Piece by Piece, an Ancient Chinese Craft Is Shaping Future Toys

Li Xin wrote . . . . . . . . .

Born into four generations of carpenters and trained as an architect, Hao Liyan seemed destined for a career in building or design. Yet, he found his true calling where the two disciplines intersect: running a business crafting toys that use traditional Chinese mortise-and-tenon joints.

“I had seen all the hard work and injuries my forebears endured and decided against following in their footsteps,” the 42-year-old tells Sixth Tone. “(But) growing up, I understood the value of craftsmanship and felt a duty to preserve these skills. The culture of a family deeply influences who we become.”

This traditional technique, called sunmao (榫卯) in Chinese, joins concave and convex wood pieces together by fitting them like puzzle pieces. Without using nails or glue, the system creates strong, interlocking structures that are built to last. Tracing its roots to the Neolithic period, the craftsmanship is celebrated as a part of China’s intangible cultural heritage.

Peaking during the Ming (1368–1644 A.D) and Qing (1644–1911) dynasties, sunmao was integral to constructing everything from grand palaces to intricate furniture and musical instruments. With modernization over the centuries, however, the technique declined as cheaper, less labor-intensive materials became prevalent.

But in recent years, this ancient technique has found new life amid a cultural resurgence that celebrates traditional Chinese elements in contemporary design. Dubbed guochao — or “China chic” — this movement has grown especially popular among the nation’s younger generations, particularly Gen Z.

Initially fueled by the revival of traditional Hanfu clothing in around 2018, guochao has since spread across multiple sectors including fashion, beauty, architecture, and lifestyle. According to experts, the shift has significantly altered consumer preferences, with domestic brands now increasingly favored over international ones.

Capitalizing on this trend, domestic brands have infused traditional Chinese symbols, designs, and motifs into their products and marketing strategies.

For instance, Florasis, a beauty startup based in the eastern city of Hangzhou, launched makeup items drawing heavily on traditional aesthetics, including carved lipsticks packaged in Chinese love locks and brow pencils capped with designs resembling lotus seed pods.

According to a recent study conducted by RTG Consulting Group, more than 84% of Chinese consumers said their purchasing decisions are influenced by whether a brand exemplifies Chinese pride.

Hao’s gradual pivot towards traditional craftsmanship began after he graduated in 2007. He first founded an interior design company focused on kindergarten facilities, which eventually led him to establish a chain of toy rental stores catering specifically to children.

Despite this success, Hao says he felt a disconnect between his Chinese cultural heritage and a toy market dominated by foreign brands like the Danish-owned toy giant Lego. Two years later, as he was building sunmao toys for his first child using the skills he had learned as a boy, Hao saw an opportunity.

Seeing a niche for culturally rich toys, he founded Qiaolin. Now with over 20 employees, the company launched its first group of products last October. Currently, it offers eight toy block packages on various e-commerce platforms, each containing varying numbers of basic units. With these blocks, players can construct more than 100 different structures or patterns.

Last year, Qiaolin’s revenue reached approximately 3 million yuan ($414,500), and Hao anticipates this figure will rise to 10 million yuan this year.

While mortise-and-tenon toys are still often likened to China’s version of Lego, Hao asserts that their linkage systems are quite different.

Lego-like blocks follow a two-dimensional assembly logic based on x- and y-axes, creating new forms through stacking and variation. “In contrast, sunmao structures incorporate a three-dimensional element by including the z-axis, which allows structures to stand upright,” he says.

“While both may use the same number of blocks, the variation in mortise and tenon joint connections is more diverse.”

Among his brand’s bestsellers is a 42-piece wooden kit that can be assembled into seven different configurations, ranging from a heart to a crocodile and even a miniature replica of the China Pavilion at the 2010 Shanghai World Expo. The 42 pieces are divided into just six types of wooden sticks, each featuring a sawtooth pattern ranging from one to six teeth.

The sunmao interlocking system offers more than just innovative toy design, according to Deng Hua, head of the Sunmao Preservation and Innovation Lab at Jimei University.

“The connection of wood with one protrusion and one depression perfectly fits the philosophy of yin and yang,” Deng explains, referring to the traditional Chinese concept of opposing but complementary forces, symbolizing balance and harmony.

In recent years, the use of sunmao techniques has allowed Chinese toy companies to replicate iconic structures, such as Beijing’s Palace Museum, in a manner similar to how Lego constructs models of famous buildings such as the seven wonders of the world.

Gao Shenyan, a 32-year-old from Tianjin, was captivated by a television advertisement for a toy replica of the Temple of Heaven in Beijing and purchased the 899-yuan kit for her son, Rourou. She hoped to use the replica to demonstrate the intricacy of sunmao construction to her son.

“It took us four to five hours to assemble,” she says. “We were genuinely excited when we finally finished it.”

Across China, Gao is part of a growing number of Chinese parents looking to switch from international brands to domestic ones.

Chinese toymakers first gained prominence as domestic manufacturers for international brands in the 1980s. Over time, they began developing their own brands, initially by imitating popular products like Lego sets. For instance, in 2019, police raided the knockoff maker Lepin, seizing $30 million worth of counterfeit Lego products and arresting four people.

Despite these challenges, domestic toymakers slowly began creating original, competitive products under their own brands.

Now, revenue in China’s toy blocks market has increased from 14.2 billion yuan in 2022 to 20.6 billion yuan ($2.88 billion), with projections to reach 37.3 billion yuan by 2026, according to a report from the research institute Leadleo.

Other domestic brands specializing in sunmao-style blocks include Wanfeng, Xiaomi, Chongshi Yingzao, and Qiaohe.

Most brands offer sunmao toy blocks in both wooden and plastic versions. Solid wood versions better reflect the authenticity of the traditional technique but tend to be more expensive due to standardization challenges in manufacturing. Plastic versions, however, offer uniformity and ease of assembly but may not capture the aesthetic appeal of wood.

“Both forms are good as long as they can cultivate an appreciation for mortise-and-tenon connections,” says Deng.

Deng and his team have also developed a range of teaching tools and courses aimed at K-12 students. These are used during study trips and various extracurricular activities to introduce students to traditional joinery techniques.

In these courses, children are given two pieces of wood and asked to join them using only a saw and ruler. The approach is designed to encourage students to think creatively and develop their problem-solving skills.

This emphasis on craftsmanship highlights the importance of precision. Deng says: “Even a minor error of 0.5 millimeters in the fitting of a tenon can necessitate starting the entire process over.”

To further deepen his connection to traditional Chinese craftsmanship, Hao, in 2021, relocated his company from Beijing to Tengzhou in the eastern Shandong province, the hometown of renowned master carpenter, engineer, and inventor Lu Ban from the Spring and Autumn period (722–481 B.C.).

By establishing his business in Lu Ban’s hometown, Hao hopes to not only pay homage to this rich heritage but draw inspiration for his products directly from the source.

Hao also apprenticed under Zhao Yushan, a master carpenter dedicated to preserving the Wooden Pagoda of Yingxian County in the northern Shanxi province. This 968-year-old structure from the Liao dynasty (916–1125 B.C.) is the oldest and tallest multistory wooden structure in the world. Zhao has even constructed an 8:1 scale replica of the pagoda, relying solely on observation and memory since the original blueprints have been lost.

“Our methods may differ, but our mission is the same. By connecting past and present, we ensure that these age-old skills are not forgotten,” Hao says.

Source : Sixth Tone

To Make Sure Grandmas Like His Don’t Get Conned, He Scams the Scammers

Emma Bowman wrote . . . . . . . . .

The gentle voice of an elderly woman named Edna is heard over the phone.

“I’m going to call Ticketmaster and see if we can get us some tickets to a Taylor Swift concert, OK?” she says. “Will you call them with me?”

She’s speaking to a scammer from Nigeria on the other end of the line who is after her money. For months, he’s spent a rough total of 20 hours on the phone with her, professing his love as he tries to get her to invest her millions in a house on the Moon. But the rambling Edna has been testing his patience with her absurd questions and tangents.

When the scammer insists they marry in Nigeria, a place he says he’s never been, Kitboga drops the act.

“Interesting, ’cause all of your IP addresses are there,” Kitboga says on a livestream, his voice now deeper, after switching off a voice changer. The naïve Edna character is one of the many disguises devised by Kitboga, the alias of a computer software engineer-turned-Twitch streamer, to lure scammers into his traps.

Americans lost a record $12.5 billion to internet crimes last year

Kitboga, also called Kit, is a millennial with a knack for improvisation. He’s among the most popular of so-called scam baiters, a term used to describe those who aim to waste scammers’ time otherwise spent ripping off innocent victims. It’s a lucrative gig for some of the biggest creators in the genre who, like Kit, have quit their jobs to scam bait full-time, often broadcasting their humorous schemes on YouTube and Twitch. As internet scams spike, with victims losing more money than ever, scam baiters like Kitboga are trying to get more than just laughs.

Americans lost a record $12.5 billion to internet crimes last year, according to the FBI’s latest annual report, marking a 22% jump from 2022. The bureau says that number is likely higher because so many crimes go unreported. Law enforcement agencies lack the resources to investigate the majority of internet-based fraud, and few victims see their money returned.

But, like others in the world of scam baiting, Kitboga figures that the longer he can keep fraudsters on the line, the fewer victims fall prey to these scams.

Kitboga reveals the ridiculous lengths scammers will go to steal from the vulnerable. The episodes lend themselves to teaching moments for the viewers tuned into his streams. He breaks down the latest scams he encounters, from his own investigations or tips from his subscribers, sometimes learning as he goes. To his 1.2 million Twitch followers — a count he’s doubled on YouTube — he’s shed light on some of the most rampant and costliest cyber threats, from tech support and gift card fraud, to pig butchering scams. Pig butchering is a combination of a romance and an investment scam, usually involving cryptocurrency, in which the scammer slowly works to gain the trust of their victim before convincing them to invest money they’ll never get back.

“Getting emails from someone saying, ‘I knew that this was a scam because of your video,’ ends up being a really cool mission-accomplished type feeling,” Kitboga said.

It wasn’t so long ago that Kitboga himself was ignorant of the types of scams he now encounters daily.

Kit was further inspired to start scam baiting because scammers had been taking advantage of his grandmother

He was inspired to start scambaiting in 2017, after coming across a YouTube clip of “Lenny,” a beloved chatbot designed to trick telemarketers into thinking they are talking to a live person. The bot was an early scam baiter: Lenny wastes the time of spammers and scammers as the recorded voice of a forgetful old man spits out lines prompted by pauses on the other end.

It was then that Kit realized that tech support scams were a thing. He thought of his grandmother, whose dementia made her a more vulnerable target, and his grandfather with Alzheimer’s.

“I work on computers all day. If I don’t know this exists, my grandparents definitely don’t know,” he said. “And there was just this spark of maybe I could do something about it.”

Scammers had been taking advantage of his grandmother, he learned. She was paying for multiple cable and internet packages. He said “sketchy” people were showing up at her house on her dime, doing unnecessary tasks.

But as Edna, a character modeled after his grandma, he realized he could manipulate the scammers.

“The initial drive or mission was, if I spent 10 minutes on the phone, then that was 10 minutes that that scammer wasn’t talking to my grandma or your grandma,” he said.

Friends encouraged him to stream his calls with scammers on Twitch. Since then, he said he’s helped several victims escape the hold of scammers and disrupted large fraud operations.

Getting back stolen money is rare. But reporting scams to authorities increases your chances

On a good day, Kitboga gathers enough intel from the scammer that he then reports to the authorities. Scammers, seeing him as an unsuspecting victim, will occasionally give up bank account details, cryptocurrency wallet addresses and other identifying information that he said he shares in his reports to banking authorities, in complaints to the FBI, and in direct communications with law enforcement.

“If they think you’re falling for their scams, they end up giving way too much information sometimes,” he said.

The FBI and the Secret Service did not confirm to NPR whether it has agents working with Kitboga or any other scam bait streamers, saying it doesn’t comment on specific activities. The bureau encourages victims to promptly report online scams to its Internet Crime Complaint Center, iC3.gov. The FBI uses those complaints to build cases against cybercriminals. Of the small percentage of overall crimes it does look into, the bureau has a relatively high success rate of stopping scams. Last year, the FBI’s recovery unit was able to freeze roughly 71% of the $758 million stolen in fraud crimes it investigated.

As to how to fight fraud, strategies differ among scam baiters. The ethics of how far to take the trolling are debated in online forums. Some have questioned the murky practices of Pierogi, the alias of another popular streamer in the scambaiting world, who is known for having more of a vigilante streak. Another has faced legal repercussions for his tactics. Thomas Dorsher, who ran the YouTube channel ScammerBlaster to document his efforts in punishing illegal robocallers, was fined by the FCC for running his own illegal robocalling scheme.

Among scam baiters, Kitboga is known for toeing the line: “I kind of treat it like, well, if it’s illegal for me I shouldn’t do it,” he said.

Even so, Jerri Williams, a retired FBI agent, advises scam baiters to be cautious. As a veteran fraud investigator who has worked major telemarketing cases, she said, “I wouldn’t recommend this at all.”

Scam baiters should be cautious as some scammers may do more than defraud people
You don’t always know who’s on the other side of the phone. Although streamers largely target call center scammers who have rudimentary hacking skills, there’s a chance it could be a con artist capable of doxing the scam baiter, Williams said. Some scammers, she added, are not willingly defrauding people, but are victims of human trafficking operations.

“When you’re playing around with people whose job it is to be a criminal, you need to really think about what are you attempting to do,” she said. “If it’s truly just to entertain followers then, no, I don’t think it’s the right thing to do at all.”

For many people who watch Kit’s content, the amusement factor was the Trojan Horse to real information they say helps them stay alert to scams.

Dylon Cai, 40, said he’s a lot wiser to the various scams out there after coming across Kitboga’s channel. Years ago, he was ensnared in a tech support scam that caused him to lose all of his college work on his laptop.

“It was frustrating,” he said. “At that time, YouTube was just starting out. I really wish that somebody was actually able to share this kind of content to me. That would have prevented that experience I had.”

Cindy, who doesn’t want to use her last name due to the threat of scams, said scammers hounded her late parents’ phone line after she became the executor of their estates. A search for answers took her to Kitboga’s Twitch stream.

“I started off trying to find solutions but then I began to love the entertainment portion of it,” she said. “He’s just very addictive to watch and I get a little schadenfreude from seeing [scammers] get their comeuppance.”

Cindy, who at 64 is on the older side of the scam baiter’s predominately millennial viewership, has since joined Kit’s team of volunteers, helping promote his content and keep track of his anti-scam sagas. She said her husband, who doesn’t watch Kit’s content, now looks to her when he’s confronted with suspicious activity online.

“He comes to me, he’s like, ‘What’s this?’ And I’m like, ‘Oh, that’s a scam,’ ” she said. “I feel empowered, you know.”

Kit has taken a more proactive approach in his latest schemes, which have allowed him to thwart scammers even while he’s sleeping. He’s set up a “honeypot” trap, created with artificial intelligence, that sends scammers through a series of unending verification steps in search of non-existent stolen Bitcoin accounts.

Recently, he also released anti-scam software. “I’ve seen how devastating they [scams] can be,” Kitboga said, “but also learned — going back to my grandma — how I could stop someone from ever getting on her computer in the first place.”

Source : npr