Even before the concept of "lying flat" emerged, Chinese citizens had already been combating the long-standing "overwork culture." These two online projects, initiated by a group of young Chinese people, utilize crowdsourcing and open source approaches. They draw inspiration from the "996ICU Project," launched in 2019 by Chinese programmers on the code-sharing platform GitHub, a platform that opposes excessive overtime at Chinese internet companies.
Aaron Zhang is a computer science student at the University of Sydney, Australia. Initially, he used the programming code of 996ICU to build the website 611study.ICU. Zhang admitted that his programming skills were limited. By the time he came to the "Niuma ICU" project, the team had hired professional website development engineers, and the page was more professional.
As of press time, the project has collected valid data from 4,962 companies and enterprises nationwide, including state-owned enterprises and civil servants. Website statistics show that only 6% work fewer than 8 hours a day, while 37% work more than 12 hours. 79% work 6-7 days a week.
Compared to student overtime study programs, workplace overtime programs haven't caused a stir or prompted reform. "The interests of oppressors and public power are aligned," Li Ying explained. "The more factories exploit workers, the greater the benefits (of the Chinese government) can reap." He feels the hope of granting workers a two-day weekend off is slim.
However, the team members believe that the ICU project's far-reaching significance lies in breaking China's long-standing "data black hole." "Everyone knows that China has a problem with overlearning," Zhang said, "but there's no way to know the exact extent of the problem or its regional distribution."
In recent years, China's previously open official data has been gradually disappearing. The credibility of existing data from the National Bureau of Statistics of China has also been questioned, and official Chinese announcements have acknowledged that "data falsification to achieve false political achievements continues to occur." China has also demanded that third-party data providers impose greater restrictions on foreign data. Some think tanks have stated that this will impact research on key areas of China by businesses, governments, and research institutions.
From a broader perspective, these two ICU projects have found a potential way to break China's information blockade. Using VPNs to bypass the Great Firewall, Chinese citizens anonymously fill out school and company information on Google Docs, including daily school and work commute times, weekly school and school hours, monthly holidays, the number of suicides in schools in 2024, and the problems associated with long work hours. This data is then reviewed repeatedly by a team of content moderators, who flag and isolate suspicious submissions, such as those with excessive suicide rates or excessive study hours.
It's undeniable that anonymity compromises the accuracy of the data. Jiang Bu admitted in an interview, "There's a perpetual conflict between data accuracy and contributor safety." To prevent retaliation from the university, submissions are anonymous, and their IP addresses are not recorded. He believes that if someone deliberately fabricates data, as long as the data isn't too outrageous, there's really no way to tell. Li Ying shared an internal community report on the two ICU projects with RFA, also noting the limitation that "voluntary submissions tend to overemphasize extreme cases."
Jiang declined to disclose their reports on issues such as the physical and psychological persecution of Chinese children and labor issues in China to a UN-affiliated non-profit organization. The feedback they received included that the anonymous nature of the submissions made it difficult to identify reliable sources. Li Ying explained that their collaboration has not been hindered, and that they are in contact with other human rights organizations, but declined to disclose details at this time.
Fighting totalitarianism with cryptocurrency
Since participating in both projects, Alang has received a total of 240,000 $Li coins as compensation. While Jiang doesn't mention it, cryptocurrency experts in the $Li community share tips on how to safely convert $Li into cash. However, Alang, living in Hong Kong, still has many security concerns, fearing that the Chinese government will uncover the source of the funds and his connection to Li Ying. It wasn't until about a month ago, when he was short of cash, that he decided to convert a small amount of $Li. He says he felt somewhat apprehensive.
At the end of December 2024, Li Ying launched the virtual currency Memecoin $Li to build a decentralized overseas Chinese community to promote freedom of press and expression in China. The name "Memecoin" comes from "Internet Meme," and the "$Li" logo also features the profile picture of the "Teacher Li" account, a hand-drawn tabby cat.
On the day of its issuance, the highly personal $Li had a market capitalization of tens of millions of US dollars. However, it subsequently plummeted in value and is still an actively traded coin. As of press time, its market capitalization is only approximately US$2 million.
Li Ying's coin issuance quickly sparked divisions within the overseas Chinese community. While many of Li Ying's fans expressed support, many others questioned her motives. Huang Yicheng, the organizer of the "White Paper Movement" and a member of the exile community, publicly disowned Li Ying on X, arguing that she was both legally and morally questionable and exploiting the public trust accumulated during the White Paper Movement to enrich herself. Others argued that Li Ying's issuance of the "Li Coin" was ostensibly intended to promote press freedom, but was in reality a scam and insider trading.
Later members of the $Li community also held skepticism. Alang felt that Li Ying's initial tweet about launching the coin, which mentioned building a "decentralized overseas Chinese community ecosystem" and inviting people to join the preparatory committee, was vague. He initially worried that Li Ying was trying to scam people out of money, and if he joined, "he might end up becoming an accomplice."
Jiang Bu was also initially incredulous when he heard the news. Like many, he considered cryptocurrency a scam and a scam. He tried to change Li Ying's mind, convincing her that such actions would damage her reputation. When that proved unsuccessful, Jiang Bu, a documentary filmmaker by training, decided to document this moment.
Over three days and over 60 hours, Jiang Bu flew from Paris to Italy to document the entire process of Li Ying's cryptocurrency issuance. Jiang Bu claims he didn't see Li Ying profiting from the arbitrage. Following online skepticism, Jiang Bu asked over 100 questions, ultimately being moved by Li Ying's "idealistic approach to using cryptocurrency to combat totalitarianism." After filming, Jiang Bu participated in two ICU projects and later decided to purchase $Li coins and donate them to the $Li Committee. This move sparked criticism from bloggers and others, including Wang Zhian, a Chinese self-media personality living in Japan, who suspected Jiang Bu of lacking credibility by obtaining insider information through filming and interviews, and of colluding with Li Ying to engage in insider trading. Jiang, however, feels that "documentaries lack perspective, but I still have my own perspective on the matter," and he disagrees with ethical issues.
Being a leader in the Chinese community is a very thankless task." Li Ying admitted that although he initially wanted to build a "decentralized overseas Chinese community ecosystem", he was forced to play the role of community leader. But he found that Chinese people generally have a "savior" mentality, expecting others to save themselves, and leaders must be self-sacrificing like Jesus. After experiencing various threats and suppression from China, Li Ying said that he lost his job and his domestic savings were frozen, making it impossible to make a living. In 2023, Li Ying announced his share of advertising revenue on X, which averaged 568 euros (about 4,495 yuan) per month, which was far lower than the average monthly income in Italy in the same year.
"Under the circumstances of not accepting foreign government funding, I had no choice but to issue a cryptocurrency," Li Ying said. According to a statement released by a fake account on the X platform, "Teacher Li," the total supply of $Li will be 1 billion, with the price adjusted by the market. A foundation will be established, with the foundation holding 19.5% of the tokens, and Li Ying personally holding 2%.
These doubts stem from the inherent risks and uncontrollability of cryptocurrency, as well as the forward-thinking nature of $Li's vision for community building. "Teacher Li is like a Cheng Yaojin who suddenly appears mid-sentence. Everyone is just fighting on Mount Huashan, but everyone's just stopping when it's too late," Jiang Bu said of the $Li community built by Li Ying after the token launch. "He suddenly appears, a reckless creature, breaking all the rules."
Jiang Bu, a community movement organizer, is well aware that the working model of nonprofits is to raise funds, implement projects, and write reports. This often limits funding, making progress slow. "Teacher Li has created a pool of funds out of thin air, with a very short project cycle—a full project can be rolled out in a month. This is an efficient and cost-effective way to ensure everyone receives a small financial reward while also feeling a sense of participation," Jiang Bu exclaimed. "This is truly innovative."
Li Ying believes that despite being suppressed and threatened, launching a new coin was a necessary choice. Despite facing numerous criticisms, they still managed to build a community and launch these projects. "Every time you come back from the brink of death, you become stronger."
(For security reasons, Aaron Zhang is a pseudonym, and Jiang is not my online name.)
