear remain along with the artfully narrow and curved art-deco Sister Buildings (姊妹楼), most have been replaced with a mall and other glimmering visions of globalisation such as Starbucks. The Hui people are the seventh largest minority in Yunnan – the third largest of China's 56 "official" ethnic groups – and have been part of the fabric of the area for well over a thousand years, with a turbulent past reaching as far back as far as Kublai Khan's invading forces in 1253. Muslim warriors who were part of the Mongol forces that conquered China in the thirteenth century, stayed, married local women, adopted Chinese customs but still retained their Muslim religion that eventually formed the Hui identity, bolstered by trade with Muslim nations on the Silk Road.

Islam is such an integral part of the Hui people's makeup that they are the only minority in China to be classified as such due to religion alone, as opposed to language or ethnicity. By modernising a historically and culturally significant area that is such an intrinsic piece of the Kunming history the city appears to be showing that its focus lies with business and tourism rather than supporting its historical ties. Whilst looking for things to do in the city, we discovered that in 2004 a traditionally Hui district, Shuncheng Jie, had been completely demolished. Development comes at a price and it is, once again, minorities that seem to pay. Regardless of the rapid modernisation, Kunming remains a city with a depth of intriguing alleyways. The district around the university is filled with a richness of edgy creativity and culture with kitsch coffee shops and trendy boutiques. The aesthetic is as cool and stripped-back as the fashion. A western immigrant/expat community lives around the area, presumably attracted by teaching jobs at the university, and there are a smattering of hot spots where students and westerners hang out over falafel plates and wine glasses, an atmosphere extremely reminiscent of a corner of Hanoi where students and westerners mix over snacks and beer. An old slowness still seeps silently around the city streets. Children play barefoot and bare-bottomed in the street while their parents look on, chatting to their neighbour or sitting on duty outside shops that have been selling the same stock since the city was only two storeys high. There is a quaintness to local life woven into the city's tapestry that has been stitched over generations, before the tourists, before the students. Parks fill with Kunming's elderly who dance in the freshness of the evening, families enjoying their time together and friends having an evening drink along the river. Kunming is just another Chinese city in the midst of modernisation, but there is a lingering openness and a sense of chaos that isn't wholly Chinese. A Chinese version of South East Asia with all the beauty, ethnic mixtures and historical connections, it seems Kunming is a grey area. Its kinship with South East Asia represents a tangible difference to the rest of China: historically a political incubator and a university town, it may be following in the same path of other Chinese cities with its malls and metro system, but under the surface it is perfectly placed for the birth of modern day Chinese democracy and a new version of the way in which present day China could grow.

Later on in our travels, we drank a couple of beers in Siem Reap with a Thai Chinese guy we'd met earlier that day. We told him we'd been to China. "Where?" he asked. When we said the South, and Yunnan in particular, he smiled and responded, "That's not China—that's the same as here."

REBECCA ALICE SAUNDERS

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• 🔔 City Star Ji Feng Branch, double room £16.50 (143CNY)
  This is a new hotel with helpful, friendly staff and clean rooms. The location isn't perfect but it's in easy walking distance of lots of the main places in town including the riverside with all its bars and a short taxi ride away from the train station. We extended our stay here with no problems and had room service every day, as well as a decent breakfast included. Lots of Chinese business people and couples on mini breaks staying here (maybe it was the Valentine's weekend).

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See more from VISITS in China:

Guangzhou • Guilin • Yangshuo • Guiyang

⭐

Train travel

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VISITS: WE WENT OUT FOR HOT POT WITH TWO STUDENTS WE MET ON A TRAIN IN CHINA

Crowded, mental, smelly, everyone's eating gross food, spitting, rubbish everywhere, people are sitting in your seat—is it that bad? We found out what train travel in China is really like. Our train pulled in to Kunming city at 9pm in the evening. We had been on it for well over ten hours and during that time had experienced a spectrum of strange emotions from the moment we bumbled on board, jamming through the crowded carriage to get to our seats, stressed with big bags and stared at by everyone.

We were quickly warmed by the simple offer of help from fellow passengers who made room for us, took our bags from our backs and stashed them up high in the luggage rack. China does this: it forces emotions, pushing outsiders to question and challenge their own staid social conditioning. A scope of pure enraging beautiful madness. The combination of subtleness, gentle shyness and kindness, mixed with gob-smacking ‘what on earth are they up to?’ mind-boggling-ness was all condensed into this one train journey from Guiyang to Kunming.

Our time on the train was evocative of what travelling in China is like. Even when we felt like we had had enough of the masses of people, the strange stares, the unruly train stations and the mutters of laowai (literally meaning 'very foreign'), something wonderful and unexpected always happened to make all of the stress worthwhile.

Nevertheless it can be exhausting—after hours of being cooped up in a carriage with minimal space, being continually eyed by the people opposite us and then falling asleep only to be woken by the old guy across the aisle who thought he would take his chance to sneak a quick snap of us but forgot to turn the flash or shutter noise off (see above, there he is checking out the picture he's just taken)—you tend to wonder "What am I doing?" But then the little girl who had been staring in fear for a good few hours began to warm to us and we played with her toys together, she'd tell us about them, swapping languages as we played. Towards to final hour of the journey, the fully booked train had emptied out somewhat and a young guy had started a conversation with us about Animal Crossing: New Leaf, which we were playing on our 3DS. The conversation developed to include the guy sat next to him, also a student, who helped with the gaps in English. We spoke about our travels and life in England, fellow passengers bubblingly curious, blatantly listening in, clearly desperate to hear more about what these two pale-faced outsiders were doing on their train. We showed them our British passports; neither of them had been outside of China. The man in the seat behind them, unable to keep his interest under wraps any longer, turned around and lent right over the seat back to have a good look at them too. We showed them what Facebook and Twitter looks like; we spoke about Baidu and about how Facebook wasn’t allowed in their country; they were as eager to know more about our lives as we were eager to know more about them and their lives in China.

Our two new mates were strangers to each other. One, let's call him Johnny, was from Yulin – he said it wasn't a nice place. He had a girlfriend but wanted a girl with blue eyes - "like yours," he mentioned innocently. He had dreams of going to other places. The other young guy was also a student, quieter, glasses-wearing and more geeky but very eager to chat. A third guy also joined in. Older than the two students, he was a political lecturer at Kunming University. He seemed to be bursting with ideas and the unsatiated thirst to travel and see more of the world, his strained face and mumbling of "it’s difficult" felt like an allusion to the fact that his job as a political lecturer in a country where freedom in politics is not exactly a given did not allow him to teach the ideas he wanted to, and a wife and children now meant that his dreams of other places were just pipe dreams, long-distance commuting every weekend home from his job in Kunming to see them. We had met him on a Sunday evening travelling to Kunming for his week of work ahead. By the time the train pulled into Kunming we had made plans. The four of us (minus the lecturer whom the lads didn’t invite) were off for dinner together. They physically took our bags out of our hands, even our precious rucksack with everything important inside it – laptops, passports, iPad, GoPro, money – and we trusted them.

Confidently pushing past all of the taxi touts and out into the city, this was it, our new gang together. The younger guy with round glasses phoned our hotel to let them know we would be checking in late. This was amazing. These guys didn’t even know each other and here we all were, sorting out plans and going to dinner with two alien Westerners they'd met on a train. This kind of thing would rarely happen in the UK because of sheer British awkwardness and stuffy social conventions, but these guys – let's reiterate, strangers to each other – were open and inviting: another incredible instance of the kindness of Chinese hospitality. They boys warned us against pickpockets in the area and led us via Baidu maps to a hot pot (火锅, huo guo) restaurant, the kind of place we would want try but wouldn't because there would be no English nor would we understand how it worked. We had tried this kind of communal eating thing in Korea and it often ended in a disastrous dinner. They explained the set-up of the restaurant to us and we tried to follow their instructions: choosing dishes out of fridges and from a long table, taking them back to your seats and plopping them into either the red spicy side of the hot pot or the more herbal "cooling" side.

We were seated by a giggling young waitress who helped us stash our backpack burdens. The staff were obviously excited about us being there and asked our new mates if they could have their picture take with us. Unlike the train, this was fun: it was like we were famous. The girls who worked at the restaurant were nervous when it came to actually taking the pictures, so we had to encourage the more fearful to come out of their hiding places and join in. Everyone was enjoying the experience of being mixed up in each other's worlds. We sat and shared the hot pot together and sipped beer, a practice which we couldn't quite grasp: it seemed that we had to drink in shots, and only when others had their glasses full. The thing was though that after a long day stuck on a train we were thirsty and, combined with the spicy food, the beer was going down too quickly. It became painful to wait for the next shot of cool bubbly lager and it didn’t seem like the done thing to pour ourselves another cup. Chinese and British drinking etiquette differ wildly.

Over dinner we chatted together, their English was decent, and with a little help of Baidu Translate were able to have full conversations about their lives, the music they like, Jackie Chan films, what countries we had been to, where we are going, what England is like, what we are doing, who we are. It felt like they had barely ever had the chance to talk to someone from outside of their world—we definitely hadn’t had the chance to sit down with young Chinese people and talk to them about their lives. Johnny however did mention an English teacher at university whom he liked because he was Welsh and swore a lot.

Our new friends were aware that in China people weren't allowed to do certain things that in the West we were allowed to do. They were knowledgeable and open and yet they seemed happy and under no illusions. Both of them were heading to Dali on the bus to hang out with their respective friends; it was the summer holidays in China and Dali seemed to be the place to go in Yunnan Province to have fun. They both planned on getting the overnight bus from Kunming which was going to leave at 11pm – all of this after being on the train all day. In the UK a journey of this length would be nigh on unheard of, which gave us a hint as to what it is like to live in such an enormous country. Dali attracts many Western backpackers who head there to take in the natural beauty of Yunnan, meet up with other travellers and party (similarly to also-famous Yangshuo) and that seemed to be exactly what was attracting the young Chinese students there too. The guys told us they were going to Dali to meet different people and have fun, both of them had groups of friends they had plans to meet up with when they arrived. On the train they'd mentioned their plans in front of the lecturer who laughed and said to us, "They have a foreigner street there!"

The time came for Johnny and Glasses to catch their bus. We swapped Weibo names, seeing as being friends on Facebook was a no-go, and they put us in a cab to our hotel and waved us off. Neither of them swapped details and both went in different directions: it was just another day and a shared experience that happened and it was nice and that was it. What a whirlwind of a day and what an insight into Chinese life we had been a part of without even exploring Kunming. Travelling by train is by far the best way to see a country, side by side with locals, taking in the views of the land and meeting new people.

Now it was time to actually see the city.

REBECCA ALICE SAUNDERS 🙋

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See more from VISITS in China:

Guangzhou • Guilin • Yangshuo • Guiyang • Kunming

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🌭 THINGS THAT ARE TASTY — GUIYANG

A sort of under-construction, maintenance-being-carried-out, don't-touch, wet-paint vibe permeates the air in Guiyang. Beneath the fumes and the building sites, the lanes of highways and concrete sky walkways is something exciting. There is a trendy, youthful vibe to the city. Small turns off of main streets in the evening uncover contemporary bars and side-street restaurants, their glowing warmth inviting us in to be greeted by rooms full of young twenty-somethings sipping on drinks, eating and telling tales of their day.

The Italian restaurant we decided to try out on Sunday night was owned by a local guy who spoke fluent English; he had worked in Italy and made pizza as good as you can probably get in China. The night we stopped by they were hosting an upscale singles night for the young and free of Guiyang to network and flirt with appropriate suitors. Clearly there was something going on here—this isn't the image of China that is poured down our throats in the West: isn't China a big scary place with the crazy uncouth tourists who go around in large groups? Well, China is becoming something else, it is evolving and so are the people. The young generation are testing their boundaries, taking cues from net-disseminated trends and trying out new things – like a masked ball-themed date night at an Italian restaurant, for instance.

Aside from the modern musings of the youth hanging outside malls with bubble tea in hand, Guiyang's pavements are also filled with street snacking. There's a plethora of street food stalls all over the city cooking up delicious and crazily cheap Chinese dishes. It would be easy just to spend the day in Guiyang walking the streets and eating, which is... pretty much what we did.

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🍴 Buddhist temple vegetarian restaurant - 禅悦酥陀
Serving delicate vegetarian food from a non-English picture menu, monks run this restaurant from the adjoining temple. More expensive that a regular temple-based vegetarian buffet, but with a much higher quality of food. Some dishes are so tasty they actually melted in the mouth: mock fish, for instance, or the lotus root with that fiery sauce all over. The staff were very smiley and helped us with choosing our plates. Families sat around and had early dinners together.

From our seat upstairs next to an open window we sat and watched the puzzle of cars and motorbikes shift and meander together in the rush hour buzz below. The surroundings were beautifully and carefully decorated and the food was for real one of the best vegetarian meals we ate in Asia.

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🍴 Italian
Down a dark alleyway behind an area spotted with a few intriguing bars this Italian style restaurant is a strange bubble tucked away from buzz of the city. The night we visited they were hosting an attempt at an upscale black-and-white, masquerade ball singles party upstairs, even though they were officially closed the owner kindly accommodated our pizza craving. With a glass of red wine (served at actual room-temperature, which is unusual in Asia) in hand we enjoyed the margherita: fairly flavourful but a little overpriced. Go if you're desperate for pizza and fancy some intimate off-beat surroundings.

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🍴 Kong coffee
What a strange place. we were attracted to this coffee shop because of a Japanese anime theme that seemed to glint through the window, and sure enough when we turned up for a coffee hit there was an actual cosplay photoshoot happening in the front room, shelves of yuri manga everywhere. The coffee was crazy expensive (around £5.00 seriously) as it so often is in China, being seen as an aspirational luxury thing, but it was single origin and had this incredible rich purple-y taste. Worth the price tag.

It was decorated like an old English house which was odd for us being from England, but it was cute even though there was a Twin Peaks Black Lodge vibe about it. Or like being in one of those anime where it's like one guy for some reason living in a stately mansion somewhere and all the other characters are female maids. Half things that are tasty, half things that are weird.

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☞ Peep our VISITS series post on Guiyang, a whirlwind stopover in the city〜 ☜

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🍴Street Food
Without a doubt, the most exciting food for the taste buds in Guiyang was being sold by street vendors. The locals selling their tasty things were so happy and cheery when we approached their stalls after following the out of this world aromas often wafting from them. The snacks we bought were so crazily cheap and full of flavour.

Those big brown muffin-looking things are 發粿 fa gao, sweet stodgy creations of dough. And the round somewhat pancake-esque things are indeed pancakes of the red bean paste-filled variety (豆沙饼, dou sha bing). Both are delicious in a mouth-filling sugary-savoury way. The really deep fried looking thing served to us in a plastic bag, however, was interesting as it contained what appeared to be red bean paste, but unsweetened—very unusual.

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🍴 Broad Street Bakery
There are tons of bakeries all over Asia selling unfamiliar takes on Western classics. Broad Street Bakery is one of these. The bread was the closest to authentic bread we had for a long time at this point, and about half the price we would pay for it at home. We picked up a bagel with camembert and cranberries in to keep us going until the next meal and a whole baguette for the long train journey to Kunming. Places like this are a safety net when super hungry.

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REBECCA ALICE SAUNDERS

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🍖 More things that are tasty from… 🍖
HONG KONG (🇭🇰) • GUANGZHOU (🇨🇳) • GUILIN (🇨🇳) • YANGSHUO (🇨🇳)

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