A Japanese businessman’s firsthand view of China

On May 8, the Japanese media outlet AERA DIGITAL published an article by a Japanese businessman named Kitahara Minoru, recounting his first business trip to China and a visit to Xi’an. From pre-travel anxiety and fear, as well as warnings from family members, to deep reflections upon returning home.

Kitahara wrote: When I decided to make my first trip to China, everyone around me expressed concern about whether it was appropriate to go now. “Won’t you be afraid if they find out you’re Japanese?” “Could you get arrested?” “Isn’t it dangerous to go to China right now?” …… My girlfriend’s parents said: “If you’ve already made up your mind, I can’t stop you… but please remind her to contact her family every day to report she’s safe.”

Today, Japan may still harbor suspicion toward China, perceiving it as a “mysterious and frightening country.”

In fact, I myself was extremely anxious—so much so that I prepared more carefully than usual for an international trip. However, on April 16–19, I had no choice but to attend a business negotiation at the Shanghai Adult Products Expo, one of the largest in the world. The event attracted 100,000 visitors from around the globe. I’d heard that its scale grows larger each year. But I wasn’t particularly eager to go, since our company rarely deals with European manufacturers. Yet, reality proved otherwise. I was stunned by the sheer size and complexity of the exhibition—almost surreal. There were no common 2D adult products widely available in Japan (perhaps they exist, but I’ve never seen them), while there were countless beautifully designed items. The massive venue filled with tens of thousands of people radiated vibrant energy. Young Chinese internet celebrities dressed in cosplay costumes streamed live videos. This atmosphere is unfamiliar and unimaginable in today’s Japan. Everyone exudes confidence and hope for the future—a feeling palpable throughout the exhibition.

Many people in Japan claim that “China’s economy will decline.” But if this is what “decline” looks like, then what should we call Japan’s current economic state? Most importantly, I personally dislike crowded places in Tokyo; staying too long in such environments often makes me sick. Yet, in China’s bustling crowds, I felt relaxed and positive—there seemed to be something I truly wanted to see here, perhaps even interesting encounters waiting to happen.

I kept thinking: “This side… This side…” It means “this side,” not “the side dominated by America.” Standing on this side feels richer, more promising, and most importantly—fascinating.

As I walked through Shanghai’s commercial district, lined with Uniqlo, Chiikawa, and Sanrio stores, I realized I didn’t feel distant from “this side.” Mentally, I felt closer. Whenever I saw people laughing on the streets, my sense of connection to “this side” grew stronger.

Naturally, some might argue: “China is terrible—it lacks freedom of speech and suppresses democratic movements.” But when watching TV in my hotel room, I noticed political commentators arguing passionately with each other. Even though I couldn’t understand Mandarin, I sensed they were seriously debating important issues.

After completing my work in Shanghai, I took the high-speed train to Xi’an. The journey lasted seven hours aboard the world’s fastest bullet train. I traveled in business class, which is completely different from Japan’s Shinkansen Green Car. The seats are semi-private compartments with doors, reclining beds, and hot lunch and snacks provided. What surprised me most was the absence of announcements inside the train—everything was unusually quiet. Just before I was due to get off, a staff member came to inform me: “The next station is approaching.” The fare was 2,000 yuan (approximately 45,000 JPY)—equivalent to the cost of taking the most expensive Green Car seat from Tokyo to Kyushu (covering about 500–600 km in three hours).

This trip, I carried no cash. While many countries now allow travel without carrying physical money, China is far more digitalized than any other nation. A Japanese man who studied in China 20 years ago once warned me to watch out for counterfeit bills. But there was no need for cash anyway. What shocked me most was an elderly woman vendor selling toys by the roadside under a small sunshade. She had a cute plush horse toy. I stopped to look, intending to pay in cash—but to my surprise, she pulled out a QR code and asked me to pay via smartphone. The plush horse cost just 20 yuan—and payment was made digitally.

Naturally, some critics say China’s digitalization means the government knows all my purchases and behaviors. Even boarding the high-speed train requires placing your pre-registered passport above the scanner at the ticket gate. Entry to World Heritage sites like the Terracotta Warriors also requires a pre-registered passport. Some restaurants are accessible only via phone reservation by local residents. In this way, every individual’s actions and the entire flow of the economy seem “controlled” by the government. But this isn’t unique to China. People worldwide are choosing convenience over privacy. China’s pace of change is astonishing—digital transformation has reshaped every corner of society.

I’ve heard that Xi’an, the city housing the Terracotta Warriors, is attracting more and more young Japanese tourists these days. Some say it’s due to the influence of the manga *Kingdom*. A tour guide told me that many Japanese university students now come to Xi’an for independent travel.

This journey was deeply meaningful and inspired me to learn more about the world.

Go see China for yourself. Believe me—this place is absolutely worth visiting.

Original source: toutiao.com/article/1864671687653643/

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are those of the author alone.