Edited from Fuck Yeah Chinese Myths!:

You know how in every culture we wonder who we are, and where we came from? The Norse believed that everything came from the primordial void of the Ginnungagap (“mighty gap”), until the frost Giant Ymir thawed out from the ice and his sweat became human beings. And so do the Chinese, more or less!

The story goes that a long time ago, there was nothing except a primordial chaos, and from that chaos emerged a cosmic egg. The egg remained unhatched for 18,000 years. I don’t know how we’re meant to know this. I suppose they wanted to make their creation myth more believable.

A vignette from the dregs of the expat bottle – by Paul Haire

I watched the rugby on Saturday night, Scotland vs Ireland, and I drank too much as usual. I had to nip out of my 9 o'clock class the next day a few times to vomit in the bathroom. But what do you expect when you have class at 9 o'clock on a Sunday morning.

We watched the game in The Den bar, Sanlitun, which is full of foreigners and hookers who charge 1000 kuai a night. I was with my friends – an Englishman, a Canadian and another Scot. We settled into our usual place at the corner of the bar. It’s a rubbish place to watch the games from, because you can't see the screens properly, but it's always empty and it's sort of our home now. The waitress remembered us from last time.

The Anthill occasionally loans its soul to the devil and does listicles – so far China books and China blogs. Now we turn our eye to bad articles about China, in the form of a top ten hall of infamy. These are mostly terrible articles of the harmless variety – i.e. fresh off the boat and clueless, or falling prey to stereotypes, rather than nasty propaganda or misleadingly ignorant journalism. No personal offence meant to any of the writers, it's only intended as gentle mockery, nothing serious. Ready yourself, here we go ...

A Chinese student volunteers with migrant workers – by Crayon

Ed: Most writers on the Anthill are foreigners, so we thought to hear from a Chinese voice for a change. 蜡笔 (là bǐ) or “Crayon” is the pseudonym of a 20 year old student of English at Wuhan University, in her home province of Hubei.

Last year, in the run up to the spring festival, Crayon volunteered to work with migrant workers in the southern factory city of Shenzhen. She was there for a week, and her experiences affected her deeply. She wrote about it (in English), and quite by chance I stumbled across the essay. With her permission, the Anthill is publishing an edited version.

Flash fiction by Anthony Tao

Ed: twinned with Red Bean Paste on Beijing Cream, for their Flash Fiction competition

Two women, both cleaners, step out of their respective office buildings in a business district in northwest Beijing.

“Where should we have lunch?”

“I don’t want to walk far. Let’s go somewhere close.”

“How close? There’s a diner up by Tarim Petroleum Hotel.”

“We’d have to take the pedestrian bridge over the highway. How is that close?”