Beyond Liu Cixin: 5 New Translated Chinese SFF Books

When talking about new titles for 2025, it seems peculiar to list one penned back in 1905, but as China scholars turn their gaze to genre fiction, the likes of this gem of the late imperial era have finally made their way into translation. One of the earliest native science fiction works by a renowned author of suspense and strange tales Wu Jianren, this is the story of Jia Baoyu, the protagonist of the classic Dream of the Red Mansion, transported a hundred years into the future to a twofold world: a semi-colonial civilisation of decadence reflective of Wu’s own time, and a Confucian utopia, replete with flying cars and advanced medical tech more akin to the golden age sci-fi we know so well. This chunky read is not only an engaging evolution of a cornerstone classic with a dedicated international respect, but a fast-paced romp through Wu’s wild imagination. 

Of the “four great Kehuan masters”, Han Song, with his Bradbury-Kafka style, is my personal favourite. In China, where tastes have traditionally been hard, almost educational sci-fi, Han’s work is considered alternative. To the rest of the world, this excellent writer blends science seamlessly into his unique visions. Few other writers have explored the sociocultural impact of technology on society from the macro to the grassroot as profoundly as Han, with his idiosyncratic blend of sociological realism, absurdist plotlines and surrealist nightmares. Although isolation and alienation are common themes in Han’s work, there can often be found a sense of wonder. The protagonist of Hospital goes on a business trip with a stay in a luxury hotel, but finds himself hospitalised after a stomach ache, unable to get out, he wanders into the hospital’s labyrinths. Exorcism, the second volume, sees him discovering the disturbing secrets hidden within the hospital ship run by robots. In this finale of the trilogy, the protagonist, still confined to the Geriatric Ward, wakes up on Mars. As the patients uncover the sinister Pool of Dead Souls, riot and chaos ensue. 

(From Eastern Wood, featuring fiction by Su Chen, Zhong Tuiyi, Wang Xiaohai, WayMo, Zhao Chong, Zhang Jiafeng and nonfiction by Jovanni; translated by Sarah Waldram, He Tianxing, Asteria Lan, Deng Weitian, Heaven Earth Man, Alexis Wu, Xueting C. Ni and Synergy Translation)

With a shift to the digital over the past decades, the concept of Heavy Industry seems mainly confined to a history of labour oppression and environmental pollution, which the West have convinced themselves they have surpassed. In China, where a lot of countries shifted their manufacturing, sci-fi usually focuses on characters who are educated scientists and skilled technicians. Between the two, this relatively untapped field is rife to generate some of the most relevant fiction. This collection of new and unknown writers brings our attention to socially marginalised and ordinary workers, whose fates become entwined with much grander schemes, shedding light on conditions of life away from China’s metropolises, in lesser-known regions like Hubei and Shenyang. Two pranksters find themselves in charge of saving Earth, a low-skilled Chinese worker grows up in the post-apocalyptic metal cities beneath the ocean, and a petty thief encounters the unexpected side-effects of a giant particle collider. 

One of my favourite contemporary SFF writers is the web novelist known as Priest. With a solid and unadorned literary style, this is a writer capable of vivid colloquialisms and sophisticated commentary, incisive characterisation and panoramic world building. She comfortably straddles multiple genres, from silk punk and A.U. fantasy, to dark thrillers and crime. This science fiction series brings us a world of the distant future, with the universe in peace under a galactic alliance, except for a few space pirates. The cyber-altered human brain can access, at will, any software or AI under the ubiquitous Eden System, but behind this seeming utopia is a great lie. A pandemic of “Empty Brain Syndrome” is being kept quiet as sufferers vanish to a star system on the edge of colonised space. A spacefaring epic with topical themes, disenfranchised perspectives and queer dynamics make this a prime example of why Priest’s work will always find a way into my TBR pile. 

Before I start, I need to express how much I loathe the English title. It’s such a hangover from a colonial attempt at belittling national beliefs, and the fact we are still living with the fallout of this in 2025, irks me. That said, I DO recommend this book.

There has been a huge global explosion of interest in C-drama, Xianxia and Wuxia, with series like The Untamed, and Word Of Honour hitting the public consciousness in the same way anime seemed to arrive in the early nineties. Having written about China’s internet literature over the last decade, the partnership between Seven Seas’ and Jinjiang (China’s biggest female-led online publishing platform) was tremendous, and I was delighted to see them widening their range beyond their standard BL/danmei, with the acquisition of Jiu Lu Fei Xiang’s novel. The television adaption has already hit Netflix, with that god-awful title, but the success it has found means that I’m sure this book will be exceptionally well received. JLFX sails the crest of the current Chinese myth renaissance of mesmerising retellings and continuations of traditional legends, here dishing up a favourite trope of the Xuanhuan (eastern fantasy) genre, the fearsome dark overlord falling for the tenderest of the sunshine ones.