While a chill grips northern China, Guangzhou, the capital of southern Guangdong province, still hums with sun and motion.
Along its tree-lined avenues, joggers in shorts glide past lampposts adorned with banners for the 15th National Games, flashes of red and gold fluttering against a cobalt sky.
This edition of the National Games, China's premier multi-sport event, has broken new ground by spanning three engines of the Greater Bay Area: Guangdong, Hong Kong and Macao.
Unlike the Asian Winter Games held earlier this year, which brought snow sports to remote northeast Chinese towns, Guangzhou is no stranger to large-scale events.
So what can another major event bring to a city already fluent in global spectacles and with GDP exceeding 3 trillion yuan (about 423 billion US dollars)?
For Guangzhou, the answer appears not in fireworks, but in something quieter and deeper: a mirror to its own evolution.
THE FUTURE IS HERE
China's technological achievements are on full display in Guangzhou, spilling from labs into the streets and stadiums.
Near the gleaming Canton Tower, a 13,000-square-meter smart exhibition center opened just in time for the games, which kicked off on November 9.
Inside, it showcases the latest products from more than 30 local tech firms. Humanoid robots play football, mechanical dogs haul cargo and drones perform mapping and delivery demonstrations.
"We hope the games can be a window," said Lu Yuanyin, a staff member at the center, gesturing toward a wall of touch screens and drones. "A way to show the world what Guangzhou's innovation can do - for science education, and maybe for business, too."
Technology is deeply integrated into the games themselves. A robotic dog named MAXHUB X7 patrols venues, scanning for fire hazards and unusual temperatures. More than 130 other high-tech applications, from AR wallets to self-driving shuttles, support operations.
The games feel less like a showcase of medals than of imagination - a statement that the future has already arrived, whether on robotic legs or electric wheels.
A CITY AT EASE
The exhibition center sits in Haixinsha Asian Games Park, a legacy site from the 2010 Asian Games. The neon-lit Canton Tower that defines its skyline rose during that era, and the former sports park has evolved into a public space alive with concerts, joggers and late-night food stalls.
"Guess what - I was a volunteer back then," said Chen Hao, a taxi driver who recalls guiding athletes into the stadium. "Guangzhou has changed so much. Back then, there weren't so many foreigners, not so much tech. Now the city feels truly international."
Chen feels no pressure about the new games. "My daughter wanted to volunteer, but she's studying elsewhere. I told her: relax! Guangzhou will do just fine without you," he chuckled. "That's the confidence we've earned."
Chen's lighthearted calm reflects something quintessentially Cantonese - a composure rooted in long experience.
This is Guangzhou's third time hosting the National Games, after 1987, when China introduced its first sports mascot, and 2001, at the dawn of a new century. Also boasting a FIFA Women's World Cup in 1991 and multiple international tournaments, the city has become well-versed in hosting without hurry.
No grand new venues were built in Guangzhou for this year's games. Instead, the city repurposed existing facilities, including the Guangdong Olympic Sports Center, which has been transformed into a public fitness park.
The games feel less like a disruption than a celebration folded into daily life. Locals maintain their routines, savoring morning dim sum and catching competition highlights between cups of jasmine tea.
Only when tourists ask where to find the best food do they hesitate, torn between kindness and pride: should they recommend roast pigeon, suckling pig or beef meatballs?
HEARTFELT TIES
Not far from the diving venue, along a side street fragrant with broth and scallions, Wang Jiabao stirs a pot of rice noodles in his tiny shop. His business has boomed since the games began.
"I don't even have time to watch the events," Wang said, smiling as he ladled steaming broth into bowls. "But if I see someone with Games merchandise, I'll slip in some extra meat. Feels like my way of saying thanks."
For Wang and thousands like him, the games are not a distant spectacle. This year's edition includes mass participation events, with more than 16,000 people - from an 8-year-old model plane pilot to an 81-year-old paddler - taking part. Many events are staged in busy shopping districts, bringing crowds and commerce to local streets.
In his spare time, Wang pedals through the city, part of a cycling subculture that thrives in Guangzhou's mild climate. He is especially intrigued by the games' first road cycling race across Guangdong, Hong Kong and Macao.
"Imagine riding on the Hong Kong-Zhuhai-Macao Bridge," Wang said, eyes gleaming. "That's super wild."
"But linking the three regions for the first time?" he laughed. "I thought it had already been done. I've been to all three places, and people from Hong Kong and Macao live here like locals - it's not a surprise to me at all."
Guangzhou, a city of nearly 19 million people, has long been a shared home for residents from across the Greater Bay Area. With kindred dialects, intertwined cuisines and a similar pace of life, the city serves as a hub for growing regional integration grounded in everyday interactions.
Walking along the boulevards, you'll hear Mandarin, Cantonese, English and Portuguese blending into a gentle symphony of coexistence. You'll see families that straddle cities, businesses that cross boundaries, and people of different backgrounds finding belonging under the same warm light.
Guangzhou offers a reminder: in today's fast-moving world, harmony, like sport, is built from motion, connection and shared humanity.
