Shares in Unitree, one of China’s largest manufacturers of humanoid robots, closed their first day of trading by more than 460%, showing strong investor appetite for China’s robotics sector. 

Unitree raised around $900 million in its IPO on Shanghai’s STAR Market, the city’s board for technology startups, at a valuation of $9 billion. After today’s surge, Unitree is now worth around $66 billion, ahead of larger Chinese tech firms like Baidu and JD.com. It’s also worth more than the most valuable U.S. robotics company, Figure AI, which got a $39 billion valuation in a September 2025 funding round.

Investors piling into Unitree represents the hype around China’s robotics sector, which is responsible for almost all shipments of humanoid robots in the first half of the year. But analysts views are mixed on how much potential companies like Unitree have: While the startup continues to push what their robots can do—recently, beyond human performance—continued struggles on the software side, as well as a recent U.S. ban on foreign-made robots, could weigh on the company’s future.

Unitree reported 1.7 billion yuan ($252 million) in revenue in 2025, with almost 45% of that coming from overseas sales. It also generated 600 million yuan ($89 million) in profit last year. Most of Unitree’s sales go towards research purposes, though some Chinese tech companies and state-owned enterprises are starting to explore using humanoid robots in their operations.

Unitree has been backed by fellow Hangzhou startup DeepSeek, as well as big tech firms like Alibaba, Ant Group and Tencent, as well as several state-backed investment funds. 

Read more [paywall removed for Redditors]: https://fortune.com/2026/08/19/unitree-china-dancing-robots-ipo-trading-surge-valuation/?utm_source=reddit/

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Because Chinese is an especially difficult language, very few foreigners are able to gain a deep understanding of what is happening on the Simplified Chinese internet. Naturally, this also makes it difficult for them to understand what motivated this woman’s behavior. Here, I would like to explain the background and causes in detail.

First of all, I must emphasize that the overwhelming majority of Chinese people are not like this. But even if only 200 million out of a population of 1.4 billion were lunatics, that would still be an enormous number.

These embarrassing incidents involving Chinese people abroad usually contain some of the following elements:

1. An inexplicable tendency to loudly shout about “China.”
2. A tendency to speak to foreigners from an unequal position, treating them as though they are beneath them, often leaving the foreigners completely confused.
3. Treating their own demands as the absolute priority and, once other people fail to satisfy those demands, making an enormous scene.
4. Harboring inexplicable hostility toward other countries, with Japan being the most serious target.

These behaviors correspond to several cultural phenomena commonly seen within China.

1. Overwhelming extreme patriotic education and the active deletion of content that contradicts official narratives

Official media and thousands upon thousands of self-media creators work together in this regard. Platforms are extremely lenient when reviewing patriotic content—even when it contains lies or fabricated information.

There is a great deal of factual content, but also a great deal of falsehood, all centered around narratives about China’s rise and growing power.

For example, during the previous flooding in Henan, the authorities intensively published propaganda about disaster-relief efforts while deleting large amounts of content independently posted by ordinary citizens.

2. Praising China is not enough; other countries must also be put down

Chinese people, as well as Chinese-speaking foreigners who want to appeal to China’s enormous audience, often have to highlight China’s strength by belittling foreign countries.

Foreigners may portray themselves as country bumpkins who are astonished by everything they see in China, before going on to complain about how terrible their own countries are.

The important point is that simply praising China is not enough. Other countries must also be demeaned so that the audience can experience a sense of superiority from putting other people beneath them.

Some Chinese creators also enjoy portraying Chinese people as invincible and making foreigners look completely helpless. They like using narratives along the lines of:

>

There are enormous numbers of videos like this in China. They may cause some Chinese people to genuinely start regarding foreigners as idiots.

3. The mentality that “someone needs to regulate this”

Chinese people often say, “This is something that needs to be regulated.”

The implication is that people lack the ability to govern themselves. In reality, this problem does exist to some extent: once an industry lacks regulation, people quickly begin exploiting loopholes in the rules, causing standards throughout the industry to deteriorate rapidly.

Therefore, whenever a problem emerges, the first instinct of many Chinese people is to demand that someone step in and regulate them.

This is partly the result of the Communist Party’s long-term atomization of society. It encourages a culture in which government officials are treated like parents while the “children” report one another to the authorities, making it difficult for people to develop the ability to govern themselves.

When these people are inside China, they follow the rules. But once they arrive somewhere freer, their true nature emerges, and they begin making demands without any sense of limits.

4. Constantly creating enemies

Patriotic self-media creators need to continuously generate traffic, so they are enthusiastic about finding conflicts between China and neighboring countries.

They exaggerate those conflicts and sometimes simply fabricate lies, inciting extreme hatred in order to satisfy the demands of their audiences.

Their audiences have already developed a habitual way of thinking: first, China must supposedly be looked down upon, and then China must put everyone else beneath it.

After all, China has aircraft carriers and fighter jets, so in this narrative it can easily wipe the surrounding “tiny countries” off the map.

This is a mainstream cultural phenomenon that exists within Chinese society, but this explanation is only half of the picture.

There are also many content creators who emphasize individual freedom, civic consciousness, the rule of law, and lessons that can be learned from European and American societies.

However, this type of content is clearly less prevalent than patriotic content. Furthermore, it is subjected to extremely strict censorship. In China, content operates under a review-before-publication system: your content must first pass review before it can be made public.

These creators are also easily subjected to the harshest scrutiny by patriotic audiences. Once they make a mistake, they can face the most severe punishment.

This produces a peculiar phenomenon.

You are not prohibited from talking about freedom or the rule of law, but anything you submit must undergo strict scrutiny. Even after passing censorship, people can easily pick apart your content, and the consequences can be severe if they find something wrong with it.

By contrast, if you praise China, you may be exposed as having lied 100 times. You may even be exposed as owning property in the United States, holding permanent residency in Switzerland, or possessing a French green card, and yet you still may face no punishment whatsoever. Your audience will not care either.

This is because patriotic content can provide people who feel unsuccessful in their real lives with a sense of excitement, allowing them to immerse themselves in collective glory. They need to consume this kind of content frequently and make strong declarations of patriotism.

By contrast, ordinary, rational Chinese people often do not express these views very loudly. Instead, they demonstrate their preferences through their actions—they vote with their feet.

For example, Chinese authorities say that Japan is a dangerous country, yet more than a million Chinese people—around half of last year’s number—still overcome all kinds of difficulties to travel to Japan.

Chinese authorities encourage citizens to travel to Russia, yet Chinese tourists have filmed themselves being extorted by police officers in Russia.

The creators who win awards at China’s annual content-creator conferences are also usually the more rational ones—in other words, creators whose values are more internationally oriented.

Creators who promote extreme hatred or extreme nationalism may command enormous amounts of traffic, but they are almost never showcased openly on the main stage.

Foolish people make noise everywhere, while ordinary people quietly make their own choices.

That is the current reality in China.

Returning to the woman who caused the disturbance at the Malaysian airport, we can draw several conclusions from the analysis above:

1. She believes China is the most powerful country and thinks that simply shouting China’s name can intimidate other people.
2. She displays an inexplicable sense of superiority when dealing with foreigners, treating them like children.
3. After entering a safe and free environment, she lacks the ability to regulate her own behavior and consequently loses control.
4. Her demand that Japanese and Singaporeans “surrender” is the result of long-term exposure to education and rhetoric centered on hostility—an ingrained tendency to want to put other people beneath her.

So tomorrow night I’m at a friends Party which will probably end 10-1am , but there are no trains from shangrila to Lijiang after 8pm which sucks. I have a flight from Lijiang to Guangzhou at 8am Friday , what’s the best way to get a didi at 2-3am so I arrive at Guangzhou airport for 8am

This used to be a bustling entertainment street, but in the past couple of years when I visited my hometown, I found so many places that had closed down. The few that are still open are mostly mahjong parlors or other folk entertainment venues with gambling elementsI know it's necessary to build a lot of shops for GDP growth, but right now no one wants to rent them for business. Every business in China has been losing money these past two years. This place is a long-term poverty-stricken county with a huge population

So I am currently holding a Filipino passport staying here inside Mainland China. I was born in the Philippines with a Filipino mother and a Chinese father. My dad only got his permanent residency because he is married to my Filipino mother. This visa was issued year 2010 (10 years after my birth, year 2000). When I was 18, I studied in a university in Xiamen as an international student from the Philippines with a Filipino passport. Everytime I apply for a student visa, I always get rejected at the first submission because immigration officers knew that I am a person with nationality conflict. They would need me to provide my birth certificate + parents' marriage certificate with chinese translation (that was a pain in the ass btw). At that time I didn't know anything about China's nationality law and I wasn't aware that I have a nationality conflict case. Now I have already graduated from university and wanted to claim my Chinese citizenship to be able to live here freely in China without processing for visas. So I went back to Nanchang (this is my dad's hukou place) because I asked Xiamen immigration before and they told me to go to my dad's hukou place to process. Now they wouldn't acknowledge my birthright claim of Chinese citizenship just because I was holding a Filipino passport inside Mainland China and that I can't apply for nationality recognition because I'm already 25 years old and that my only path is through naturalization. I don't get it? I thought naturalization is a path only for pure foreigners that never had Chinese citizenship? What nanchang officers say contradicts with my experience with Xiamen immigration. 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ Does any of you had this kind of experience and how did you solve it. I really need help please 🥺

Different experiences with technology have shaped radically different expectations of what artificial intelligence will bring.

On August 12, 2026, former Chinese Premier Zhu Rongji (朱镕基) passed away, sparking renewed debate over a series of reforms carried out during his tenure. The most controversial of these, and the one with the most severe negative consequences, was his push to restructure state-owned enterprises (SOEs), which caused tens of millions workers to be “laid off” (下岗) and lose their “iron rice bowls.” These unemployed workers generally found themselves in dire circumstances, and many families were driven to desperation. Some regard this as a “necessary sacrifice” in the transition to a market economy, while others believe it was excessively harsh and violated workers’ rights. Yet both sides of the debate acknowledge that the reforms caused suffering for some former SOE workers.

In discussions of the suffering of laid-off workers, some have also noted that, compared with workers who had long enjoyed an “iron rice bowl,” farmers during the same period were even poorer and had fewer rights and protections. Beginning in the mid-1950s, China developed rigid divisions between workers and farmers and between urban and rural areas, divisions that shaped the destinies of people from different social strata for decades thereafter.

At the time, China comprehensively implemented a publicly owned economy. Almost all industrial enterprises were state-owned, and virtually all workers were SOE employees whose livelihoods were supported by state finances. Under planned-economy policies such as “unified purchasing and marketing” (统购统销), the prices of industrial goods were raised while those of agricultural products were suppressed, creating an industrial-agricultural “scissors gap” (工农业剪刀差). This was used to accumulate capital to promote industrialization and support the livelihoods of industrial workers, while farmers became the ones who paid the price.

During the relatively impoverished decades from the 1950s through the 1980s, the industrial working class, who worked in manufacturing and lived in cities, and their families enjoyed relatively good provisions for healthcare, housing, education, pensions, and other forms of social welfare. They held lifelong “iron rice bowls,” were supported by the state, and when a worker retired or died from illness, their children could even inherit their jobs. SOEs also had no meaningful performance-assessment requirements, or such assessments existed only as a formality. Under a planned and closed economy, they did not need to compete with other enterprises. Unless a worker was implicated in a political issue such as being labeled a “counterrevolutionary,” SOEs generally would not dismiss workers regardless of whether they shirked their duties or became involved in fights and other disturbances.

This resulted in widespread inefficiency among workers, redundant staffing, waste, losses, leakage, and other inefficiencies, low output and even poorer quality, and high production costs coupled with low output. All costs and losses were ultimately covered by state finances and did not affect workers’ incomes or welfare benefits.
Meanwhile, the peasant class, which accounted for about 80 percent of China’s population at the time and lived in rural areas, received virtually no wages or social security—or, more precisely, only nominal and extremely meager support. Farmers also had to shoulder heavy agricultural labor obligations and “deliver public grain,” effectively paying taxes in kind. Famines still occurred from time to time in rural areas, and some people literally starved to death or died from malnutrition and other illnesses.

At the time, there was virtually no mobility between workers and farmers, and these identities were inherited across generations. A small number of farmers could participate in industrial production as temporary workers, but they received only meager compensation and did not enjoy the wages or protections afforded to formal workers. The household registration system (户籍制度) also institutionally fixed people’s identities and social affiliations while restricting their mobility. The renowned scholar and social activist Liang Shuming (梁漱溟) once described the situation by saying that “after the founding of the People’s Republic, workers were in the ninth heaven, while farmers were beneath the ninth earth”(工人在九天之上，农民在九地之下).

In the early years of Reform and Opening Up (改革开放), social controls in China loosened. Farmers were allowed to farm allocated plots independently and retain surplus grain; they could also become wealthier through sideline businesses, commerce, and other activities, and could change their destinies through the National College Entrance Examination (高考). Yet only a minority escaped poverty or moved upward socially, while numerous restrictions and burdens continued to weigh on farmers. Workers, meanwhile, continued for a time to hold on to their “iron rice bowls,” but productivity remained low, product quality was poor and uncompetitive, and the welfare benefits enjoyed by workers and their families became an enormous fiscal burden.

China’s economic development remained limited during the early years of Reform and Opening Up, and per capita GDP even declined for a period. One reason was rapid population growth; another was the drag imposed by inefficient and highly wasteful SOEs. As mainland China opened to the outside world and entered the market economy and international competition, its industrial products were not only poor in quality but also more expensive to produce. They simply could not compete with products from Hong Kong, Taiwan, and foreign countries. SOEs suffered severe losses, which were ultimately covered by state finances. From the late 1980s to the early 1990s, amid mounting domestic and external difficulties, China’s public finances nearly collapsed, prices soared, and the country faced a severe economic crisis.

It was against this backdrop that Zhu Rongji pushed forward the restructuring of SOEs, eliminating inefficient enterprises and applying a process of “survival of the fittest” to workers as well, thereby triggering a massive wave of layoffs (下岗潮). This wave of layoffs did indeed plunge many workers who had previously enjoyed stable, worry-free lives into an abyss. Entire families fell into hardship; some workers were reduced to destitution, some even turned to sex work to survive, and others died by suicide.

Corruption during the process of resettling laid-off workers, including the embezzlement of already limited resettlement funds, further compounded their suffering. There were also many injustices in SOE reform and the layoffs. For example, many SOE managers who held sinecures and drew salaries without doing meaningful work were not dismissed, while rank-and-file workers with neither power nor connections were laid off at higher rates. Even though much time has passed, these problems should still be remembered, confronted, and criticized.

At the same time, I would also like to emphasize that the peasant class, which constituted the majority of China’s population and suffered even greater hardship than industrial workers, deserves still more attention and sympathy, and its circumstances were even more urgently in need of improvement. Moreover, during the preceding decades, the relatively favorable treatment enjoyed by workers had been paid for precisely by farmers. Through the industrial-agricultural “scissors gap,” the state artificially depressed the value of farmers’ labor in order to subsidize industrial production and workers’ welfare, leaving farmers for decades in poverty, without basic protections, with their rights infringed upon, and under heavy burdens.

In the late 1970s, Wan Li (万里), then First Secretary of the Anhui Provincial Committee of the Chinese Communist Party, inspected rural areas and discovered that farmers were so impoverished that they lacked adequate clothing and did not even have trousers to wear, while entire families—men and women, young and old—were crowded together in a single dark, cramped, dilapidated room. In 1978, Wang Zhen (王震) and other senior Chinese Communist Party leaders inspected Guizhou and other regions and found that farmers’ living conditions were even worse than they had been in 1936, during the Republican era, when the Red Army (红军) passed through the region. Many farmers did not have enough to eat and could not even afford salt.

The poverty and oppression suffered by Chinese farmers persisted even after Reform and Opening Up had been underway for twenty years. The Warning of the Huai River (《淮河的警告》), written by Chen Guidi (陈桂棣) and published in 1999, and An Investigation of Chinese Peasants (《中国农民调查》), co-authored by Chen Guidi and Wu Chuntao (吴春桃) and published in 2003, offered detailed and profound exposés of the hardships endured by Chinese farmers. In 2000, Li Changping (李昌平), a township Party secretary in Hubei, told Zhu Rongji: “The farmers are truly suffering, the countryside is truly poor, and agriculture is truly in danger.” At the time, CCTV’s Focus Report (《焦点访谈》) also frequently reported on corruption among rural cadres, arbitrary fees, the embezzlement of subsidies intended for farmers, and the injustices suffered by farmers.

During that period, grassroots officials colluded with criminal and other malign forces to exploit farmers and bully rural households under a variety of pretexts. Tensions between officials and the public were extremely acute, and violent tax-resistance incidents even occurred in some areas, such as Fengcheng, Jiangxi (江西丰城). One of the burdens farmers faced was taxation: they had to pay not only the agricultural tax, the “regular tax,” but also a host of onerous levies and miscellaneous charges such as the “three deductions and five unified levies” (三提五统). Farmers contributed much but received little in return, while state finances were devoted far more heavily to subsidizing inefficient and loss-making SOEs and covering the wages and welfare benefits of large numbers of workers and their families.

Such a situation was clearly distorted and unsustainable, and it was one of the reasons Zhu Rongji was determined to pursue reform. Closing inefficient SOEs and dismissing some workers was intended not only to stimulate competition and economic development, but also to reduce the fiscal burden—which in turn meant reducing the burden on farmers—and to free up more funds and resources to address the “three rural issues” of agriculture, rural areas, and farmers (三农问题) and improve farmers’ circumstances. As many inefficient SOEs went bankrupt or downsized, large numbers of private enterprises were established, and many farmers migrated to cities for work. Although migrant workers enjoyed far fewer protections than SOE workers, they could still earn more than they could through farming alone and enjoy materially richer and more varied lives. Poverty-alleviation and development programs, agricultural subsidies, and rural infrastructure construction also gradually expanded.

Under these measures, farmers finally began to emerge from extreme poverty, gradually achieving basic food and clothing security and even moving toward a moderately prosperous standard of living. During the Hu Jintao (胡锦涛) and Wen Jiabao (温家宝) era, the agricultural tax and various associated levies were abolished, while more subsidies were provided. This greatly reduced the burden on farmers and was also related to the direction and foundations established by the reforms of the Zhu Rongji era. SOE reform also improved the efficiency and profitability of state-owned enterprises, while economic development in turn benefited SOEs and their employees. Many workers came to earn higher incomes and enjoy more generous protections than before the restructuring, and some laid-off workers also found higher incomes and new paths in life.

It is worth noting that the Soviet Union and the countries of Eastern Europe, which were undergoing dramatic transformations at the time, also carried out a series of reforms. They likewise experienced transitions from planned to market economies and the privatization of state-owned enterprises, with many workers also becoming “laid off” and falling into poverty. Some countries, such as the Czech Republic and Poland, did a relatively good job of protecting workers’ rights during these reforms, while workers in countries such as Russia suffered more severe losses.

Whatever the circumstances, in these countries the working class, including workers’ family members, had long constituted the majority of the population, while farmers were a minority; at the very least, there had been no sustained exploitation of farmers after World War II. Therefore, it was appropriate for these countries to provide workers with protections and compensation. In China, however, even into the 1990s, the working class still accounted for less than one-fifth of the population, while farmers remained the majority. Providing generous benefits to workers would inevitably mean that farmers received less—or even lost more—and there was a clear conflict of interests between workers and farmers.

The reforms of Zhu Rongji and his successors, together with changes in social conditions, led to the decline of some SOEs and a wave of layoffs. This was indeed a tragedy for the workers who lost their jobs. However, restructuring SOEs and eliminating inefficient enterprises and personnel were necessary both from the perspective of the overall public interest and from that of farmers, who constituted the majority of the population. These reforms also narrowed the gaps between workers and farmers and between urban and rural areas.

It was indeed unfortunate that laid-off workers fell from relatively comfortable lives into hardship, but farmers had been struggling in extreme poverty for decades before that. Even after Zhu Rongji’s reforms, workers—especially SOE workers—continued to enjoy far better treatment than farmers and migrant workers. Laid-off workers also generally had greater household assets and financial reserves and higher levels of education than farmers, while both the number and proportion of people living in poverty were higher among farmers.

Even today, Chinese farmers receive an average monthly pension of only RMB 120, far below the average RMB 2,000 received by retired employees of state-owned enterprises and public institutions, and even further below the monthly pensions of several thousand to tens of thousands of RMB received by cadres and civil servants. Suicide among elderly rural residents due to poverty, illness, family conflicts—which themselves are often caused by poverty and related problems—and other factors remains quite common. Scholars, taking Jingshan in Hubei (湖北京山) and Zhuanghe in Liaoning (辽宁庄河) as examples, have systematically documented the tragic circumstances and prevalence of suicide among elderly people in rural areas. For a long time, the suicide rate among rural women has also been significantly higher than that among urban women, as well as higher than the rates among both rural and urban men. This is also a result of multiple forms of oppression and poverty.

The suffering of farmers is clearly no less severe than that of laid-off workers, while being more widespread and enduring. Yet people are more likely to notice the dynamic change of a formerly privileged group falling into hardship, while easily overlooking the “static” plight of vulnerable people who have long remained at the bottom of society and in difficult circumstances.

Over the past three decades and more, there have been quite a few films, television dramas, and literary works depicting the experiences of laid-off workers, including highly acclaimed and well-known productions such as The Piano in a Factory (《钢的琴》) and The Long Season (《漫长的季节》). Yet there are far fewer films, television works, and literary works portraying farmers, who are more numerous, have suffered more severely, and have endured hardship for longer. High-quality film and television productions about them that are also widely familiar to the public are especially scarce, almost nonexistent.

To some extent, this stems from the fact that works depicting the suffering of workers are subject to more lenient censorship, while works dealing with the suffering of farmers face stricter censorship. It is also because workers and their relatives and friends have greater access to cultural and artistic resources, whereas farmers have far fewer such resources and lack opportunities to make their voices heard. This also reflects the unequal distribution of discursive power and the reality that farmers are even more marginalized and “voiceless” than laid-off workers. When the suffering of one group receives attention while that of another is ignored, it also affects how society evaluates, cares for, and assists different groups.

One encouraging development is that, in discussions in recent years about the wave of layoffs and worker-farmer and urban-rural relations, more and more people have noticed and mentioned the longstanding unfair treatment suffered by farmers, viewing the background of the layoffs and the circumstances of different identities and social strata in China at the time from a more comprehensive perspective. I have no intention of denying the suffering experienced by workers who were laid off. I also believe that SOE reform should have been carried out in a more humane manner, with proper arrangements and compensation for workers who suffered losses rather than simply abandoning them, and that crimes such as the embezzlement of resettlement funds should have been punished more severely.

The best outcome of reform is for all parties to benefit and, as far as possible, for no one to be harmed. In reality, however, reform often inevitably causes some people to suffer losses. Whether such reform is necessary and worthwhile must therefore be judged by whether the reform is justified and reasonable, whether it benefits or harms a greater number of people, and through comprehensive consideration and assessment. As for Zhu Rongji’s reforms, although some aspects were crude and radical, they were on the whole necessary and beneficial.

When assessing the advantages and disadvantages of various reforms, as well as the gains and losses experienced by different groups, people should not confine their perspective to one corner of society or to a small number of people. Instead, they should adopt a more comprehensive, balanced, and fair approach, taking into account the interests and concerns of different groups. If people see only one side while ignoring the other, pay attention to one group while forgetting another, or see only the benefits or harms that reform brings to certain people while overlooking the advantages and disadvantages it simultaneously brings to other groups, their judgment will inevitably be biased and unfair.

From ancient times to the present, Chinese farmers have been the group that has performed the hardest labor, endured the greatest suffering, and had the weakest voice in Chinese society. Their lives and dignity are just as precious as those of laid-off workers and people of every other identity and social stratum. Their suffering, too, deserves to be seen; their voices deserve to be heard; and their interests deserve to be taken into consideration.

(This article was written by Wang Qingmin(王庆民), a Chinese writer based in Europe and a researcher in international politics. The original version of this article was written in Chinese.)

I mistakenly reserved flight tickets to China that crosses the golden week😭
Edit: I can’t reschedule or cancel the flights, I’m not that rich 😂 I’m asking for some ideas to make the trip as good as possible..

Arrive in Shanghai on 26 September and Leave from Beijing on 4 October.
I didn’t know there was a holiday and I was shocked when I searched later and saw pics of the crowds and when I read about the number of people going around.

What should I do to get the most out of the trip as much as possible 🥹
I was planning to stay 2 days in Shanghai, 2 in Zhangjiajie, 2 in Chongqing, 2 in Beijing, and lastly I deliberately chose a long layover in Hong Kong to look around before returning to Japan.

Edit: I’m copying exactly a plan from a successful tourist agency, except that they r staying 1 extra day in Shanghai because they’re going to Disney and I’m not, and they’re staying extra 2 days in Beijing.

The problem is I planned to go all the way to beijing just to see and experience the great wall. But it will be during the golden week, is there any way I can avoid the crowd as much as possible? Like arrive super early and reserve everything from early on.

Also will it be crowded before 1 October as well?
Pls tell me some tips, it’s my first time to travel solo without any program or anyone I know there..