Spirit of the Long March alive on stage

Spirit of the Long March alive on stageThespian uses experiences from army to portray a soldier's characterBy LI LEI in Yan'an, Shaanxi | China Daily | Updated: 2026-08-10 09:05

Bao Yijun plays Liu Baoshun, a fictional Red Army soldier, in the immersive drama production,Back to Yan'an. [Photo provided to CHINA DAILY]

Army veteran Bao Yijun knows all too well how a well-meaning gesture can save a life and doesn't have to dig too deep for inspiration when portraying a soldier driven to survive.

In 1987, a passing soldier shared three tins of food with him during a military operation amid China's border conflict with Vietnam, saving him from starvation.

And decades later, Bao gets to relive a similar experience on stage: his character in an immersive play in Yan'an, Shaanxi province, survives the Long March (1934-36) on a fallen comrade's final words.

In both lives, Bao is a survivor because of another's goodwill.

That shared experience — one real, one performative — is what drew the former army scout toBack to Yan'an, a 65-minute immersive drama production that takes viewers through a walking-style experience. According to local media reports, the production has staged nearly 4,350 shows for close to 650,000 visitors since its 2021 debut.

Bao, now 60, plays the aging Liu Baoshun, a fictional Red Army soldier who carries a red flag given to him by his dying squad leader during the Red Army's Long March, a strategic military shift from Jiangxi province to northern Shaanxi.

On stage, Liu opens his diary and is transported back to the frozen grasslands he crossed decades earlier. Pressing the flag to his chest, he hears the words of fallen comrades, "Baoshun, you must carry our hope forward."

Immersive expeditions

For Bao, the moment is not merely acting — it mirrors his own memory of receiving sustenance from a stranger whose name he never learned.

Bao, a native of Changzhi in neighboring Shanxi province, joined the army in 1984. He had failed the college entrance examination and faced pressure from his father, also a soldier. Before leaving home, he vowed not to return until he had distinguished himself as a soldier.

Three years later, during an intelligence mission on the China-Vietnam border that ran over schedule, Bao ran out of supplies. A passing soldier gave him three tins of food, which kept him alive for half a month.

That debt — owed to a stranger whose face he barely recalled — drove Bao to search for the man for years after leaving the military, launching a social media campaign under the hashtag "Looking for a Comrade".

The quest remains unfinished.

When the production team put out a casting call in 2021, Bao signed up immediately. "I am Liu Baoshun, and Liu Baoshun is me," he said after five years of performing the role.

He sees clear parallels: Liu crossed snowcapped mountains and marshes with unwavering belief; Bao carried out missions amid exploding shells and lost comrades, but never retreated.

"That firm conviction was passed down from Liu to me, and through the play I pass it on to the audiences," he said.

Unlike traditional Red-themed dramas,Back to Yan'anremoves the boundary between the stage and the audience entirely. The show unfolds across 4,500 square meters, guiding up to 500 visitors through four acts without fixed seating.

Simulated snow, wind, as well as sound-and-light effects recreate the harsh environments endured during the Long March, enabling spectators to walk through history rather than watch from afar. "It feels far more personal than listening to a lecture," Bao said.

The production is part of a broader shift in Yan'an, a city that markets itself as a "revolutionary museum" with 445 revolutionary sites, 30 museums and 13 patriotic education bases. In recent years, authorities have moved beyond static exhibits to offer interactive, technology-driven experiences — and data suggests the approach is working.

According to ticketing platform Ly.com, travelers ages 18 to 34 now account for half of the audience for revolutionary-themed attractions across China, a clear sign that immersive storytelling is resonating with younger generations.

That generational pull is palpable during aBack to Yan'anproduction.

Bao plays out a scene on stage in Yan'an city, Shaanxi province. [Photo provided to CHINA DAILY]

Emotional resonance

During one performance, Bao noticed a young boy standing nearby and watching intently as he wrote in a diary on stage. When Bao looked up, the boy raised his hand in a salute. Bao stood and returned it. "I was moved," he said. "Seeing his salute, I felt we had succeeded, bringing the Long March spirit to more people."

Other spectators have cried, called out mid-show, or reached out to touch Bao's sleeve as they passed — small, unscripted moments that show how deeply the experience reaches across ages.

At the end of every performance, a red flag descends slowly from above and audience members reach up to touch it. For Bao, the gesture echoes the scene in which his character receives the flag from a fallen squad leader. Just as Liu once took the flag, and Bao took the conviction from Liu, the audience catches not only a piece of cloth but the embodied spirit of perseverance.

"The production is brilliantly conceived. Heroes come from the people, so we place the performers right among them — making the audience feel that Red Army soldiers are just like them, their neighbors, their family," he said.

The show's increasing popularity coincides with the dwindling number of Long March survivors — now estimated to be in single digits. On July 22, Wang Quanying, China's last surviving female Red Army veteran of the Long March, died at her home in Dujiangyan, Sichuan province. She was 105.

Her family said her only regret was not living to see the official commemoration of the 90th anniversary of the Long March victory on Oct 22. Even as that generation fades, the show has found a powerful resonance with veterans of later wars — thanks largely to Bao's own wartime past. As news of Bao's battlefield experience spread, the production began attracting veterans of the 1980s border conflict.

One former military medic, who now has a disability, traveled to Yan'an specifically to find him. After watching the first act, he waited alone in the lobby — not knowing Bao's name or how to reach him. When Bao emerged from backstage, the man saluted. Bao returned it. Both had fought on the front lines of Laoshan, Yunnan province, during the border conflict. They embraced. The former medic, a Shaanxi native, told Bao he had come hoping to meet a fellow survivor. They talked for hours. "I've spent years looking for my comrades. But this time, I didn't find them — they found me," Bao said.

Jia YaxinandLi Guotaocontributed to this story.

lilei@chinadaily.com.cn