Our phrase of the week is: “imposter hotel” (李鬼酒店 lǐ guǐ jiǔ diàn)
Context
An unusual story hit the top of social media hot search lists in the last week.
It started when a tourist in Dalian walked past a hotel during the Labour Day holiday. It was the Ji Hotel (全季) — a mid-range hotel chain with over 1,100 locations across China and one of the country’s most recognisable budget-to-midscale brands. The brand name directly translates as “All” (全) “Seasons” (季).
The tourist noticed something was off about the characters on the hotel sign. On a second glance, they realised the character for “season” (季 jì) had been replaced by the character for the common surname Li (李 lǐ).
To the untrained or non-native eye, these characters look the same. But the character for “season” (季) has one extra stroke at the top, without which it turns into the common surname, a completely different Chinese character.
Over the days after the image of this “Li Hotel” being posted online, social media users across the country shared sightings of other hotels with names almost identical to well-known chains, but with subtle tweaks to the characters in their names.
This is not a new phenomenon in China.
And there’s even a word for it:
These “impostor hotels” range from new establishments simply piggybacking on a brand name to former franchisees whose contracts have lapsed.
Guests typically only realise something is off once they’ve already checked in. But with prices cheaper than the legitimate chain and facilities that are functionally adequate, most will just vent their frustration on social media rather than take up the matter with the authorities.
这类”李鬼酒店”有些是纯蹭名字的新店，有些是合约到期的前加盟商。消费者往往入住了才发现不对，但价格比正规连锁便宜，设施也能凑活住，大多不会特意维权，顶多在评论区、社交媒体吐槽。
And with that, we have our Sinica Phrase of the Week.
What it means
“Impostor hotel” is our translation of a four-character expression which breaks down into two parts: “Li Gui” (李鬼), “hotel” (酒店).
“Li Gui” is a character in Water Margin (水浒传), one of China’s Four Great Classical Novels, written in the Ming Dynasty (1368–1644) and attributed to Shi Nai’an (施耐庵). The story of Li Gui appears in Chapter 43, The Impostor Li Kui Robs Travellers on the Road; the Black Whirlwind Kills Four Tigers on Yi Ridge (假李逵剪径劫单人，黑旋风沂岭杀四虎).
Li Gui is a small-time bandit who impersonates another character in the story, Li Kui (李逵), nicknamed the Black Whirlwind (黑旋风). The Black Whirlwind is a beloved and famous outlaw, fearsome, loyal, impulsive, and known for wielding twin axes. His name alone is enough to strike fear into people.
In the story, Li Gui smears black ink on his face, takes up two axes, and haunts the mountain roads posing as Li Kui, extorting passers-by for money and their belongings.
Li Gui turned this into a profitable business. Until the day he tried it on the real Li Kui. When Li Gui tries his act on Li Kui, he is knocked to the ground by the real bandit and begs for his life. He claims he has a ninety-year-old mother at home with no one to care for her. So Li Kui, who is himself on his way home to fetch his own elderly mother, takes pity on him.
But first, Li Kui makes clear exactly who Li Gui has been impersonating:
“I am the very hero of the underworld, the Black Whirlwind Li Kui! You cur — you have dishonoured my name!”
“我正是江湖上的好汉黑旋风李逵便是！你这厮辱没老爷名字！”
Li Kui lets him go, even pressing ten silver taels into his hands. But mercy proves a mistake. That evening, Li Kui stumbles upon Li Gui’s house while looking for food, and overhears Li Gui plotting with his wife to drug and kill hero. So Li Kui kills Li Gui on the spot.
Over the centuries the name “Li Gui” (李鬼) entered mainstream language as shorthand for any fake sheltering behind someone else’s name and reputation. In modern Chinese, it means an impostor, a fake, a counterfeit, anyone or anything passing itself off as the real thing.
There’s an extra linguistic twist in this week’s story. The impostor Li Hotel swapped the character for “season” (季) for the surname Li (李) — the same character as Li Gui himself.
Just as Li Gui borrowed Li Kui’s fearsome name to rob travellers on the road, these hotels borrow the names of well-known chains to generate bookings.
Andrew Methven is the author of RealTime Mandarin, a resource which helps you bridge the gap to real-world fluency in Mandarin, stay informed about China, and communicate with confidence—all through weekly immersion in real news. Subscribe for free here.
