ATONER FOR THE BROKEN HEARTS

When love ends, what happens to the mementos? It's a question faced by most couples who part ways. Fortunately, a waste disposal center in North China's Hebei province seems to provide a solution. The facility in Langfang shreds hundreds of wedding photos and sends them to a power plant incinerator, where they are turned to dust, much like those once happy marriages.

The business has proved a hit with more than 200 clients, who have sent various keepsakes, mainly wedding photos, from across the country. Liu Wei, a 41-year-old resident of Beijing, launched the service early last year, which has helped people destroy their unwanted personal items, such as smartphones, laptops and documents.

"As a marketing gimmick, wedding photos are just part of our business. It was beyond my expectations how much it caught the public and media's attention. Maybe it is the emotions and stories behind the need for the service that resonates with shifting attitudes toward marriage," Liu says.

These changes in attitude are reflected in the latest data from the Ministry of Civil Affairs, which shows that in the first three quarters of last year, more than 1.97 million couples registered for divorce, up 1.4 percent year-on-year.

"Divorce, which used to be a social taboo, is no longer a topic that people feel cannot be discussed publicly. It is a common phenomenon, which can be seen among those born in the late 1970s and early '80s. I have seen so many people divorce, and some, although still married, go on dates with other people," Liu says.

Talking about why the memento disposal service became such a hit, he says that maybe it provides a discussion platform for different opinions to be heard.

Under his posts on short video platform Douyin, a comment from one user with the handle "Caicai "says: "It is a surprise to find that the strongest part of a marriage is the wedding photos." Although that sounds ironic, for many couples in China, tearing up wedding photos after a failed marriage is — quite literally — not an easy task.

Pre-wedding photo shoots are a popular part of the country's modern wedding culture. Usually costing a lot of money, from hundreds to tens of thousands yuan, these fantasy photos are printed on tough, acrylic canvases, which are fireproof.

"In conclusion, there is not a proper way to deal with these photos when a relationship ends," Liu says, adding that some canvases are so solid that they cannot be cut by scissors or damaged with a hammer, while some people think it brings bad luck to burn photos of the living.

So far, thousands of people, more than 60 percent of whom are female, have added Liu's WeChat account to consult his business about the service. When a decision is made, customers will mail their package, including photos, wedding dresses and other mementos, to the center. Prices vary depending on the weight of the package. A set of wedding photos weighing about 5 kilograms costs 89 yuan ($12.37) for disposal.

According to Liu, to protect privacy, the faces on the photos will be concealed with spray paint before being put into the shredder. He will record or livestream the shredding process on-site, and send the video to clients.

Liu thinks that for some people, his service acts as a cathartic ritual that provides closure, helping them leave the past behind and move forward.

He adds that besides photos, various keepsakes including wedding shoes, quilts and diaries, have been sent to the center.

Although sticking to his principle of never poking into his clients' private affairs, Liu says that some people see him as a "tree hole" for their stories of heartbreak, with the longest consult he conducted lasting from the afternoon to midnight.

There was a woman from Shandong province, who kept complaining to Liu that her husband has been cheating on her for several years and that she has raised their son on her own. After more than an hour, she still couldn't make up her mind whether to file for divorce or not.

"When people like her keep talking about their relationship, it indicates that they are still hesitating. Because it is a big step for them, I will be a listener and let them think carefully before making a final decision," Liu says.

Although emphasizing that business is business, Liu admits that the emotional support takes up a lot of time in his daily communication with potential clients.

He remembers a man from Baoding, Hebei, who contacted him to destroy his wedding photos immediately after the package was delivered. But, the next day, the man said the plan might change. The day after that, he texted: "My wife is back."

Since then, Liu has arranged a storage service for clients who are still on the fence about whether to move forward with the disposal.

Having heard hundreds of tales of betrayal, Liu says that his heart has hardened somewhat, but those of death, grief and loss still resonate.

In April last year, Liu posted a video on Douyin after a man asked him to shred a bunch of orange roses to say goodbye to his ex-girlfriend, who passed away during the COVID-19 pandemic. He recently got married to his new partner and need a sense of closure, but did not want to make his wife feel uncomfortable.

In December, a man called Liu to shred his wedding photos after the sudden death of his wife. The man asked Liu to conceal the faces carefully, because his parents-in-law hadn't yet learned the sad news.

"Every time I receive such requests, it touches my heart, and I hope my service can alleviate their grief," Liu says.

Since his business hit headlines, several film directors, authors and artists have contacted him seeking cooperation or inspiration. Liu rejects most of them, because he doesn't want the pain and suffering of others to become a commodity. An artist wanted to use the shredded pieces in an artwork, but Liu refused, to protect the privacy of his clients.

However, he has agreed to cooperate with A Mom, a Beijing-based charity that supports single mothers. When he receives clients who are single mothers, Liu will help the charity reach the ones in need.

While most comments on his video carry a positive attitude toward his business, some take a more acidic tone. A Douyin user named Dayangcong writes that it is an industry that "thrives on the soaring divorce rate". Another describes the service as "a mass grave for love".

No matter what people say about the business, Liu says that he feels a sense of achievement from the feedback he receives from his clients.

Although he hasn't yet made a profit from the business, Liu believes it is a promising market, which is not only about earning money, but also about repairing hearts that were once broken.