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Asking for Advice : If I start a YouTube Channel, how many subscribers and view counts must I get to make it a profitable venture?
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I am also curious how much Li Ziqi is making from her 58m subscribers worldwide. I do like her YouTube videos. Very refreshing as it is in a rural setting. If a simple China village girl can do it, I am sure, being more educated and creative than her, I can do even better.
Behind the scenes with Li Ziqi, the mysterious Chinese internet celebrity with 58 million fans
amp.scmp.com
On screen, Li Ziqi’s life seems to defy the rules of reality.
The Chinese internet celebrity is famous for her videos in which she performs the work of a farmer with the grace of a fairy. Her fans on social media platforms, both in China and internationally, including YouTube and Weibo, number more than 58 million.
In one video, she picks flowers on horseback in a red cape, evoking the image of Red Riding Hood. In another, she builds a bamboo furniture set using traditional Chinese techniques.
While the videos have a cinematic quality to them, it’s her deep knowledge of food, nature, and Chinese culture that impresses viewers. She appears to make everything from scratch, going as far as hatching baby ducklings and raising them just to make a sauce from egg yolk.
Li rarely speaks in her videos, and when she does, it’s in the local dialect of her home province, Sichuan.
Li Ziqi’s videos have a cinematic quality to them. Photo: Li Ziqi
She also seldom gives interviews. But in our exclusive interview with her, she opens up to us about her life, craft and early struggles as a one-woman band.
“In today’s society, many people feel stressed,” Li says. “So when they watch my videos at the end of a busy day, I want them to relax and experience something nice, to take away some of their anxiety and stress.”
Li grew up with her grandparents in a rural part of Sichuan province in southwestern China.
She says she moved in with them after her
stepmother mistreated her.
When she was 14, she went to the city in search of work, but she decided to return to the countryside in 2012 to take care of her grandmother.
Four years later, she began filming her life there.
“When I worked in the city, it was about survival,” Li says. “Now when I work in the countryside, I feel like I’m truly living.”
Li’s videos depict her and her grandmother as they go about their daily lives in their modest home. She is often seen preparing elaborate meals for her grandmother using basic ingredients and traditional techniques.
“I simply want people in the city to know where their food comes from,” Li says. “A teacher friend once told me about some students who thought rice grew on trees. So I want kids in the city to know where their food comes from.”
Li Ziqi harvests ears of corn in a video, in which she whips up a spread of corn dishes. Photo: Li Ziqi
Li is part of a growing field of online video makers in China. The market is competitive, worth an estimated US$6.5 billion and with a potential audience of hundreds of millions.
Video channels depicting rural life are a dime a dozen. One only needs to scroll through TikTok and Kuaishou, a Chinese video app, to find clips of people catching fish with their bare hands, farmers fashioning clothes from burlap sacks and campers going full MacGyver in the wild.
But while many of these videos are fast-paced and cut with quick edits, Li’s videos have an ethereal, cinematic quality to them.
“I think this is just how things happened,” she says. “At first, when I did everything myself, I’d set up a tripod, film and then press stop. That’s why all my shots are on a tripod and don’t move, and that’s why my videos are still filmed this way.”
In her videos, Li often prepares elaborate meals for her grandmother using basic ingredients and traditional techniques. Photo: Li Ziqi
Her detractors question the one-woman-band premise, but Li brushes it off as sour grapes.
Two years ago, she uploaded a behind-the-scenes video showing how she used to operate on her own.
Nowadays, she has help from a videographer and assistant, but she still directs all her videos. During our interview, which Li’s crew filmed, she did not hesitate to give precise instructions on which angle to shoot from and where to stand.
She even suggested pouring tea for me while I said hello to her on camera (that shot ended up on the cutting floor because it felt too staged).
“I’ve always been the director of my videos,” Li says, “from what to film and how to film to how each shot is framed. Often, my videographer only knows what he’s filming on the day of the shoot.”
Video channels in China depicting rural life are a dime a dozen, but unlike Li Ziqi's, many of these videos are fast-paced and cut with quick edits. Photo: Li Ziqi
The poise that Li displays in her well-polished videos belies a playfulness and spontaneity that only comes out when the camera is off.
While we were hanging out on a bridge, Li tried to pluck a lotus flower that was growing an arm’s length away.
When she couldn’t reach it, she got down on all fours before completely falling on her stomach, laughing and joking in Sichuanese as she desperately tried to touch the flower.
And while Li never utters more than a few words in her videos, off camera, she can be loquacious.
While we were waiting to set up for the shoot, she went on for a good five to 10 minutes on the subject of bamboo.
Once the cameras were ready, she composed herself again.
Viewers often ask if her ethereal, cinematic videos are real. Photo: Li Ziqi
Viewers often ask whether her videos are real. Indeed, her final pieces are heavily edited — even our interview footage came retouched with heavy filters — but after spending time with her, I believe the question might be moot.
While Li’s videos allow her audience to indulge in a fantasy world, many of the techniques she portrays are grounded in real-world knowledge and come from a genuine desire for the pastoral ideal. The only thing she has sculpted is her on-screen persona.
“I’m just filming my life,” she says. “Or rather, I’m just filming the life that I want.”
This article was originally published on Goldthread . Follow Goldthread on Facebook, YouTube and Instagram for more stories about Chinese culture.
Behind the scenes with Li Ziqi, the mysterious Chinese internet celebrity with 58 million fans
amp.scmp.com
The Chinese internet celebrity is famous for her videos in which she performs the work of a farmer with the grace of a fairy. Her fans on social media platforms, both in China and internationally, including YouTube and Weibo, number more than 58 million.
In one video, she picks flowers on horseback in a red cape, evoking the image of Red Riding Hood. In another, she builds a bamboo furniture set using traditional Chinese techniques.
While the videos have a cinematic quality to them, it’s her deep knowledge of food, nature, and Chinese culture that impresses viewers. She appears to make everything from scratch, going as far as hatching baby ducklings and raising them just to make a sauce from egg yolk.
Li rarely speaks in her videos, and when she does, it’s in the local dialect of her home province, Sichuan.
She also seldom gives interviews. But in our exclusive interview with her, she opens up to us about her life, craft and early struggles as a one-woman band.
“In today’s society, many people feel stressed,” Li says. “So when they watch my videos at the end of a busy day, I want them to relax and experience something nice, to take away some of their anxiety and stress.”
Li grew up with her grandparents in a rural part of Sichuan province in southwestern China.
She says she moved in with them after her
stepmother mistreated her.
When she was 14, she went to the city in search of work, but she decided to return to the countryside in 2012 to take care of her grandmother.
Four years later, she began filming her life there.
“When I worked in the city, it was about survival,” Li says. “Now when I work in the countryside, I feel like I’m truly living.”
Li’s videos depict her and her grandmother as they go about their daily lives in their modest home. She is often seen preparing elaborate meals for her grandmother using basic ingredients and traditional techniques.
“I simply want people in the city to know where their food comes from,” Li says. “A teacher friend once told me about some students who thought rice grew on trees. So I want kids in the city to know where their food comes from.”
Li Ziqi harvests ears of corn in a video, in which she whips up a spread of corn dishes. Photo: Li Ziqi
Li is part of a growing field of online video makers in China. The market is competitive, worth an estimated US$6.5 billion and with a potential audience of hundreds of millions.
Video channels depicting rural life are a dime a dozen. One only needs to scroll through TikTok and Kuaishou, a Chinese video app, to find clips of people catching fish with their bare hands, farmers fashioning clothes from burlap sacks and campers going full MacGyver in the wild.
But while many of these videos are fast-paced and cut with quick edits, Li’s videos have an ethereal, cinematic quality to them.
“I think this is just how things happened,” she says. “At first, when I did everything myself, I’d set up a tripod, film and then press stop. That’s why all my shots are on a tripod and don’t move, and that’s why my videos are still filmed this way.”
In her videos, Li often prepares elaborate meals for her grandmother using basic ingredients and traditional techniques. Photo: Li Ziqi
Her detractors question the one-woman-band premise, but Li brushes it off as sour grapes.
Two years ago, she uploaded a behind-the-scenes video showing how she used to operate on her own.
Nowadays, she has help from a videographer and assistant, but she still directs all her videos. During our interview, which Li’s crew filmed, she did not hesitate to give precise instructions on which angle to shoot from and where to stand.
She even suggested pouring tea for me while I said hello to her on camera (that shot ended up on the cutting floor because it felt too staged).
“I’ve always been the director of my videos,” Li says, “from what to film and how to film to how each shot is framed. Often, my videographer only knows what he’s filming on the day of the shoot.”
Video channels in China depicting rural life are a dime a dozen, but unlike Li Ziqi's, many of these videos are fast-paced and cut with quick edits. Photo: Li Ziqi
The poise that Li displays in her well-polished videos belies a playfulness and spontaneity that only comes out when the camera is off.
While we were hanging out on a bridge, Li tried to pluck a lotus flower that was growing an arm’s length away.
When she couldn’t reach it, she got down on all fours before completely falling on her stomach, laughing and joking in Sichuanese as she desperately tried to touch the flower.
And while Li never utters more than a few words in her videos, off camera, she can be loquacious.
While we were waiting to set up for the shoot, she went on for a good five to 10 minutes on the subject of bamboo.
Once the cameras were ready, she composed herself again.
Viewers often ask if her ethereal, cinematic videos are real. Photo: Li Ziqi
Viewers often ask whether her videos are real. Indeed, her final pieces are heavily edited — even our interview footage came retouched with heavy filters — but after spending time with her, I believe the question might be moot.
While Li’s videos allow her audience to indulge in a fantasy world, many of the techniques she portrays are grounded in real-world knowledge and come from a genuine desire for the pastoral ideal. The only thing she has sculpted is her on-screen persona.
“I’m just filming my life,” she says. “Or rather, I’m just filming the life that I want.”
This article was originally published on Goldthread . Follow Goldthread on Facebook, YouTube and Instagram for more stories about Chinese culture.
Though she denies that she makes US$24m a year, I am sure it must be substantial. Even 10% of that I am comfortable.
https://amp.scmp.com/news/china/soc...-star-li-ziqi-dismisses-claim-she-makes-us24m
https://amp.scmp.com/news/china/soc...-star-li-ziqi-dismisses-claim-she-makes-us24m
So little?
can seek advice from ghib ojisan. he’s popular both in sg and jp.
I don't really appreciate his videos. He's very amateurish. And being an untidy man as he is, his videos are jerky and not well made.
can include your daughter in your channel. youtube is very popular among parents and babysitters who need it to captivate their kids while they’re busy. top 1 and 3 earners are kids. they branch into product sponsorships and their own brands and products to generate more revenue.
Her whole youtube is fake... everything is setup for her to act.. knn.. really pui on China
I am also curious how much Li Ziqi is making from her 58m subscribers worldwide. I do like her YouTube videos. Very refreshing as it is in a rural setting. If a simple China village girl can do it, I am sure, being more educated and creative than her, I can do even better.
Behind the scenes with Li Ziqi, the mysterious Chinese internet celebrity with 58 million fans
amp.scmp.com
On screen, Li Ziqi’s life seems to defy the rules of reality.
The Chinese internet celebrity is famous for her videos in which she performs the work of a farmer with the grace of a fairy. Her fans on social media platforms, both in China and internationally, including YouTube and Weibo, number more than 58 million.
In one video, she picks flowers on horseback in a red cape, evoking the image of Red Riding Hood. In another, she builds a bamboo furniture set using traditional Chinese techniques.
While the videos have a cinematic quality to them, it’s her deep knowledge of food, nature, and Chinese culture that impresses viewers. She appears to make everything from scratch, going as far as hatching baby ducklings and raising them just to make a sauce from egg yolk.
Li rarely speaks in her videos, and when she does, it’s in the local dialect of her home province, Sichuan.
Li Ziqi’s videos have a cinematic quality to them. Photo: Li Ziqi
She also seldom gives interviews. But in our exclusive interview with her, she opens up to us about her life, craft and early struggles as a one-woman band.
“In today’s society, many people feel stressed,” Li says. “So when they watch my videos at the end of a busy day, I want them to relax and experience something nice, to take away some of their anxiety and stress.”
Li grew up with her grandparents in a rural part of Sichuan province in southwestern China.
She says she moved in with them after her
stepmother mistreated her.
When she was 14, she went to the city in search of work, but she decided to return to the countryside in 2012 to take care of her grandmother.
Four years later, she began filming her life there.
“When I worked in the city, it was about survival,” Li says. “Now when I work in the countryside, I feel like I’m truly living.”
Li’s videos depict her and her grandmother as they go about their daily lives in their modest home. She is often seen preparing elaborate meals for her grandmother using basic ingredients and traditional techniques.
“I simply want people in the city to know where their food comes from,” Li says. “A teacher friend once told me about some students who thought rice grew on trees. So I want kids in the city to know where their food comes from.”
Li Ziqi harvests ears of corn in a video, in which she whips up a spread of corn dishes. Photo: Li Ziqi
Li is part of a growing field of online video makers in China. The market is competitive, worth an estimated US$6.5 billion and with a potential audience of hundreds of millions.
Video channels depicting rural life are a dime a dozen. One only needs to scroll through TikTok and Kuaishou, a Chinese video app, to find clips of people catching fish with their bare hands, farmers fashioning clothes from burlap sacks and campers going full MacGyver in the wild.
But while many of these videos are fast-paced and cut with quick edits, Li’s videos have an ethereal, cinematic quality to them.
“I think this is just how things happened,” she says. “At first, when I did everything myself, I’d set up a tripod, film and then press stop. That’s why all my shots are on a tripod and don’t move, and that’s why my videos are still filmed this way.”
In her videos, Li often prepares elaborate meals for her grandmother using basic ingredients and traditional techniques. Photo: Li Ziqi
Her detractors question the one-woman-band premise, but Li brushes it off as sour grapes.
Two years ago, she uploaded a behind-the-scenes video showing how she used to operate on her own.
Nowadays, she has help from a videographer and assistant, but she still directs all her videos. During our interview, which Li’s crew filmed, she did not hesitate to give precise instructions on which angle to shoot from and where to stand.
She even suggested pouring tea for me while I said hello to her on camera (that shot ended up on the cutting floor because it felt too staged).
“I’ve always been the director of my videos,” Li says, “from what to film and how to film to how each shot is framed. Often, my videographer only knows what he’s filming on the day of the shoot.”
Video channels in China depicting rural life are a dime a dozen, but unlike Li Ziqi's, many of these videos are fast-paced and cut with quick edits. Photo: Li Ziqi
The poise that Li displays in her well-polished videos belies a playfulness and spontaneity that only comes out when the camera is off.
While we were hanging out on a bridge, Li tried to pluck a lotus flower that was growing an arm’s length away.
When she couldn’t reach it, she got down on all fours before completely falling on her stomach, laughing and joking in Sichuanese as she desperately tried to touch the flower.
And while Li never utters more than a few words in her videos, off camera, she can be loquacious.
While we were waiting to set up for the shoot, she went on for a good five to 10 minutes on the subject of bamboo.
Once the cameras were ready, she composed herself again.
Viewers often ask if her ethereal, cinematic videos are real. Photo: Li Ziqi
Viewers often ask whether her videos are real. Indeed, her final pieces are heavily edited — even our interview footage came retouched with heavy filters — but after spending time with her, I believe the question might be moot.
While Li’s videos allow her audience to indulge in a fantasy world, many of the techniques she portrays are grounded in real-world knowledge and come from a genuine desire for the pastoral ideal. The only thing she has sculpted is her on-screen persona.
“I’m just filming my life,” she says. “Or rather, I’m just filming the life that I want.”
This article was originally published on Goldthread . Follow Goldthread on Facebook, YouTube and Instagram for more stories about Chinese culture.
he dives into it and gets started, better than many sinkies who talk but not walk. and over time he’ll improve with comments and feedbacks. that’s how the top earner, an 8-year old kid started. he opened presents in front of a video cam when he was 3, and the simple videos in the beginning led to bigger things when viewership took off.
You can bet the CCP is behind her and helping her with content.I am also curious how much Li Ziqi is making from her 58m subscribers worldwide. I do like her YouTube videos. Very refreshing as it is in a rural setting. If a simple China village girl can do it, I am sure, being more educated and creative than her, I can do even better.
Behind the scenes with Li Ziqi, the mysterious Chinese internet celebrity with 58 million fans
amp.scmp.com
On screen, Li Ziqi’s life seems to defy the rules of reality.
The Chinese internet celebrity is famous for her videos in which she performs the work of a farmer with the grace of a fairy. Her fans on social media platforms, both in China and internationally, including YouTube and Weibo, number more than 58 million.
In one video, she picks flowers on horseback in a red cape, evoking the image of Red Riding Hood. In another, she builds a bamboo furniture set using traditional Chinese techniques.
While the videos have a cinematic quality to them, it’s her deep knowledge of food, nature, and Chinese culture that impresses viewers. She appears to make everything from scratch, going as far as hatching baby ducklings and raising them just to make a sauce from egg yolk.
Li rarely speaks in her videos, and when she does, it’s in the local dialect of her home province, Sichuan.
Li Ziqi’s videos have a cinematic quality to them. Photo: Li Ziqi
She also seldom gives interviews. But in our exclusive interview with her, she opens up to us about her life, craft and early struggles as a one-woman band.
“In today’s society, many people feel stressed,” Li says. “So when they watch my videos at the end of a busy day, I want them to relax and experience something nice, to take away some of their anxiety and stress.”
Li grew up with her grandparents in a rural part of Sichuan province in southwestern China.
She says she moved in with them after her
stepmother mistreated her.
When she was 14, she went to the city in search of work, but she decided to return to the countryside in 2012 to take care of her grandmother.
Four years later, she began filming her life there.
“When I worked in the city, it was about survival,” Li says. “Now when I work in the countryside, I feel like I’m truly living.”
Li’s videos depict her and her grandmother as they go about their daily lives in their modest home. She is often seen preparing elaborate meals for her grandmother using basic ingredients and traditional techniques.
“I simply want people in the city to know where their food comes from,” Li says. “A teacher friend once told me about some students who thought rice grew on trees. So I want kids in the city to know where their food comes from.”
Li Ziqi harvests ears of corn in a video, in which she whips up a spread of corn dishes. Photo: Li Ziqi
Li is part of a growing field of online video makers in China. The market is competitive, worth an estimated US$6.5 billion and with a potential audience of hundreds of millions.
Video channels depicting rural life are a dime a dozen. One only needs to scroll through TikTok and Kuaishou, a Chinese video app, to find clips of people catching fish with their bare hands, farmers fashioning clothes from burlap sacks and campers going full MacGyver in the wild.
But while many of these videos are fast-paced and cut with quick edits, Li’s videos have an ethereal, cinematic quality to them.
“I think this is just how things happened,” she says. “At first, when I did everything myself, I’d set up a tripod, film and then press stop. That’s why all my shots are on a tripod and don’t move, and that’s why my videos are still filmed this way.”
In her videos, Li often prepares elaborate meals for her grandmother using basic ingredients and traditional techniques. Photo: Li Ziqi
Her detractors question the one-woman-band premise, but Li brushes it off as sour grapes.
Two years ago, she uploaded a behind-the-scenes video showing how she used to operate on her own.
Nowadays, she has help from a videographer and assistant, but she still directs all her videos. During our interview, which Li’s crew filmed, she did not hesitate to give precise instructions on which angle to shoot from and where to stand.
She even suggested pouring tea for me while I said hello to her on camera (that shot ended up on the cutting floor because it felt too staged).
“I’ve always been the director of my videos,” Li says, “from what to film and how to film to how each shot is framed. Often, my videographer only knows what he’s filming on the day of the shoot.”
Video channels in China depicting rural life are a dime a dozen, but unlike Li Ziqi's, many of these videos are fast-paced and cut with quick edits. Photo: Li Ziqi
The poise that Li displays in her well-polished videos belies a playfulness and spontaneity that only comes out when the camera is off.
While we were hanging out on a bridge, Li tried to pluck a lotus flower that was growing an arm’s length away.
When she couldn’t reach it, she got down on all fours before completely falling on her stomach, laughing and joking in Sichuanese as she desperately tried to touch the flower.
And while Li never utters more than a few words in her videos, off camera, she can be loquacious.
While we were waiting to set up for the shoot, she went on for a good five to 10 minutes on the subject of bamboo.
Once the cameras were ready, she composed herself again.
Viewers often ask if her ethereal, cinematic videos are real. Photo: Li Ziqi
Viewers often ask whether her videos are real. Indeed, her final pieces are heavily edited — even our interview footage came retouched with heavy filters — but after spending time with her, I believe the question might be moot.
While Li’s videos allow her audience to indulge in a fantasy world, many of the techniques she portrays are grounded in real-world knowledge and come from a genuine desire for the pastoral ideal. The only thing she has sculpted is her on-screen persona.
“I’m just filming my life,” she says. “Or rather, I’m just filming the life that I want.”
This article was originally published on Goldthread . Follow Goldthread on Facebook, YouTube and Instagram for more stories about Chinese culture.
What will be your nick online?
Auntie Helen?
Auntie Helen?
Don't be fooled by her.I am also curious how much Li Ziqi is making from her 58m subscribers worldwide. I do like her YouTube videos. Very refreshing as it is in a rural setting. If a simple China village girl can do it, I am sure, being more educated and creative than her, I can do even better.
Behind the scenes with Li Ziqi, the mysterious Chinese internet celebrity with 58 million fans
amp.scmp.com
On screen, Li Ziqi’s life seems to defy the rules of reality.
The Chinese internet celebrity is famous for her videos in which she performs the work of a farmer with the grace of a fairy. Her fans on social media platforms, both in China and internationally, including YouTube and Weibo, number more than 58 million.
In one video, she picks flowers on horseback in a red cape, evoking the image of Red Riding Hood. In another, she builds a bamboo furniture set using traditional Chinese techniques.
While the videos have a cinematic quality to them, it’s her deep knowledge of food, nature, and Chinese culture that impresses viewers. She appears to make everything from scratch, going as far as hatching baby ducklings and raising them just to make a sauce from egg yolk.
Li rarely speaks in her videos, and when she does, it’s in the local dialect of her home province, Sichuan.
Li Ziqi’s videos have a cinematic quality to them. Photo: Li Ziqi
She also seldom gives interviews. But in our exclusive interview with her, she opens up to us about her life, craft and early struggles as a one-woman band.
“In today’s society, many people feel stressed,” Li says. “So when they watch my videos at the end of a busy day, I want them to relax and experience something nice, to take away some of their anxiety and stress.”
Li grew up with her grandparents in a rural part of Sichuan province in southwestern China.
She says she moved in with them after her
stepmother mistreated her.
When she was 14, she went to the city in search of work, but she decided to return to the countryside in 2012 to take care of her grandmother.
Four years later, she began filming her life there.
“When I worked in the city, it was about survival,” Li says. “Now when I work in the countryside, I feel like I’m truly living.”
Li’s videos depict her and her grandmother as they go about their daily lives in their modest home. She is often seen preparing elaborate meals for her grandmother using basic ingredients and traditional techniques.
“I simply want people in the city to know where their food comes from,” Li says. “A teacher friend once told me about some students who thought rice grew on trees. So I want kids in the city to know where their food comes from.”
Li Ziqi harvests ears of corn in a video, in which she whips up a spread of corn dishes. Photo: Li Ziqi
Li is part of a growing field of online video makers in China. The market is competitive, worth an estimated US$6.5 billion and with a potential audience of hundreds of millions.
Video channels depicting rural life are a dime a dozen. One only needs to scroll through TikTok and Kuaishou, a Chinese video app, to find clips of people catching fish with their bare hands, farmers fashioning clothes from burlap sacks and campers going full MacGyver in the wild.
But while many of these videos are fast-paced and cut with quick edits, Li’s videos have an ethereal, cinematic quality to them.
“I think this is just how things happened,” she says. “At first, when I did everything myself, I’d set up a tripod, film and then press stop. That’s why all my shots are on a tripod and don’t move, and that’s why my videos are still filmed this way.”
In her videos, Li often prepares elaborate meals for her grandmother using basic ingredients and traditional techniques. Photo: Li Ziqi
Her detractors question the one-woman-band premise, but Li brushes it off as sour grapes.
Two years ago, she uploaded a behind-the-scenes video showing how she used to operate on her own.
Nowadays, she has help from a videographer and assistant, but she still directs all her videos. During our interview, which Li’s crew filmed, she did not hesitate to give precise instructions on which angle to shoot from and where to stand.
She even suggested pouring tea for me while I said hello to her on camera (that shot ended up on the cutting floor because it felt too staged).
“I’ve always been the director of my videos,” Li says, “from what to film and how to film to how each shot is framed. Often, my videographer only knows what he’s filming on the day of the shoot.”
Video channels in China depicting rural life are a dime a dozen, but unlike Li Ziqi's, many of these videos are fast-paced and cut with quick edits. Photo: Li Ziqi
The poise that Li displays in her well-polished videos belies a playfulness and spontaneity that only comes out when the camera is off.
While we were hanging out on a bridge, Li tried to pluck a lotus flower that was growing an arm’s length away.
When she couldn’t reach it, she got down on all fours before completely falling on her stomach, laughing and joking in Sichuanese as she desperately tried to touch the flower.
And while Li never utters more than a few words in her videos, off camera, she can be loquacious.
While we were waiting to set up for the shoot, she went on for a good five to 10 minutes on the subject of bamboo.
Once the cameras were ready, she composed herself again.
Viewers often ask if her ethereal, cinematic videos are real. Photo: Li Ziqi
Viewers often ask whether her videos are real. Indeed, her final pieces are heavily edited — even our interview footage came retouched with heavy filters — but after spending time with her, I believe the question might be moot.
While Li’s videos allow her audience to indulge in a fantasy world, many of the techniques she portrays are grounded in real-world knowledge and come from a genuine desire for the pastoral ideal. The only thing she has sculpted is her on-screen persona.
“I’m just filming my life,” she says. “Or rather, I’m just filming the life that I want.”
This article was originally published on Goldthread . Follow Goldthread on Facebook, YouTube and Instagram for more stories about Chinese culture.
She is a propaganda machine for CCPee to encourage jobless people in the cities to return to their villages and become farmers.
She is there to glamorized farming, nothing else.
The high production value of her videos requires a team of professional people with expensive camera gear to achieve. It is definitely not a one-woman-show as she's trying to portray.
She's gotten a lot of flack from real China farmers. Just go to Zhihu and YouTube and see for yourself.
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Does the CCP help those who want to broadcast on charturbate?
The secret backbone of her videos.
You can inquire from the Tiong embassy here.
I'll email them and ask.
YouTube is about individual user created content that is unique,sometimes u find gems that are truly unique,expertise and opinion that u won't find anywhere else offering insights and outlooks and commentary and intellectual talent that u won't find anywhere else....about all kinds of topics from games to movies to history to economics to WWII
.
If u want those mainstream generic garbage with large production teams and what not churning out well polished fluff...
Take ur Chinese lady for example when she first came out and was small time amateur youtuber,u think the big companies and corporate YouTubers would have come up with all that?
And do u really believe that bullshyt that liqiyi or whatever is a one woman band?
Maybe a long long long farking time ago.......
Now she probably needs an accountant to do her taxes.
Maybe a long long long farking time ago.......
Now she probably needs an accountant to do her taxes.
How come YouTube is not banned in China but Tik Tok is banned in China?
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