Appeal of wedding ceremonies declining

Hometown stranger

After attending schools in Shaanxi province — where his parents lived for years as migrant workers — Xu in 2011 enrolled at a prestigious university in Beijing, and then landed a well-paid job in Hangzhou.

He said he felt like a stranger in his hometown. His friends are scattered across China, but he said he preferred to save them the trouble of crisscrossing the country to simply witness the moment, even though COVID-19-related travel restrictions had been scrapped.

The 30-year-old met his wife, Gan Ye, four years ago at work. Unlike previous romantic encounters, Xu quickly sensed a rare chemistry with the women from Hubei province. Like her husband, Gan has friends scattered across the country and beyond. She attended college in Hubei, and upon graduation, secured a job in the island province of Hainan, which she later quit for her current position in Hangzhou.

"Always on the move from city to city, it was difficult to cobble together a gathering of guests who we really cared about," she said.

In 2000, only 40 million people lived and worked outside their home province, according to the National Bureau of Statistics. However, that number more than doubled in the following decade, and reached over 124 million in 2020.

Zhang Jing, a researcher on marriage and family issues in Beijing, said greater migration is part of the reason behind the waning appeal of wedding ceremonies among the younger generation.

The cross-regional population flow, which accelerated as a result of urbanization, has broken down the "all-acquaintances" society. As a result, younger people, who usually have a separate circle of friends from their parents, find wedding banquets in their hometown filled with strangers, and they have become reluctant to invest money and effort in such events.

"They have started to ask themselves who the wedding is being held for," Zhang said.

Epidemic hangover

Last year, after being delayed by the epidemic, Xu and Gan registered for a marriage certificate in Hangzhou — where they bought a home and raised a ginger cat. Then, they started a tug-of-war, negotiating with their parents to cut the wedding formalities, which Xu argued were costly, insincere and meaningless.

"The epidemic limited many gatherings and social events, and nothing went awry. That taught me about what really matters to me," Xu said.

Then there was the modest banquet, which he said was his parents' last defense: no emcee; no wedding gown; no photographer; no exchange of rings.

Xu showed up in a sweatshirt and shorts. Shepherded by his mother, Xu and his bride snaked through the tables to greet the guests and express their gratitude.

The roots of the growing zeal for simpler weddings can be found in the disruption caused by the epidemic.

Five years after meeting his girlfriend as a college student, Liu Yiyi proposed in 2020, when much remained unknown about the novel coronavirus.

The couple registered for marriage in Shanghai, Liu's hometown, where he now works in advertising.

To celebrate their union, the 27-year-old reserved just four tables of food at a local restaurant to entertain his in-laws during the National Day holiday in October that year as mass gatherings were discouraged for fear of cluster infections. "It was largely a family event, and no friends were invited," he said.

"The family elders agreed to the plan, because they would be among the most vulnerable if an outbreak hit."

In the summer of 2019, a month before graduation, Gu Ran registered for marriage with her boyfriend, who was at the same college in Beijing. The couple hoped to host a wedding banquet when they had become more financially secure.

Upon graduation, Gu landed a job in Beijing, while her boyfriend became a diplomat and was sent to Europe. Then COVID-19 broke out, making international travel almost impossible, so Gu only managed to visit her boyfriend earlier this year, after China had lifted all pandemic-related travel restrictions. As a result, they have postponed the wedding indefinitely.

"The longer the delay, the less essential the ceremony becomes. Now, it seems that I don't want it anymore," she said.