No Japanese acts, no shortage of merch: the China–Japan anime economy that won't wait for diplomats
Bilibili World opened in Shanghai on 10 July 2026 without a single Japanese artist on its main schedule. The fans turned up anyway, and the IP kept selling.

The main stage at Bilibili World in Shanghai went silent on the kind of act that has anchored Chinese fan conventions for more than a decade. When the festival opened on 10 July 2026, no Japanese artists were listed on the programme: no opening theme singers flown in from Tokyo, no voice-actor meet-and-greets, no producer panels. The absence was conspicuous because it was structural. Bilibili World, the annual showcase run by the Shanghai-listed video platform Bilibili, has long been the largest in-person gathering of Chinese otaku culture. In previous years its marquee draw was Japanese talent.
What the schedule lost in performers, the merchandise hall more than replaced. Nikkei Asia reported that the festival drew the same dense crowds of cosplayers and badge-clippers that Chinese fans have come to expect, even with the diplomatic temperature between Tokyo and Beijing at a multi-year low. The point the convention floor made, without anyone putting it on a banner, is that the soft-power relationship between Japan and China now runs two directions at once: one official, one commercial, and increasingly the commercial one is doing the heavy lifting.
A schedule written by two foreign ministries
The empty slots for Japanese acts were not an oversight. Bilibili World's lineup is curated months in advance, and Japanese talent agencies coordinate cross-border appearances through a permission process that ties into the broader consular and cultural-attache machinery. Beijing's restrictions on Japanese content have tightened and loosened in step with the political cycle for years. The current chill is real: trade frictions, defence posturing in the East China Sea, and routine visa friction for Japanese nationals have all been documented in the wire press. Inside that climate, getting a Japanese voice actor onto a Chinese stage is no longer a routine booking. It is a political act that requires both sides to want it.
Neither side appears to want it much right now. That is the framing Nikkei Asia put on the festival opening: a fandom kept on schedule, a diplomatic chill kept on schedule, and the two schedules running on parallel tracks that almost never meet.
The fandom that does not wait
The Chinese anime and manga audience has not shrunk in the chill. Bilibili, the platform, reports hundreds of millions of monthly active users, and the convention circuit it anchors has continued to grow in tier-one and new-tier-one cities. What has changed is the supply chain. Chinese studios have absorbed production capacity that Japanese studios used to dominate: donghua, the domestic animation form, now supplies most of the new IP that Chinese streaming platforms commission. Cosplayers at Bilibili World wore a mix of Japanese-licensed and Chinese-original characters, with a visible tilt toward the homegrown titles that have been promoted through Bilibili's own commissioning programmes.
This is the structural story underneath the festival. Bilibili, like its larger rival Tencent Video, has spent the better part of a decade building an in-house animation pipeline to reduce dependence on Japanese licensors. The licensing relationship has not disappeared; new seasons of major Japanese titles still stream on Chinese platforms with Chinese subtitles. But the centre of gravity on a Chinese convention floor in 2026 is a Chinese studio's IP. The Japanese voice actor is now a guest star. A decade ago, the Japanese voice actor was the headline.
Why Tokyo is the bigger loser in the short term
Tokyo's official cultural diplomacy in China has always worked best when it ran through unofficial channels: concerts, anime screenings, pop-culture tours. Those channels have been throttled. Japanese tourism, which had been on a multi-year recovery trajectory from the pandemic-era collapse, has been visible as a sore point in Japanese economic coverage through 2025 and into 2026, with Chinese visitor arrivals failing to return to their pre-2020 peak.
The Japanese animation industry, for its part, has long depended on the Chinese market as a secondary source of licensing revenue and, in several production partnerships, as a co-financing and outsourcing hub. The current chill does not sever those revenue lines, but it does slow them. Animation projects that depend on cross-border talent exchange have to be retooled. Voice-recording sessions that used to happen in Tokyo studios with Chinese partner-company staff on the line now happen on remote rigs, with their own friction. The commercial cost is not catastrophic, but it is real, and it is concentrated in mid-tier Japanese studios that depend on overseas licensing for a meaningful share of their margins.
The read the wires will not print
There is a counter-narrative worth naming. The dominant framing, especially in English-language coverage, treats the festival's missing Japanese acts as a one-way cultural wall built by Beijing. That framing is incomplete. The decision to clear the schedule of Japanese talent was made inside a Chinese corporate decision-making process responding to a Chinese audience's expectations, set against a Chinese political climate that Japanese agencies also have to weigh before accepting Chinese bookings. Japanese agencies have declined Chinese festival appearances in past cycles for commercial and risk-management reasons of their own. The diplomatic chill is bilateral, and so is the festival's empty stage.
The structural reality underneath is more interesting than the bilateral blame-game. Two of the world's largest cultural markets are de-coupling on the official axis while continuing to integrate on the commercial one. Bilibili World 2026, with its absent Japanese acts and its packed merchandise hall, is the most legible symbol of that split so far. The fandom keeps moving. The diplomats keep not.
The next test will come with the autumn convention calendar. If Chinese studios roll out a slate of donghua that meets the audience's appetite without Japanese headliners, the precedent will harden. If the political climate eases enough to put a Japanese voice actor back on a Chinese main stage, the chill will turn out to have been tactical rather than structural. Neither outcome is determined yet, but the festival floor has already voted with its attendance.
Desk note: Monexus framed the festival story around the structural decoupling of official and commercial soft-power channels, rather than the bilateral blame frame that dominates the wire copy. The Nikkei Asia report is the only primary source on this opening; Monexus did not pad the ledger with additional claims that could not be sourced.
Wire provenance
This editorial synthesis draws on the following public wire/social posts:
- https://t.me/NikkeiAsia
- https://t.me/nikkeiasia
- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bilibili_World
- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Donghua_(animation)