2005–2009 Chinese Internet Memes

"非主流" (Non-Mainstream / Alternative) was the defining youth subculture of China's first internet generation. In the mid-2000s, as broadband reached Chinese homes, millions of teenagers discovered they could craft online identities separate from their real-world selves. The "非主流" look — spiky dyed hair, heavy eyeliner, oversized glasses, dark filters, and melancholic text overlays — was a deliberate rejection of the clean, conformist aesthetic expected by parents and teachers. The movement drew heavily from Japanese Visual Kei and Western emo/goth subcultures, filtered through QQ photo albums and early social networks like Renren. It peaked around 2007-2009, when dedicated "非主流" photo studios existed in every Chinese city. Today, "非主流" is viewed with nostalgia-tinged cringe — a reminder of a more innocent, pre-algorithm internet era when self-expression felt genuinely rebellious. The aesthetic has even experienced a minor revival as Gen-Z rediscovers and remixes Y2K-era styles.

Complex, symbol-heavy online writing style that peaked in 2006-2009. Characters mixed Chinese, numbers, symbols, and special characters in intricate combinations, primarily used in QQ profiles and status updates.

An exaggerated early-internet expression for laughing extremely hard. Emerging around 2007, part of a family of hyperbolic reactions that became standard in online humor and remain recognizable meme templates.

晒 (shài, to sun-dry / to air out) is a verb whose semantic expansion perfectly mirrors the rise of Chinese social media. Originally meaning to spread things under sunlight to dry (晒衣服, 晒被子), it extended around 2007 to the digital realm: 晒工资 (post your pay stub online), 晒幸福 (post couple photos), 晒娃 (flood the feed with baby pictures), 晒美食, 晒旅游. The metaphor is elegant: just as you air out laundry in public view, you air out your life on social media. But sun-drying is practical and modest — you're not showing off laundry, just airing it. 晒 preserves this ambiguity: is someone genuinely sharing or flexing? The term refuses to distinguish. Every 晒 is simultaneously sharing and showing off. The word has become so fundamental to Chinese internet vocabulary that discussing social media behavior without it is almost impossible.

Literally 'going to buy soy sauce.' In a 2008 TV interview about a controversial entertainment scandal, a man on the street responded to the reporter: 'I'm just here to buy soy sauce — none of my business.' The clip went massively viral as the perfect deflection. Now used whenever you want to signal total non-involvement: I'm just passing through, don't involve me, I have groceries to buy.

In 2008, a man died in police custody in Yunnan province. Officials claimed he died while playing hide-and-seek. Internet users mocked this absurd explanation by inventing increasingly ridiculous alternatives — the most popular being 'he died doing push-ups.' The phrase became a template for any official explanation so implausible it insults your intelligence. When authorities offer an explanation that defies belief, you say they're 'doing push-ups again.'

Literally 'human flesh search' — the practice of internet users collectively investigating someone to uncover their real identity, address, workplace, and personal details. Emerging around 2008, unlike algorithmic search, "人肉搜索" uses crowds of humans pooling information. It has been used to expose corrupt officials and animal abusers, but also to harass and destroy ordinary people over minor controversies. It's one of the most powerful and dangerous forces of the Chinese internet.

A phonetic adaptation of 'smart' representing a subculture that emerged from non-mainstream aesthetics. Emerging around 2008, characterized by distinctive fashion, makeup, and online presence—often used as a cultural marker of early 2000s internet youth.

A censorship-avoiding internet exclamation derived from "wo le ge cao" (I lay in a trough). Emerging around 2008, used to express shock, frustration, or complaint while technically avoiding profanity filters. Became a standard expression in early 2000s online culture.

In 2009, a mysterious post appeared on a World of Warcraft forum with just one line: 'Jia Junpeng, your mom is calling you home for dinner.' Nobody knew who Jia Junpeng was — but millions upvoted it anyway. It became a viral sensation representing collective nostalgia, internet absurdism, and the universal childhood experience of being dragged away from your game. By 2015 it had cemented itself as a cultural touchstone invoked whenever someone wants to signal shared generational memory or gently mock someone for being lost in the online world.

In early 2009, a man died in a Yunnan detention center. Officials stated he died while playing hide-and-seek (躲猫猫) with other inmates and accidentally hit his head on a wall. The explanation was so absurd that it became a national meme overnight. 'Hide-and-seek' became shorthand for any suspicious death in custody given an implausible official explanation — a dark, bitter joke about accountability.