Fans Turn Chengdu Stairwell into Jane Zhang Shrine, Leaving Residents to Repaint Walls Constantly

The phenomenon resurfaced on social media in mid‑August, when several users posted photographs of the graffiti‑filled passageway, each image bristling with names, Song titles and doodles addressed to the singer. The posts quickly went viral, prompting a flurry of comments from both admirers and nearby residents. One neighbor, who asked to remain anonymous, summed up the sentiment: “They just come, leave a note and walk away. It isn’t noisy, but the walls are a mess.”

Reporters from the local news outlet 正在新闻 (Zhengzai News) visited the site shortly thereafter and spoke with staff from the Huacheng Community (化成社区) office, the administrative body that manages the aging apartment complex where Zhang once lived. A community worker, who preferred not to be named, confirmed that the building is indeed the singer’s former home and that the wall has been painted repeatedly: “We have brushed it countless times. Every few weeks we have to repaint, and then the fans are back the next day.” The official added that the district’s budget for maintenance is tight and that the staff cannot allocate a dedicated team to monitor the stairwell round the clock. “Even if we finish cleaning today, it could be covered again tomorrow,” the worker said.

The issue is not new. The community’s description of “already painted countless times” hints at a longstanding tug‑of‑war between fan enthusiasm and municipal upkeep. While the recent flurry of posts has drawn fresh attention, the problem echoes earlier instances of spontaneous graffiti in Chengdu’s old neighbourhoods. A 2005 news report documented a similar outcry over graffiti on a lane wall, and a 2006 article noted that Zhang performed at the city’s “Music House” bar, underscoring her deep roots in Chengdu.

For the fans, the stairwell has become a pilgrimage site. In Chinese internet culture, “打卡” (dàkǎ, literally “punch‑in” or “check‑in”) is a ritual where supporters visit a location associated with a celebrity, leave a note, and post a photo to signal their devotion. The wall now reads like a scrapbook of admiration, with messages ranging from “Your voice saved my heartbreak” to simple signatures of the fans’ usernames. The practice reflects a broader trend among Chinese pop‑culture followers, who often treat an idol’s past residences, schools or workplaces as quasi‑sacred landmarks.

For the residents of the Huacheng Community, however, the wall poses practical concerns. The endless cycle of painting and re‑graffiti not only drains limited funds but also affects the visual uniformity of a building that already struggles with aging infrastructure. Neighbours have expressed frustration not over noise or safety, but over the repeated effort required to keep the hallways clean and presentable.

Local officials have not yet announced a formal policy response. The community office’s current strategy remains reactive: repaint as often as possible and hope that the effort deters new markings. Some observers suggest that a more proactive approach or, in this case, a graffiti‑lined stairwell—raise new questions for municipal authorities about resource allocation, public‑space stewardship and the boundaries of fan participation.

While the issue has yet to spark broader policy debates, it serves as a microcosm of the challenges that older neighbourhoods face when confronted with contemporary cultural phenomena. For now, the walls of Zhang Liangying’s old Chengdu home will likely continue to oscillate between fresh fan devotion and fresh coats of paint, each layer adding another chapter to the story of a star, her admirers, and the community caught in the middle.