Every winter, especially during this bitterly cold season, it's once again the annual lament of southerners (those living south of the centralized heating line). This is the eternal tide in the Chinese internet discourse, but as long as southern China remains without heating, this resentment will never fade.
However, northerners spoiled by heating might not realize that southerners don't just huddle resentfully under icy blankets, enduring long nights with curses and willpower. In fact, each employs maximum autonomy and exhausts every possible means to keep warm.
Southerners' heating methods showcase wisdom and cunning; warmth and tradition; technological progress and social evolution... In a sense, the violently hot, monotonously uniform northern heating has long stifled northerners' imagination of winter life. Meanwhile, southerners preserve a precious philosophy of outwitting cold air through versatile, flexible, and ingenious heating approaches that balance external and internal warmth.
Indeed, to assess whether a southerner can handle life with ease, just observe how gracefully they survive the bitter winter.
When a southerner tries to warm their living space, the most important method is undoubtedly gathering around fire.
Unlike northern villages' integrated heating systems, southern fire-warming devices are typically standalone, at most featuring a dug-out fire pit - easy to stow away during sweltering summers, out of sight and mind.
These devices are variations on a theme: fire basins, fire barrels, or fire boxes - metal containers for charcoal wrapped in wooden or bamboo casings. The fire basin is an open, simple bowl, while the fire barrel's clever insulation allows direct sitting without roasting one's bottom.
Fire-warming devices range from small to large. The tiny ones, like Sichuan's "honglong'er" (some call it "huodou'er"), are handheld bamboo baskets carried everywhere - even visiting, shopping, or attending school. Large ones include massive family-sized fire basins and the distinctive stove-table: a heating surface extending from the stove becomes a dining table for roasting oranges, dates, sweet potatoes, nuts, or brewing tea (Hubei families might simmer lotus root and pork rib soup), creating cozy family gatherings that make long winter nights bearable.
Anthropologists note fire's magical energetic aura - why ancient ancestors taught by bonfires. Southerners similarly enjoy wondrous domestic harmony around winter flames.
Beyond warmth and atmosphere, fire delivers unique flavors. Guizhou and Sichuan bacon often smokes incidentally during heating. Post-Spring Festival pig slaughtering, families circle fire basins roasting potatoes and sweet potatoes while curing hanging bacon and sausages. The heat waves and aromas create joyful afternoons for children during gloomy weather.
While other regions barbecue for gluttony, Yunnanese barbecue is a byproduct of hearth-warming. Around Jianshui, families idly ignite fire basins, set up grills for tofu, peppers, tomatoes, potatoes, milk fans... Guests come and go, coals replenished, making all-day leisurely barbecue a distinctive local lifestyle.
With electrification, heaters like "little suns," blowers, baseboard heaters, oil radiators, and electric fire boxes flood markets. Currently, with sufficient electricity budgets, southerners needn't worry about inadequate home heating.
Yet old-school southerners still cherish fire-era warmth. Beyond heating efficiency, preserving flame-era traditions becomes key when purchasing electric heaters.
Coffee tables are largely useless in northern homes - their shelves just store old junk, expired snacks, and cats. But southern winter coffee tables may conceal secrets.
Heating tables - southern marvels inheriting stove-table traditions. Seemingly ordinary tables or tea tables actually hide heating elements underneath. Covered, they warm feet while allowing cool, moist air for breathing. Upscale families even buy adjustable models: lowered as intimate heating tea tables for TV-watching couples; raised for group activities like mahjong or hotpot - combining a stove's romantic warmth with electric safety, the premium choice for quality southern winters.
Notably, besides "fire faction," southern tradition preserves "water faction" heating. Beyond hot-water bottles, many reused IV saline/glucose bottles filled with bedtime hot water to combat "quilts cold as iron for years."
In historically affluent Suzhou, the hot-water vessel became exquisite art: "Tangpopo." Locals crafted these so beautifully they became dowry items. Even utilitarian heaters attained aesthetic value, like Song dynasty's carved coal art - a splendid cultural facet.
Maximizing and preserving body heat through food and clothing constitutes every unheated southerner's winter philosophy. Southerners visiting northeastern homes often gawk at or blush over their hosts' unrestrained indoor attire.
Northeasterners maintain strict indoor/outdoor dress codes: down jackets belong outdoors - wearing them indoors disrespects domestic sanctity. Thermal underwear (note: northeastern "xianeryi xianerku" means base layers) are eternal home uniforms, even for hosting guests. The skimpier the indoor wear, the better it showcases heating superiority.
But for southerners, especially along the Yangtze, winter homecomings mean changing into thicker clothes. Mothers even tuck next day's outfits under blankets to pre-warm them, ensuring they won't sap body heat at dawn - the cruel clothing tale of extreme damp cold.
Indeed, modern down jackets can address most warmth needs, yet under such demanding clothing requirements, they fall short in terms of flexibility and durability. Through years of daily practice, a category of clothing known as "provincial attire" has gradually stood out in several provinces plagued by damp and cold winters.
Originally, "provincial attire" was an affectionate term used by young people in the Xiang River basin for a specific type of cotton sleepwear. Over time, the concept expanded to refer to winter fashion that excels in warmth, dominates provincial trends in style, is durable and affordable, easy to wash and replace, sells astonishingly well, yet remains relegated to second-tier e-commerce platforms and wholesale markets for small goods.
Provincial sleepwear is typically made of flannel, stuffed with thick cotton, and adorned with cartoon or floral patterns from two decades ago. The cut is bulky yet inexplicably reassuring, and most crucially, priced at around 100 yuan or even less. As sleepwear, manufacturers likely designed it for indoor wear. In practice, however, given its exceptional warmth and versatility, people tend to treat it as a semi-permanent outer layer welded to their bodies.
Calling cotton sleepwear the "Hunan provincial attire" isn’t entirely accurate, as its prevalence is equally high in Hunan, Hubei, Anhui, and even Chongqing. At home, it’s a given, but you’ll also spot men and women wearing it with ease on electric bikes wrapped in quilts, in markets, cinemas, cafés, and office buildings. These cotton sleepwear outfits, appearing equally in all settings, perfectly dissolve the boundaries between public and private spaces, spreading a cozy, casual, and unhurried home atmosphere into every crevice of society.
As for the winter provincial attire of Sichuan and Chongqing—aprons, sleeves covers, and smocks—their primary function isn’t just cold protection but practicality taken to the extreme. Sichuan-Chongqing provincial attire comes with certain sartorial prerequisites: only advanced men who can cook are qualified to layer aprons and sleeves covers over their glossy black cotton jackets, adapting nimbly to the complex scenarios of winter life in the region. Whether slicing cured meat for family, cooking over a fire, washing dishes, or helping at communal feasts… in rural labor and social life, a slightly worn, grease-stained apron instantly makes a Sichuan-Chongqing man appear full and profound.
On social media platforms, with Jiangxi’s blue ninja raincoats and Shandong’s military coats joining the ranks, the provincial attire camp is growing ever larger… Beyond shared traits like warmth and affordability, their true commonality lies in how utterly they defy all fashion trends.
A proper provincial attire never bows to mainstream fashion. More intriguingly, despite their varied patterns, they share a covert visual unity. In frigid climates, those clad in provincial attire shed all pretenses of consumerism, returning to a simple pursuit of warmth and convenience. Under the vast sky, everyone looks unapologetically rustic and blissfully warm—perhaps the extra meaning "provincial attire" brings to modern society beyond its cold-proof function.
The history of centralized heating in China is shorter than most imagine. Until 1980, only 10 northern cities provided residents with such services.
For northerners, especially rural residents, every winter was a brutal battle. They spent immense time, energy, and money just to stay warm. While southerners sought comfort and dignity, northerners fought to avoid freezing to death.
As a northeasterner, I recall my grandmother’s coal shed storing winter fuel. Each late autumn, the family spent a week sealing window gaps, pasting newspapers on walls, and draping quilts over doors. Every winter morning, Grandma chopped firewood and molded coal briquettes in the snow to keep the stove burning. Looking back, the warmth of the heated kang (bed-stove) and walls was built on her endless toil.
Thanks to centralized heating, such hardships are now memories. Few know that of the "Three Northeastern Treasures"—ginseng, deer antler, and wula grass—the last was stuffed into shoes for insulation. Today, northeasterners lounge in heated homes, bare-chested, eating popsicles, reminiscing bittersweetly. Meanwhile, southerners linger in an awkward in-between, half-envious, half-resentful.