Illustration: Liu Xiangya/GT

Who would have imagined that pop singers - once fixtures of music charts and concert stages - would now be venturing into the world of science fiction literature? Yet, that is exactly what happened when one of China's most influential singers, Deng Ziqi, also known as G.E.M., released her first sci-fi novel The Path of Revelation. 

The book sold over 200,000 copies on its first day, with sales eventually exceeding 40 million yuan ($557,536), according to statistics the book's publisher sent to the Global Times. Another female singer, Zeng Yike, also recently published her own sci-fi novel TAYOUZI1 Yinke Xiazai (lit: silver shell download). 

These headlines arrived just after the China Science Fiction Research Center released its 2025 industry report, showing total sci-fi revenue in China reached 108.96 billion yuan in 2024 - marking its second consecutive year above the 100-billion-yuan threshold, with the science fiction reading market alone surging to 3.51 billion yuan, up 10.7 percent year-on-year, according to the Xinhua News Agency.

Star-powered book launches are nothing new in China, where celebrity memoirs, photo books, and inspirational essays routinely top bestseller lists. But this newest wave is different. Rather than relying on personal stories or glossy imagery, stars are stepping into the demanding, often cerebral world of science fiction - a genre long considered niche, even esoteric, in Chinese publishing. 

That G.E.M. and Zeng, both known for their musical talents and immense social reach, should plunge into this literary "new track" speaks volumes about the changing status of science fiction in the country. As Hugo Award-winner and science fiction writer Hai Ya told the Global Times, this is powerful proof that Chinese science fiction's social influence has been growing: More people know about it, more are willing to try it, and the boundaries between entertainment, literature, and technology are blurring fast.

Behind these eye-catching headlines is a deeper, more nuanced story about science fiction's evolution in China. The genre has spent decades growing its base, first among diehard fans of imported classics and "hard" sci-fi, but increasingly among the general reading public. This expansion has been matched by a proliferation of publishing and distribution platforms. 

The days when Chinese sci-fi was confined to a few specialized print magazines are long gone. Now, readers can find new stories in magazines, books, online platforms, and through a wide range of writing competitions and awards. The Xinhua report said that in 2024 alone, 758 new science fiction titles were published in print, with their contribution to overall book sales nearly doubling from 7.1 percent to 14.3 percent year-on-year. On the digital side, revenues from sci-fi e-books and online literature reached 1.84 billion yuan, up a stunning 29.6 percent.

This is not just a story of bigger sales. The content of Chinese science fiction is diversifying at breakneck speed. Classic themes like interstellar voyages and alien civilizations still attract writers and readers, but today's authors are more likely to explore the ethical dilemmas of human-technology integration, the impact of virtual reality on daily life, or the social consequences of artificial intelligence. G.E.M.'s sci-fi work, for example, draws on her background in music, using her imagination to weave a narrative that is at once futuristic and deeply personal. This kind of thematic cross-pollination is emblematic of the genre's new vitality in China, as writers (and now pop stars) push beyond traditional boundaries.

The authorial ecosystem is also expanding. The generation of writers that rose alongside Liu Cixin - whose The Three-Body Problem catapulted Chinese sci-fi onto the global stage - includes widely recognized names like Wang Jinkang, Han Song, and He Xi. In their wake, new talents like Chen Qiufan, Qi Yue (Lit: July), Baoshu, and Zhang Ran have gained prominence, bringing fresh perspectives and literary sophistication to the field. Each cohort builds on the last, learning not only from the technical intricacies of the genre but also from its growing body of knowledge and ambition. There remains room for growth, of course; as the market matures, both the depth and breadth of content will be tested by ever more discerning readers, according to Hai Ya.

Yet, even as science fiction's popularity soars, voices within the literary world urge caution. The entry of celebrities into the field brings undeniable attention and energy, but it can also generate fleeting hype. The challenge for Chinese sci-fi - like any genre experiencing a boom - is to convert this burst of mainstream interest into lasting cultural and artistic achievement. As Hai Ya warns, the journey is just beginning. True influence will be measured not only by sales, but by the genre's ability to inspire, provoke, and endure.

What's certain is that science fiction in China is no longer an obscure subculture. It is a dynamic, multi-faceted force, drawing in readers, writers, and creators from every corner of society. The stories being written now - whether by seasoned authors or adventurous pop stars - are as much about the present as the future. They reflect a society in flux, grappling with questions about technology, identity, and the meaning of progress. As sci-fi becomes ever more mainstream, its role as both a mirror and a map for China's imagination will grow.

For publishers, writers, and readers alike, the surge in sci-fi's popularity is a call to action. The genre's expanding universe offers both opportunity and responsibility. As more voices join the chorus, the challenge will be to ensure that quality, creativity, and exploration remain at the heart of the movement. 

The author is a reporter with the Global Times. life@globaltimes.com.cn