Members of a rural women's dance group perform in Linzhou, Central China's Henan Province, on March 6, 2026. The group, which has been getting a lot of attention online, gathers almost every afternoon to livestream their dance performances. Photo: VCG

What do older people in rural areas do with their days? Work the fields, look after grandchildren or simply sit in the sun and reminisce? In a courtyard in Linzhou, Central China's Henan Province, a lively beat fills the air. A group of rural women averaging around 55 years of age stretch and sway with bright smiles as they livestream themselves dancing, attracting thousands of viewers on Douyin, the Chinese version of TikTok.

Farm work and housework chores fill their days; dancing on livestream offers a fleeting respite that belongs to them alone. This once-niche form of rural livestreaming has become more than just an online sensation. It is an attempt by older people to reclaim a sense of self and a vivid reflection of the changing cultural life in rural China. 


Another way to live

Nearly 60-year-old Jiao Jianyu is the dance group's front-and-center performer. During live streams, she often appears in red, dancing with unmatched fervor, and is frequently singled out by online viewers as the group's standout performer. "Jiao is a natural-born dancer. She can pick up a dance after watching it just once or twice, and there's natural spark and energy in her movements," Chen Hongyu, founder of the rural woman dancing group, told the Global Times.

Off camera, however, Jiao's life is very different. Her husband works as a migrant laborer in the city, leaving her to shoulder the burden of farm work and care for elderly family members and children at home. Her 35-year-old son has an intellectual disability and a cognitive development level comparable to that of a three-year-old, requiring constant care to keep him safe.

It was only after a fan asked if something was troubling her that she began making a conscious effort to smile and appear more cheerful on camera. Since then, fans have cheered her on, with her infectious laughter filling the air. That kind of encouragement, she told the Global Times, is like warm sunshine, easing the hardships of daily life and giving her "fresh motivation to carry on."

Jiao also helps organize the dancers' formations and decide the order of performances during livestreams. She knows the entire dance routine and has a keen eye for the personalities and strengths of local women hoping to join the group. "Those in the front row need to have good memories, since everyone behind follows their lead. Those with a knack for humor help liven things up and draw viewers in," she said shyly.

Asked how livestream dancing had changed her life the most, she said, "These broadcasts give me a change of scenery, allowing me to break free from the tedious, unrelenting routine of housework."

Jiao is not alone in finding a new sense of purpose through dancing. Zhang Ruifang, who is always seen smiling on camera, lost her son late last year. He had loved dancing and, before he passed away, encouraged his mother to do what she loved. 

His encouragement prompted Zhang to take up dancing, helping her cope with her grief. Jiao recalled Zhang telling the group that dancing made her feel as though her son were still by her side, with every step bringing back memories of him.

Li Ying, 55, has also found solace through the group. For years, her mother, who has Alzheimer's disease, required round-the-clock care, leaving Li largely housebound. That changed once the livestreams started. Now she brings her mother along to the dance sessions. The older woman seems to enjoy the lively atmosphere, and her mood has noticeably brightened. For Li, the change has brought some much-needed relief after years of caregiving.

"Life has dealt me its hardships and burdens, yet I refuse to wallow in self-pity. Life is not just about getting by. It's about finding joy," Li said.

Chen explained that most of these women, facing age-related and other barriers, struggle to find work outside the village. Meanwhile, cultural and recreational activities in the village are few and far between. "When we first started the livestreams, we simply wanted to give them something to do and let them see that there is another way to live," he said. 


Bright glow

Now, 40 to 50 older women take part in the livestreams each day. This informal dance group has attracted more than 270,000 followers on Douyin, with its livestreams regularly drawing thousands of concurrent viewers. The women earn roughly 50 yuan ($7.50) a day through livestreaming.

For them, that modest income means more than just money. "Dancing gives me something to look forward to every day, and I can also earn a little extra to help with household expenses," Jiao said. "It makes me feel that even at my age, I can still realize my own potential."

The props they use add a homespun charm. Lion heads, colored balls and wooden horses are all handmade by the women themselves, reworked from discarded materials. The approach keeps costs down, but it also weaves local creativity into every performance, turning the props into a highlight of the livestream room.

Although their dance moves lack professional polish and their choreography is simple, the women's unpretentious charm has struck a chord with many netizens. "They don't strive for perfection, they simply enjoy dancing. There's a warmth in their everyday lives that reminds me how ordinary people can make even the simplest lives shine," one netizen wrote.

Jia Zhiwen, head of the village's Party committee, said livestreams have brought the village greater online visibility, while also challenging traditional stereotypes of rural women and enriching their spiritual lives during the agricultural off-season.

As for the future, the troupe members have no grand plans. "Holding hope for tomorrow is the best plan of all," Jiao said.