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I Love Dollars And Other Stories of China
“An absorbing portrait of the go-go years in China . . . Extravagantly funny.” —Jonathan Spence, London Review of Books
An immediate sensation upon publication in China, I Love Dollars is a hilarious send-up of China's love affair with capitalism by one of its most gifted new writers. In the title story, a young man, acutely aware of his filial duty, sets out to secure a prostitute for his father, only to haggle his old man out of a good time. Here, gleefully exposed, are the inanities of everyday life in contemporary China. As penetrating as Kafka, as outrageously funny as Larry David, and with a slangy swagger all Zhu Wen's own, I Love Dollars is priceless.
An immediate sensation upon publication in China, I Love Dollars is a hilarious send-up of China's love affair with capitalism by one of its most gifted new writers. In the title story, a young man, acutely aware of his filial duty, sets out to secure a prostitute for his father, only to haggle his old man out of a good time. Here, gleefully exposed, are the inanities of everyday life in contemporary China. As penetrating as Kafka, as outrageously funny as Larry David, and with a slangy swagger all Zhu Wen's own, I Love Dollars is priceless.
240 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2007
19 people are currently reading
462 people want to read
About the author
Zhu Wen
26 books3 followersLibrarian Note: There is more than one author in the GoodReads database with this name. See this thread for more information.
Born in Fujian (South China) in 1967, Zhu Wen graduated from Nanjing University in 1989. From 1989 to 1994 he worked as an engineer in a thermal power plant, during which time he began writing fiction. Since he became a full-time writer in 1994, his work has been published in many of Mainland China's most prestigious literary magazines, and he has produced several poetry and short story collections, a full-length novel and three films.
Over the course of his writing career, Zhu Wen has established himself as a pivotal figure in Post-Mao Chinese literature, to whom other authors of his and younger generations look for inspiration. His success in recreating on the page the brutal absurdities of contemporary China has turned him into a representative voice of the 1990s and beyond.
Born in Fujian (South China) in 1967, Zhu Wen graduated from Nanjing University in 1989. From 1989 to 1994 he worked as an engineer in a thermal power plant, during which time he began writing fiction. Since he became a full-time writer in 1994, his work has been published in many of Mainland China's most prestigious literary magazines, and he has produced several poetry and short story collections, a full-length novel and three films.
Over the course of his writing career, Zhu Wen has established himself as a pivotal figure in Post-Mao Chinese literature, to whom other authors of his and younger generations look for inspiration. His success in recreating on the page the brutal absurdities of contemporary China has turned him into a representative voice of the 1990s and beyond.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 42 reviews
August 9, 2015
Or : Fifty Shades of Irritation, Aggravation, Annoyance, Exasperation, Vexation, Impatience, Chagrin and Pique.
Our first person narrators, who are all the same guy, spend their whole lives seething with all the crap that rains down on them, bitterly resentful of pretty much every single aspect of life in China. Such a steady and consistent tone of contempt does not fail to find the deadpan black humour in such situations as being hornswoggled into looking after your girlfriend’s post-op father for a night in hospital which necessarily involves intense and sustained Beckettian micro-management of the dad’s attempts to pee into a pee bottle.
Some readers will find the whole thing disgraceful and cringemaking, others will roar. I was reading and wincing and almost smiling gleefully. That one is called "A Hospital Night", which with the trying-to-get-your-visiting-dad-a-shag title story (how’s that for a grisly premise?) and the fabulous "A Boat Crossing" (what is it with these blanded-out titles) form the bulk of this outrageous collection. Zhu Wen’s I’m-gonna-tell-you-just-how-shit-everything-is delivery finally gets too much in the story "Ah, Xiao Xie" – come on, that was just flat out douse-yourself-in-kerosene boring. But the rest get the balance right. Just when you finally get all this deadpan mostly-disgusting humour some burst of violence comes out of nowhere & wipes the smile right off.
Terrific but dismal, dismal but terrific. Although it took me ages to finish. Page long paragraphs, you know.
Our first person narrators, who are all the same guy, spend their whole lives seething with all the crap that rains down on them, bitterly resentful of pretty much every single aspect of life in China. Such a steady and consistent tone of contempt does not fail to find the deadpan black humour in such situations as being hornswoggled into looking after your girlfriend’s post-op father for a night in hospital which necessarily involves intense and sustained Beckettian micro-management of the dad’s attempts to pee into a pee bottle.
Some readers will find the whole thing disgraceful and cringemaking, others will roar. I was reading and wincing and almost smiling gleefully. That one is called "A Hospital Night", which with the trying-to-get-your-visiting-dad-a-shag title story (how’s that for a grisly premise?) and the fabulous "A Boat Crossing" (what is it with these blanded-out titles) form the bulk of this outrageous collection. Zhu Wen’s I’m-gonna-tell-you-just-how-shit-everything-is delivery finally gets too much in the story "Ah, Xiao Xie" – come on, that was just flat out douse-yourself-in-kerosene boring. But the rest get the balance right. Just when you finally get all this deadpan mostly-disgusting humour some burst of violence comes out of nowhere & wipes the smile right off.
Terrific but dismal, dismal but terrific. Although it took me ages to finish. Page long paragraphs, you know.
July 29, 2008
Checked this out on a whim from the library.
I gave this as many opportunities as I could. But after 2 2/3 stories, I couldn't justify continuing. I was actually losing sleep debating whether to continue or cease.
What I managed to read felt claustrophobic, and on the infrequent occasions when there was actually some action, it still felt like nothing was happening.
I hate giving any book one star, but this really was not a very enjoyable reading experience.
I gave this as many opportunities as I could. But after 2 2/3 stories, I couldn't justify continuing. I was actually losing sleep debating whether to continue or cease.
What I managed to read felt claustrophobic, and on the infrequent occasions when there was actually some action, it still felt like nothing was happening.
I hate giving any book one star, but this really was not a very enjoyable reading experience.
May 31, 2015
I can't think of another collection of stories that I've appreciated as thoroughly as this one.
On one level, having spent some time in China, I recognize features that might seem bizarre to Western readers, such as the sidewalk scenarios -- the lengthy confrontation with the shopkeeper who insists that a passerby pay a fine for having dropped litter outside her door, or the challenge of the old granny to a man who inadvertently rolled his trailer bicycle over a tomato she'd dropped on the ground. But I think Wen Zhu draws out these points of friction until they become caricatures:
"The old lady said she'd bought 6 tomatoes, costing 2.5 yuan altogether, making each tomato 0.41666 yuan on average. Rounding it up, he owed her 0.42 yuan [less than half a penny by my calculation]. After a brief, stunned pause, the man demanded to see the other 5. ... I disagree, the man pronounced after thorough investigation. These 5 are all quite big, but the one I squashed was obviously much smaller..."
As explained in the preface, this obsession with money, even exceedingly trivial amounts of it, reflects the obsession with material wealth that took hold in China following disillusionment with the hollow promises of communism. The translator sees the stories as being primarily a commentary on how that change had made life even cheaper and coarser and more pointless than before:
"Socialist systems and institutions constantly fail those they are meant to serve: the threadbare health care provided in A Hospital Night; the unfinishable, centrally (un)planned power plant in Ah, Xiao Xie that generates only melancholia and treats its employees like indentured serfs; the abusive, uncouth 'People's Police' of A Boat Crossing. In Wheels, the narrator barely considers seeking protection from Nanjing's ineffectual police."
However, as I suggested in discussing another book about China, phenomena there may be extraordinary but aren't necessarily unique. The scenarios in these stories will be very familiar to anyone who read existentialist/absurdist literature in college (such as Kafka's nightmarish tales "A Country Doctor" and "The Metamorphosis"). (I took time out in the middle of this book to go back and reread that latter story. Its theme -- one's discovery that he is nowhere near as important or as valued as he'd supposed -- registered with me more than before, as I was laid off from my job earlier this year and cannot find a new one.) The translator notes that Wen Zhu claims Kafka as an influence and even had Kafka's portrait on the wall of his apartment. What Zhu sees in modern-day China would surely resonate with anyone who responds to Kafka's themes of alienation and no-win situations.
These stories do not indulge any saccharine preconceptions we may cherish about the way this world ought to be. Instead, it shines a brilliant light on the world as it often is. And in the process it somehow made me laugh several times.
On one level, having spent some time in China, I recognize features that might seem bizarre to Western readers, such as the sidewalk scenarios -- the lengthy confrontation with the shopkeeper who insists that a passerby pay a fine for having dropped litter outside her door, or the challenge of the old granny to a man who inadvertently rolled his trailer bicycle over a tomato she'd dropped on the ground. But I think Wen Zhu draws out these points of friction until they become caricatures:
"The old lady said she'd bought 6 tomatoes, costing 2.5 yuan altogether, making each tomato 0.41666 yuan on average. Rounding it up, he owed her 0.42 yuan [less than half a penny by my calculation]. After a brief, stunned pause, the man demanded to see the other 5. ... I disagree, the man pronounced after thorough investigation. These 5 are all quite big, but the one I squashed was obviously much smaller..."
As explained in the preface, this obsession with money, even exceedingly trivial amounts of it, reflects the obsession with material wealth that took hold in China following disillusionment with the hollow promises of communism. The translator sees the stories as being primarily a commentary on how that change had made life even cheaper and coarser and more pointless than before:
"Socialist systems and institutions constantly fail those they are meant to serve: the threadbare health care provided in A Hospital Night; the unfinishable, centrally (un)planned power plant in Ah, Xiao Xie that generates only melancholia and treats its employees like indentured serfs; the abusive, uncouth 'People's Police' of A Boat Crossing. In Wheels, the narrator barely considers seeking protection from Nanjing's ineffectual police."
However, as I suggested in discussing another book about China, phenomena there may be extraordinary but aren't necessarily unique. The scenarios in these stories will be very familiar to anyone who read existentialist/absurdist literature in college (such as Kafka's nightmarish tales "A Country Doctor" and "The Metamorphosis"). (I took time out in the middle of this book to go back and reread that latter story. Its theme -- one's discovery that he is nowhere near as important or as valued as he'd supposed -- registered with me more than before, as I was laid off from my job earlier this year and cannot find a new one.) The translator notes that Wen Zhu claims Kafka as an influence and even had Kafka's portrait on the wall of his apartment. What Zhu sees in modern-day China would surely resonate with anyone who responds to Kafka's themes of alienation and no-win situations.
These stories do not indulge any saccharine preconceptions we may cherish about the way this world ought to be. Instead, it shines a brilliant light on the world as it often is. And in the process it somehow made me laugh several times.
October 6, 2011
I'm a bit concerned that, because I give so many 5-star reviews, people might think I am indiscriminate.
On the other hand, my reading time is so precious that I don't like to squander it reading a book I'm not enjoying. There are so many thrilling ones.
So I'll compromise.
I'll review this book without reading it.
To be fair, I tried to read it. There are six stories in this collection and I gave each of them a go. I read the first one for over twenty minutes but I couldn't find a single thing to like.
The others I devoted much less time to. I found the accumulation of mundane sentences and banal dialogue overwhelmingly tedious. I think my flatmate's incoherent ramblings are more literary than this.
I read (or, strictly speaking, didn't read) these stories in English but it's not the translator's fault. She has also translated "Lust, Caution" by Eileen Chang, which is absolutely brilliant whether you read it in English or Chinese.
So, sorry, this gets a thumbs down from me.
On the other hand, my reading time is so precious that I don't like to squander it reading a book I'm not enjoying. There are so many thrilling ones.
So I'll compromise.
I'll review this book without reading it.
To be fair, I tried to read it. There are six stories in this collection and I gave each of them a go. I read the first one for over twenty minutes but I couldn't find a single thing to like.
The others I devoted much less time to. I found the accumulation of mundane sentences and banal dialogue overwhelmingly tedious. I think my flatmate's incoherent ramblings are more literary than this.
I read (or, strictly speaking, didn't read) these stories in English but it's not the translator's fault. She has also translated "Lust, Caution" by Eileen Chang, which is absolutely brilliant whether you read it in English or Chinese.
So, sorry, this gets a thumbs down from me.
January 27, 2025
7.6
Contemporary Chinese culture is a complete enigma. As a historically rich nation, it is strange to see it conceived by Chinese cinema and literature as such an everyman place - like nobody there really gives a fuck anymore.
I am positive this is not the entire truth, but Zhu Wen's cataloged reflections on this certainly seem to suggest this.
This anthology consists of six shorts: each of which evoke similar moods, with equally absurd characters - the suggestion that I Love Dollars is "as penetrating as Kafka, as outrageously funny as Larry David" is, admittedly, a complete exaggeration on both accounts. But Zhu Wen is certainly a writer of merit, despite his vilification on this poorly formatted website.
Favorite Story: Ah, Xiao Xie
Least Favorite Story: Pounds, Ounces, Meat
Contemporary Chinese culture is a complete enigma. As a historically rich nation, it is strange to see it conceived by Chinese cinema and literature as such an everyman place - like nobody there really gives a fuck anymore.
I am positive this is not the entire truth, but Zhu Wen's cataloged reflections on this certainly seem to suggest this.
This anthology consists of six shorts: each of which evoke similar moods, with equally absurd characters - the suggestion that I Love Dollars is "as penetrating as Kafka, as outrageously funny as Larry David" is, admittedly, a complete exaggeration on both accounts. But Zhu Wen is certainly a writer of merit, despite his vilification on this poorly formatted website.
Favorite Story: Ah, Xiao Xie
Least Favorite Story: Pounds, Ounces, Meat
February 27, 2016
Excellent prose from the new generation of Chinese writers. Simply put, it's all about money, but a good observer like Zhu Wen would be able to reveal an almost karmic dimension to their circulation. At current exchange rates peace of mind is hard to get.
May 1, 2009
I love zhu wen. He makes me laugh. Superb story execution and style.
January 16, 2019
It wasn’t for me. I couldn’t really get into the characters very much, probably because their philosophies are so different from my own. I wanted to like this used bookstore buy but I just didn’t.
August 15, 2024
A solid find. Been looking for some Chinese lit that reflects a style more in line with what I seek out elsewhere (fluidity, humor, ruminations on the Kafka-esque banality of it all). Not a home run, as the novellas don't particularly stand out from one another, but still a good time.
November 10, 2008
Hell yeah! This was great modern Chinese literature. I Love Dollars is a book of short novellas and a couple of short stories. Wen's characters live in the new dollar-driven China being bounced around through random chance encounters and events while seeking pleasure and kicking aside the decaying rubbish of the Maoist repression era. His characters are cynical, not too endearing, and generally have a 'fuck all' attitude but will bend down and pet the puppy just enough to elicit a bit of sympathy for their plight. Wen's voice is unique; a loosely punctuated first-person narrative in which speech runs on within sentences of descriptive prose. Wen wrote these novellas during the beginning of China's economic liberalization where anything could be set on paper that would sell and make money; anything that didn't touch on politics. As Deng Xiaoping said, It doesn't matter whether a cat is black or white, so long as it catches mice, it's a good cat.
'I Love Dollars is probably the weakest story in this collection. A Hospital Night, A Boat Crossing, Wheels and Pounds, Ounces, Meat are the best of the book.
From the beginning of Pounds, Ounces, Meat:
On the bridge by the old Drum Tower I was stopped by a shabby individual, clearly someone who'd wandered in from out of town, with a black bag tucked under his arm and an unnerving gleam in his eyes. He told me my physiognomy was most unusual; he simply had to tell my fortune, he wouldn't charge a cent. The plastic on top of the bridge had melted tackily in the sun: crossing felt like walking over spat-out chewing gum, or smoker's phlegm, or snot, or semen, or fresh dog shit. I include these comparisons purely to illuminate, not disgust, you understand. If I were to suggest you imagine it was raw meat underfoot, now that, I admit, would be nauseating. Fuck off, I told him as impatiently as I could manage.
Briefly, all too briefly, the man was transfixed by shock, too transfixed to manage any kind of response, till I'd reached the end of the bridge's elevation and was about to set off down the steps on the other side. Good luck's coming your way this year! He screeched vengefully at me across the asphalt. About fucking time, I muttered to myself as I descended. When I was halfway down, I happened to look up and see a girl with a healthily tanned face coming toward me up the steps, carrying a black parasol and a copy of I Love Dollars. My heart began to pound. I wasn't sure, at that moment, whether this counted as my good luck or not. In subsequent weeks and months, I often thought back over this scene, about this girl and that book, about how she kept the latter pressed beguilingly up against her chest, blinding me to its obvious flatness.
'I Love Dollars is probably the weakest story in this collection. A Hospital Night, A Boat Crossing, Wheels and Pounds, Ounces, Meat are the best of the book.
From the beginning of Pounds, Ounces, Meat:
On the bridge by the old Drum Tower I was stopped by a shabby individual, clearly someone who'd wandered in from out of town, with a black bag tucked under his arm and an unnerving gleam in his eyes. He told me my physiognomy was most unusual; he simply had to tell my fortune, he wouldn't charge a cent. The plastic on top of the bridge had melted tackily in the sun: crossing felt like walking over spat-out chewing gum, or smoker's phlegm, or snot, or semen, or fresh dog shit. I include these comparisons purely to illuminate, not disgust, you understand. If I were to suggest you imagine it was raw meat underfoot, now that, I admit, would be nauseating. Fuck off, I told him as impatiently as I could manage.
Briefly, all too briefly, the man was transfixed by shock, too transfixed to manage any kind of response, till I'd reached the end of the bridge's elevation and was about to set off down the steps on the other side. Good luck's coming your way this year! He screeched vengefully at me across the asphalt. About fucking time, I muttered to myself as I descended. When I was halfway down, I happened to look up and see a girl with a healthily tanned face coming toward me up the steps, carrying a black parasol and a copy of I Love Dollars. My heart began to pound. I wasn't sure, at that moment, whether this counted as my good luck or not. In subsequent weeks and months, I often thought back over this scene, about this girl and that book, about how she kept the latter pressed beguilingly up against her chest, blinding me to its obvious flatness.
November 6, 2019
Le plus intéressant dans ce livre était la postface, qui remit tout en perspective
July 19, 2013
A wonderful collection of stories. Lovell's translation is just amazingly smooth. Brilliant sadness and dark humor throughout. The following review was originally a guest post on the Emerging Writers Network blog hosted by Dan Wickett, as part of his thing for Short Story Month in 2012.
The questions I most often ask myself are hard questions that do not have good answers such as Why did you just do that stupid painful expensive-to-fix thing? More fun is thinking about short stories for a month and then not exactly out of nowhere asking myself whom I most want to write another book of them.
The rule (arbitrary, crucial): the person must still be alive.
And so now here is today's answer: Zhu Wen.
I hope that you have already read his collection I Love Dollars (brilliantly trans. Julia Lovell, Penguin, 2008), the one where he says things like:
“Faces no longer mattered, in this kind of light.”
and
“It's a great life if you don't weaken. Or at least not as bad as you think it is.”
and
“Plan E was, in short, to wait for death.”
and
“Whenever I see a baby, my heart fills with pity. Why so late, unlucky child?”
and
“'Instant noodles,' he said. His monotone implied neither desire for dialogue nor admiration for my choice; he was just saying it, trying the words out: Instant noodles.”
and
“The plan was to soothe my nerves, but all I ended up with was a droopy scrotum.”
If you haven't then you definitely should. The stories are set in a China getting richer but not better (with the implication that if it were getting poorer, or staying the same, it would also not be getting better). These days Zhu Wen is mostly making movies that win prizes in Europe. The films are each very good, almost as good as his stories, which are glitteringly smart and funny and sad, and it would be great if he'd write some more soon.
The questions I most often ask myself are hard questions that do not have good answers such as Why did you just do that stupid painful expensive-to-fix thing? More fun is thinking about short stories for a month and then not exactly out of nowhere asking myself whom I most want to write another book of them.
The rule (arbitrary, crucial): the person must still be alive.
And so now here is today's answer: Zhu Wen.
I hope that you have already read his collection I Love Dollars (brilliantly trans. Julia Lovell, Penguin, 2008), the one where he says things like:
“Faces no longer mattered, in this kind of light.”
and
“It's a great life if you don't weaken. Or at least not as bad as you think it is.”
and
“Plan E was, in short, to wait for death.”
and
“Whenever I see a baby, my heart fills with pity. Why so late, unlucky child?”
and
“'Instant noodles,' he said. His monotone implied neither desire for dialogue nor admiration for my choice; he was just saying it, trying the words out: Instant noodles.”
and
“The plan was to soothe my nerves, but all I ended up with was a droopy scrotum.”
If you haven't then you definitely should. The stories are set in a China getting richer but not better (with the implication that if it were getting poorer, or staying the same, it would also not be getting better). These days Zhu Wen is mostly making movies that win prizes in Europe. The films are each very good, almost as good as his stories, which are glitteringly smart and funny and sad, and it would be great if he'd write some more soon.
September 22, 2008
This is a mind bender comedic collection of short stories by a contemporary Chinese writer. His dry, hyper realistic, first person descriptive writing is glaring, jarring and hilarious. His main character has to deal with the indignities, bizarreness, cruelty and scarcity of life in overpopulated China where sex and trying to stay on the good side of a man in power, who is not always too bright, consumes life. The protagonist gets in bizarre situations like having to stay up allnight with his girlfriend’s father, who fights when he is helped to pee in a jar, or in the situation of carrying the ration of toilet paper, 20 or more rolls, strapped on a bicycle up a steep hill, or having to pay quiet money to the town hood for slightly knocking the hood’s father. It is wild and funny, and a bit disturbing.
May 1, 2017
The style of this book is distinct in its dark comedy and cynicism, a style I don't typically love. I sadly bought this book on a whim before reading reviews after seeing it in a list of Chinese books. I like to believe that I'm not prudish, but certain parts of this book left me so uncomfortable I have to wonder. It is the point of the book to be dark, depressing, ironic, and cynical. If you like stories that leave you drained and depressed, you will probably enjoy this. As for me, I had to donate this book because even its presence among my collection started to concern me.
October 12, 2008
I wanted to like this book, but as I finish, all I really have to say is meh. Think American Naturalism of the gilded age (think McTeague and There Will Be Blood) set in China. Lot's of scatalogical humor and a total absence of any human dignity. Some people clearly think it's funny, but it just didn't quite float my boat. Frankly, I'm glad to be done with it, and I'm selling my copy used on Amazon if anyone wants it cheap.
January 9, 2011
These short stories are quite cynical. Because I live in China and am somewhat accustomed to Chinese culture, I understood the humor and situational irony in the stories much better than I would have before I lived here. I think any one could enjoy this, but if you live in modern China, you will get much more out of this book. Despite its dark themes and humor, I think Zhu Wen artistically articulates some of the biggest issues in the Middle Country's modern day, socialist state of capitalism.
August 23, 2018
This book is tough to read. It's dark in places. It is slow and repitative. The writer paints a frustrated picture but looks at it comically. The story pounds ounces and meat would be a good start. It is slapstick funny with only an undercurrent of darkness. For the rest of the stories be patient. The journey is difficult but the destiny will leave you with something for sure.
Another plus point is I haven't read a lot of books like this. It taught me something new.
Another plus point is I haven't read a lot of books like this. It taught me something new.
March 10, 2012
I am reading I Love Dollars for my Chinese culture class on the changing notion of the self & individual identity during post Revolutionary China. It's a collection of short stories written by Zhu Wen. The writing is very crisp & very unorthodox/sensational for Chinese writing. Enjoying it so far.
January 11, 2016
It could have just been that something was lost in the translation but for a book that was touted as being really funny, I don't know if I even smiled once. This was a short book but it felt like every story was endless and filled with the same self-important sadsack wandering around like the world owed him something just for existing.
September 1, 2008
Birds eye view of modern China. Pretty good stuff here even if the voice is the same in every story. Anyone who has been to China will laugh at the stuff he writes about. All you have to do is walk around Shanghai and you'll see where he got his material. Still, it's missing something.
January 23, 2014
I really, really like Zhu Wen. Storytelling driven stuff that walks the tightrope between bizarrely real and utterly surreal, wonderful billingsgate, thoughtful meditations on economic life in post-reform China. Hope to work on his stuff more in the future.
February 14, 2008
Truly fantastic--funny, ornery and troubling.
April 7, 2008
great detailed narrative shorts on post-mao china. i felt like i was in the narrator's world of electrical plants, boat crossings, slums, urban grit. more soon.
September 9, 2008
A great insight into the humor of china.
Read
October 20, 2010I didn't love reading this book.
Read
August 6, 2011no start or finish...
February 7, 2013
Uneven. At their best, these stories offer a smart, satirical take on greed and social dislocation in contemporary China. At their worst, they're whiny and a bit misogynistic.
July 10, 2014
A couple of stories from this book will stick me forever, even after I leave Beijing. Whether it's when I am biking around or visiting a hospital.
May 18, 2015
Nope. Just no.
January 13, 2017
One of my favorite collections of short stories for a long time, -gritty, hard boiled, and humorous tales of getting by in modern China.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 42 reviews