In the modern world of steel and concrete, where we have grown accustomed to the hum of air conditioners and the steady rotation of electric fans, the traditional hand fan seems to have long since exited the main stage of summer cooling, evolving instead into a cultural symbol imbued with classical charm. Yet, in Zigong, Sichuan, there exists a type of bamboo-filament fan known as the "Gong Fan," which—through its astonishing delicacy—redefines our very perception of what a fan can be.
As thin as a cicada's wing and as light as mist, it reveals—when held against the light—faintly emerging images of landscapes and human figures, as if ink were gently blooming across a sheet of *Xuan* paper. How, exactly, did this masterpiece of intangible cultural heritage—once treasured by Empress Dowager Cixi and bestowed with the imperial title "Gong Fan" (Palace Fan)—transform from a piece of rigid bamboo into a "breathing," three-dimensional pictorial scroll?
Let us turn back the clock to the Guangxu era of the Qing Dynasty. At that time, Gong Juewu—a fan-making artisan in Ziliujing, Sichuan (now Zigong City)—would spend his days gazing at the swaying bamboo groves along the riverbank. Within him, a bold idea began to take root: could he somehow transform hard, rigid bamboo into a weaving material as soft and pliable as silk?
After countless days and nights of experimentation, Gong Juewu finally succeeded in creating a novel and unique style of woven bamboo fan. Initially, the fan faces featured only simple inscriptions—such as the characters for "Blessing, Prosperity, Longevity, and Joy"—or motifs like "Magpies Frolicking Amidst Plum Blossoms." Yet, precisely because of their novelty and uniqueness, these fans quickly gained popularity throughout the local region. It was under the stewardship of his son, Gong Yuzhang, that the Gong Fan reached its zenith. In 1886, at the "Treasure Exhibition" (*Saibao Hui*) organized by Zhou Xiaohuai—the Sichuan Commissioner of Industrial Promotion—the Gong Fan took first prize and was subsequently selected for presentation to the Imperial Palace. Upon seeing it, the Guangxu Emperor was struck with awe and delight, and he graciously bestowed upon it the name "Gong Fan" (Palace Fan). From that moment on, this humble folk fan hailing from the land of Bashu ascended to legendary status within the history of Chinese craftsmanship.
As the old adage goes: "Slow work yields fine results." The reason the Gong Fan is celebrated as one of the "Three Minor Wonders" of Zigong lies at the very core of that word—"wonder" (*jue*)—for its exacting standards regarding detail border on the obsessive. Foremost among these standards is the rigorous process of "material selection." The raw materials for a Gong fan are typically harvested from one-year-old Yinshan *Cizhu* (thorny bamboo) or *Huangzhu* (yellow bamboo). This is not a matter of simply felling any random stalk; rather, one must wait for specific solar terms—such as the Autumn Equinox or the period following "White Dew"—to seek out high-quality bamboo growing in shaded areas, specifically those stalks with internodes measuring at least 1.85 *chi* (approx. 62 cm) in length. Once harvested, the bamboo must be soaked in clear water to remove any scarred or insect-damaged sections, leaving behind only a small, uniformly colored segment from the middle of each internode.
Next comes the miraculous artistry of "splitting the strands." The selected bamboo strips must first be planed to remove the outer skin, then meticulously split into fine filaments using specialized tools. This is an intensely technical undertaking—indeed, it constitutes the core secret of the Gong fan tradition. A single, high-quality Gong fan filament measures a mere 0.01 to 0.015 millimeters in thickness—roughly one-seventh the diameter of a human hair! Thanks to the continuous refinements introduced by the fourth-generation successor, Gong Daoyong, and his team, these bamboo filaments have been rendered thinner and lighter than ever before, truly achieving a state where they are "stirred by the faintest breeze" and appear "crystal-clear and translucent."
Finally, there is the profound artistry of the "weaving." The fan face typically takes the shape of a peach; to create it, artisans employ a complex repertoire of techniques—including lifting, pressing, threading, splitting, and inlaying—using their nimble hands to deftly maneuver the bamboo filaments at a microscopic level. Even more remarkable is the way the Gong fan capitalizes on the subtle color variations between the front and back surfaces of the bamboo filaments (typically a light shade and a dark shade). Through the intricate interplay of warp and weft, landscapes, human figures, and calligraphy are "woven" onto the monochromatic fan face, exhibiting chiaroscuro transitions and tonal depth reminiscent of a charcoal sketch.
If you are fortunate enough to hold a top-tier Gong fan in your hands, do not be too hasty to use it for fanning yourself; doing so would mean missing out on its most enchanting qualities. Because the bamboo filaments are incredibly thin and woven with such density, the surface of a Gong fan feels as smooth as a mirror and as soft as fine silk to the touch. Its most magical attribute, however, lies in its optical effects: when viewed directly against the light, the fan face appears white, with the woven patterns shimmering faintly in the soft glow; shift your gaze slightly to the left, and the patterns transform into a delicate blue-green hue while the leaves turn white; shift your gaze again to the right, and the patterns revert to white, while the leaves turn back to blue-green. The shifting interplay of color—emerging and transforming with every change in viewing angle and play of light—resembles a form of visual sorcery, leaving observers utterly spellbound. It is said that with a masterpiece-grade Gong fan—crafted with bamboo filaments pressed to extreme thinness and woven with intense tension—a gentle tap on the handle can actually elicit a crisp, resonant sound akin to the beat of a drum. This distinct, crisp "thump-thump" is, in reality, the collective resonance of hundreds of bamboo filaments—each thinner than a human hair—a "sound of the soul" tapped out by artisans through countless solitary days and nights of unwavering concentration.
Since its inception by Gong Juewu, the art of the Gong fan has spanned over 140 years. This craft has never suffered a break in continuity, passing down seamlessly through five generations. The fourth-generation successors—including Gong Daoyong and Gong Qian—are not merely guardians steadfastly preserving the traditional techniques; they are also pioneers driving innovation. They have pushed the thinness of the bamboo filaments to their physical limits, elevating the intricacy of the woven patterns to a level comparable to high-definition pixel resolution. The fifth-generation successors—such as Gong Qian and Gong Yaoyu—have grown up immersed in a world of bamboo filaments, deeply internalizing the ancestral maxim: "As members of the Gong clan, we must love and master this craft." They face a dual challenge: not only must they devote at least two months to crafting a single fan entirely by hand, but they also bear the weighty responsibility of integrating this ancient art form into the aesthetics of the modern era.
As we gaze upon this Gong fan—delicate and translucent as a cicada's wing—we perceive far more than just an exquisite work of calligraphy and painting. We witness, instead, the deep-seated Chinese ethos of "striving for perfection," as well as the wisdom of living in harmonious coexistence with the natural world. Within this humble fan lies not only the magic of nimble fingertips but also a profound cultural heritage—a source of strength and identity that is truly worthy of our eternal guardianship.