Long before social media and camera lenses, ancient
China had its own “paparazzi” who wielded ink, paper and a sharp tongue to unsettle the lives of the powerful.In those days, gossip was more than idle chatter; it formed an informal information network linking teahouses, stage stations, street tabloids and officialdom.During the
Eastern Han dynasty (25–220), the imperial court established the
Censorate, a body charged with monitoring official conduct.Its censors watched for misconduct that might attract imperial scrutiny, including adultery, dereliction of duty, tax evasion and corruption.Ancient teahouses, like the one above, were popular places to pick up information. Photo: RedNoteBy the
Tang Dynasty (618–907), the institution resembled an intelligence agency, reportedly divided into Left and Right bureaus.The Left tracked officials and military affairs in the capital, while the Right gathered reports from the provinces, including local quirky stories.Such revelations were far from trivial. A single piece of gossip could derail an official’s career and damage their family’s standing.One often cited case involved the Tang official
Xu Jingzong, who reportedly married his younger daughter to the son of a tribal chieftain in exchange for a lavish bride price.The above image depicts what men gathering information would look like in ancient
China. Photo: RedNoteWhen censors uncovered the arrangement and reported it to the throne, the emperor viewed the marriage as an affront to dynastic dignity and demoted Xu.In the
Song dynasty (960-1279), some ambitious students and scholars failed the civil service examinations but were unwilling to let their talent go to waste.Shut out of official careers and unable to serve as court historians, they turned instead to the private lives of the royal families.Historical accounts suggest they lingered in teahouses and stage stations, overhearing conversations between officials and their servants, before turning the gossip into small pamphlets for street distribution.The above audience is all ears as a storyteller, centre, imparts some tales. Photo: RedNoteAnother key figure in ancient
China’s gossip industry was the storyteller, a kind of precursor to today’s live-stream host and one of the quickest civilian channels for spreading gossip in ancient times.Further ReadingAudiences listened not only for historical anecdotes and martial arts tales but also for gossip about the nobles.Some storytellers took short pieces written by scholars and turned them into lively performances, using exaggerated delivery and expressive gestures to recount tales of adultery, disgrace and demotion.The above image depicts a boy selling newspapers in ancient
China. Photo: RedNoteMany of these stories were never verified, yet they travelled rapidly by word of mouth.The Song poet Lu You captured one such scene in his poem, describing a blind storyteller beating a drum while telling stories to a crowd of fascinated villagers.During the
Song dynasty, official gazettes were the government’s main channel for circulating news across the country.But readers did not rely on court bulletins alone, they also eagerly consumed unofficial tabloids brimming with scandal and gossip.According to Important affairs at court and in the country, some merchants recruited shrewd, well-connected people and planted them in government offices to secure inside information.What a newspaper printing house would have looked like in ancient times, above. Photo: RedNoteThe nei tan, or “inner informants”, specialised in palace secrets, bribing palace maids for news of the emperor’s latest romantic affairs.Others tracked murder cases, gathering details from prisoners in jail.Then there were the sheng tan, or “governmental informants”, who specialised in political news and cultivated ties with officials’ servants to uncover corruption, affairs and other scandals.Not even the famed Song philosopher Zhu Xi escaped such scrutiny.He was accused of an affair with his daughter-in-law and was rumoured to have nearly killed a courtesan for political ends.Some tabloid publishers mastered the woodblock printing technology of the day, replacing hand copying and greatly speeding up production.According to Ancient matters from Wulin Garden, sales of such tabloids ranked second among all forms of trade in the city.To attract readers and drive circulation, these privately run sheets also fabricated stories.One such case emerged in 1110, when public anger was running high over the corruption and abuses of the Song chancellor Cai Jing.A tabloid, posing as the voice of the emperor, denounced Cai’s many crimes and falsely claimed that he had already been arrested.In your face: The modern day paparazzi wield their cameras at a target. Photo: Getty ImagesThe rumour spread so widely that the emperor was forced to issue an edict in person to set the record straight and offer a reward for information leading to the arrest of those responsible.As the tabloids grew bolder, officials accused them of peddling falsehoods and profiting from the exposure of private lives.The complaints eventually reached the emperor.The government responded with a series of bans, offering rewards to those who reported tabloid operators and their informants. Writers and publishers, if caught, faced exile.At the same time, it imposed systems of mutual surveillance in offices seen as especially prone to leaks.