Daniel sent us this one — he's asking about Chinese cities that most Westerners have never heard of, but which by any other standard are giant metropolises. He points out that China has its famous megacities, Beijing, Shanghai, Shenzhen, but then there's this entire list of second-tier and lower cities, many of which are almost totally obscure outside China despite having populations that would make them the largest city in most European countries. So the question is basically, what are these places, how big are we talking, and why don't we know about them?
This is one of my favorite topics because the numbers are genuinely staggering once you start looking at them. Let me give you the framework first. China officially has something like six hundred ninety cities if you count everything down to the county level. But the tier system everyone actually uses comes from this publication called Yicai, which is a financial magazine based in Shanghai. They've been putting out an annual ranking since about twenty seventeen that classifies cities into tiers based on commercial attractiveness, not just population.
It's not a government classification.
It's entirely a business and media construct, but it's become so influential that developers, retailers, and even young people choosing where to work all use these tiers as shorthand. The top tier, tier one, is the four cities everyone knows — Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, and Shenzhen. Those are the so-called first-tier cities. Then Yicai created this category they call new first-tier cities, which as of the twenty twenty-four ranking included fifteen cities.
That's already more than most people could name.
Right, and those fifteen include places like Chengdu, which topped the new first-tier list for several years running, Hangzhou, Chongqing, Wuhan, Nanjing, Xi'an, Changsha, Tianjin, Zhengzhou, Dongguan, Qingdao, Kunming, Hefei, Foshan, and Suzhou. Some of those are famous-ish — Hangzhou because of Alibaba, Chengdu because of pandas and the food scene. But then you hit the second-tier cities, and that's thirty more cities. And this is where you start finding places with eight, nine, ten million people that the average Westerner has absolutely zero reference for.
Give me the most extreme example. The one that should be famous and just isn't.
Linyi is in Shandong province. Population, depending on whether you count the urban core or the whole prefecture-level administrative area, somewhere between eleven and twelve million people. That's larger than London. Larger than Chicago. Larger than Paris by a lot. And I would bet that fewer than one in a hundred Westerners could place it on a map or tell you a single thing about it.
What even is Linyi?
It's the largest logistics and wholesale distribution hub in all of China. If you've ever ordered something cheap online that shipped from China, there's a reasonable chance it passed through Linyi. The city has this absolutely enormous wholesale market complex — I think it's something like sixty thousand individual stalls spread across multiple trading centers. They move everything from hardware to toys to furniture to construction materials. It's also the largest timber processing center in the country.
It's the warehouse of warehouses.
It's the warehouse of warehouses. And yet, culturally invisible outside China. And that pattern repeats over and over. Wenzhou has about nine million people. It's in Zhejiang province, south of Shanghai. Wenzhou is famous within China for producing entrepreneurs — something like two and a half million Wenzhou natives live and do business abroad, and they've basically created this global diaspora of family-run manufacturing and trading businesses. The city itself is where something like sixty percent of the world's cigarette lighters used to be made, and a huge chunk of the world's eyeglass frames and shoes. For decades, Wenzhou was the poster child for China's private sector boom.
Yet if you say Wenzhou to someone in London or New York, you get a blank stare.
And that's a city that would be the second-largest metropolitan area in all of Europe, behind only Moscow, if it were transplanted there. Let me give you another one. Foshan is in Guangdong province, right next to Guangzhou. It's got about nine and a half million people. It produces something like a fifth of the world's ceramic tiles. It's a massive manufacturing center for furniture, electronics, and home appliances. The Midea Group, which is one of the largest appliance manufacturers on the planet, is headquartered there. And Foshan is technically classified as a new first-tier city now, so it's not even the most obscure category, and yet I'd wager most people listening have never heard of it.
I've heard of it, but only because I'm deeply weird.
You're deeply weird and you live with someone who works in AI and tech comms. That's cheating.
So what's driving this obscurity? Is it just that these cities don't produce cultural exports the way Beijing and Shanghai do?
That's a big part of it. The cities that break through into global consciousness tend to do it through one of a few channels. Political capital, so Beijing. Financial capital, so Shanghai and increasingly Shenzhen. Cultural production — film, music, art, fashion. Or major international events. Chengdu got a boost from the giant panda research base and Sichuan cuisine going global. Hangzhou got the twenty sixteen G twenty summit. But most of these second and third-tier cities, their economies are built on manufacturing, logistics, and domestic consumption. They're not trying to project soft power. They're making stuff.
It's the difference between being a factory and being a brand.
Linyi doesn't need you to know its name. It needs container trucks to arrive on time. And the scale of some of these manufacturing clusters is hard to overstate. There's a city called Xuchang in Henan province. About four and a half million people. Xuchang produces something like a third of the world's wigs and hair extensions. Most of the raw hair comes from India, gets processed and styled in Xuchang, and then gets shipped to beauty supply stores in the United States, Europe, and Africa. It's a multi-billion dollar industry centered on a city that, again, virtually nobody in the West has heard of.
A third of the world's wigs. That's the kind of statistic that sounds made up until you look it up.
It's not made up. There's another one — Yiwu. Yiwu is in Zhejiang, about three million people in the urban area, much smaller than some of these others, but it's arguably the most important small city on the planet for global trade. The Yiwu International Trade City is the largest wholesale market in the world by physical size. It's something like four million square meters of floor space across five districts. If you spent three minutes at every stall, it would take you over a year to see the whole thing. And Yiwu is where the world's Christmas decorations come from. Something like sixty percent of all Christmas decorations sold globally originate in or around Yiwu.
Yiwu is the reason Santa exists, economically speaking.
Yiwu is the North Pole's supply chain. And what's wild is that Yiwu has a direct freight rail connection to Madrid. The Yixin'ou Railway, part of the Belt and Road Initiative, runs more than thirteen thousand kilometers from Yiwu to Spain. It takes about three weeks, which is faster than sea freight and cheaper than air. So you have this smallish Chinese city that nobody's heard of, running container trains across Kazakhstan, Russia, Belarus, Poland, Germany, France, and into Spain. It's a logistical marvel that starts in a place most people couldn't find with a map.
That's the thing, right? The Belt and Road has physically connected these obscure cities to the global economy in ways that are invisible to most Western consumers. The goods arrive, but the origin story doesn't.
And let me pull on another thread here, because the city tier system itself tells an interesting story about how China thinks about urban development. When Yicai ranks cities, they're not just looking at population. They're looking at commercial resource concentration, urban connectivity, lifestyle diversity, and what they call future malleability, which is basically growth potential. So a city like Kunming, which is the capital of Yunnan province down near the border with Vietnam and Laos, ranks as a new first-tier city despite having only about eight and a half million people in the metro area, because it's strategically positioned as the gateway to Southeast Asia.
It's got that temperate climate that everyone in China talks about.
Right, Kunming is called the City of Eternal Spring. It sits at about nineteen hundred meters elevation, so even in summer it rarely gets above twenty-five Celsius. It's become a major destination for Chinese domestic tourism and for tech companies building data centers, because the climate means lower cooling costs. Microsoft has a big presence there. And Kunming is connected to Laos now by a high-speed rail line that opened in twenty twenty-one, part of the broader pan-Asia railway network that China's been building.
It's a back-end infrastructure hub masquerading as a tourist town.
That's a perfect description. And this pattern shows up everywhere once you start looking. The city of Hefei, which is the capital of Anhui province, was basically a backwater twenty years ago. Now it's got about nine and a half million people in the metro area, and it's become one of China's most important centers for advanced manufacturing. BOE Technology, which is one of the world's largest display panel makers, has massive production facilities there. NIO, the electric vehicle company, has its main manufacturing base in Hefei. The city's GDP grew by something like seven and a half percent in twenty twenty-four, which is extraordinary for a place that size.
I'm guessing most Westerners couldn't tell you what province Hefei is in.
Most Westerners couldn't tell you Hefei exists. And here's the thing — Hefei has more people than Austria. Xuzhou, another city in Jiangsu province, has about nine million people. It's a major railway junction and industrial center. It has a history going back over two thousand years. It was a key battleground during the Chinese Civil War in the late nineteen forties. And it's completely off the mental map for almost everyone outside China.
Let's do a thought experiment. If you were going to build a tour of these invisible megacities for someone who wants to understand modern China, where would you send them and in what order?
I'd start in Zhengzhou. Zhengzhou is the capital of Henan province, about twelve million people in the metro area. It's sometimes called the iPhone City because Foxconn has its largest iPhone assembly plant there — something like three hundred thousand workers on a single campus. But Zhengzhou is also fascinating because it's basically a city that was chosen by central planners to become a logistics hub. It sits at the intersection of China's main north-south and east-west rail lines. The government poured billions into turning it into an inland port. It's got a massive airport cargo hub. It's one of the best places to see what happens when the state decides a city is going to be important.
Zhengzhou is the planned megacity.
Then I'd go to Dongguan. Dongguan is between Guangzhou and Shenzhen in the Pearl River Delta. It's got about ten and a half million people. For decades it was known as the factory of the world, specifically for electronics. If you owned a smartphone, a laptop, a gaming console in the two thousands or twenty tens, parts of it almost certainly passed through Dongguan. But what's interesting now is that Dongguan has been trying to move up the value chain. It's got a big robotics industry. It's investing heavily in advanced manufacturing. In twenty twenty-four, the city's GDP hit something like one point two trillion yuan. That's roughly a hundred seventy billion dollars. That's more than the entire economy of Hungary.
It's not even a first-tier city.
It's not even a first-tier city. And it sits in the shadow of Shenzhen, which is literally right next door and gets all the attention. Dongguan is the bass player in a band where Shenzhen is the lead guitarist.
Now you're speaking my language.
Then I'd go to a city like Guiyang. Guiyang is the capital of Guizhou province, which is one of China's poorest provinces historically. It's got about six million people. And Guiyang has become this unlikely tech hub, specifically for data centers. Apple has a massive data center there. Tencent, Alibaba, Huawei — they all have facilities in Guizhou. The province has cheap electricity, a cool climate, and the government has been aggressively courting tech investment. Guiyang also hosts something called the China International Big Data Expo every year. So you have this city that was basically rural poverty a generation ago, and now it's the server room of China.
The server room of China. That's a good line.
Then for the fourth stop, I'd pick a wild card — a city like Nanning. Nanning is the capital of Guangxi province, near the Vietnam border. It's got about eight million people. And it's interesting because it's the closest major Chinese city to Southeast Asia, which means it's become a hub for trade with ASEAN countries. It hosts the China-ASEAN Expo every year. The city has been transformed over the past decade by infrastructure investment aimed at making it the gateway to Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, Thailand. There's a high-speed rail link to the border. It's a city that's betting its future on economic integration with Southeast Asia.
You've got Zhengzhou as the planned hub, Dongguan as the factory, Guiyang as the server room, and Nanning as the gateway. That's a pretty compelling itinerary.
None of these cities would be on a standard tourist's radar. You'd learn more about how modern China actually works by visiting those four than you would by spending a month in Shanghai. And I haven't even mentioned cities like Shijiazhuang, which has eleven million people and is the capital of Hebei province. It's an industrial city known for pharmaceuticals and textiles. It's an hour and a half from Beijing by high-speed rail. It's the kind of place where the air used to be famously terrible — it was regularly in the top ten most polluted cities in China — but it's cleaned up significantly in recent years.
How do you even pronounce that?
It's actually Shijiazhuang, I think I said that wrong. The point is, it's huge, it's important, and it's invisible. There's also Tangshan, which has about seven and a half million people and is famous within China for one terrible reason — the nineteen seventy-six Tangshan earthquake, which killed something like a quarter of a million people, one of the deadliest earthquakes in recorded history. The city was completely rebuilt and is now a major steel production center. It produces something like ten percent of China's steel.
The ghost of the earthquake hangs over it, but the economy is just steel, steel, steel.
Steel, steel, steel, and rebuilding. And here's another layer to this. A lot of these cities are growing not just because of manufacturing but because of internal migration patterns. China has this massive population that's been moving from rural areas to cities for decades. The first-tier cities have become incredibly expensive — Beijing and Shanghai have housing costs that rival San Francisco and London. So a lot of younger Chinese professionals are choosing to move to new first-tier and second-tier cities where they can actually afford to buy an apartment and have a reasonable quality of life.
The tier-two cities are benefiting from tier-one's success making tier-one unlivable.
That's exactly the dynamic. Chengdu and Hangzhou have been the biggest beneficiaries, but it's also happening in cities like Changsha, the capital of Hunan province. Changsha has about ten million people. It's got a vibrant nightlife and food scene. It's the hometown of Hunan TV, which is one of the most-watched provincial satellite channels in China. The cost of living is dramatically lower than in Shanghai. A lot of young Chinese graduates are looking at Changsha and thinking, I can actually have a life here.
Changsha is also where a lot of China's construction machinery industry is based, right?
SANY and Zoomlion, two of the world's largest construction equipment manufacturers, are both headquartered in Changsha. They make excavators, cranes, concrete pumps. If you see a skyscraper going up anywhere in the developing world, there's a decent chance the equipment came from Changsha. And again, virtually nobody in the West knows this.
Let's talk about the third-tier and below, because I feel like that's where things get really interesting in terms of sheer obscurity.
The third tier is where you find cities that have somewhere between three and seven million people, still enormous by any global standard, but they're provincial players rather than national ones. Yicai classified about seventy cities as third-tier in their most recent ranking. And below that you have fourth-tier, which is another ninety cities, and fifth-tier, about a hundred twenty-eight. These are places with populations in the one to three million range. Still large enough to be significant cities in most countries. In China, they're basically afterthoughts in the national conversation.
Give me a third-tier city that you find particularly interesting.
I'll give you two. First, Weifang in Shandong province. About nine million people in the prefecture. Weifang is the kite capital of the world. It hosts an international kite festival every year that draws competitors from dozens of countries. But more importantly for the global economy, Weifang is a major producer of diesel engines and agricultural machinery. Weichai Power, which is one of the world's largest diesel engine manufacturers, is based there. So Weifang is simultaneously a whimsical kite-flying destination and a heavy industrial powerhouse.
Kites and diesel engines. That's a combination.
It's a combination. The second one is Quanzhou in Fujian province. Quanzhou has about eight and a half million people, and it's historically one of the most important port cities in the world. During the Song and Yuan dynasties — so roughly the tenth through fourteenth centuries — Quanzhou was the starting point of the Maritime Silk Road. Marco Polo visited and described it as one of the busiest ports on earth. It had communities of Arab, Persian, Indian, and Southeast Asian traders. There are still mosques and Hindu temples in Quanzhou from that period. And today it's a major manufacturing center for footwear and apparel. Companies like Anta Sports, which is one of China's biggest sportswear brands, are based there.
It went from medieval global trading hub to modern sneaker factory.
That's the arc of Quanzhou. And it's a third-tier city by the current classification. The historical significance alone should make it famous, but it's completely overshadowed by Xiamen, which is the better-known coastal city in Fujian.
Xiamen gets the tourists, Quanzhou gets the sneaker contracts.
That's the division of labor. And I should mention that the tier system isn't static. Cities move up and down. Yicai updates the list every year. Kunming dropped out of the new first-tier list at one point and then came back. Wuxi, which is a wealthy city in Jiangsu near Shanghai, has bounced between tiers. The whole system is a snapshot of commercial momentum.
It's like a league table for cities.
It's exactly a league table for cities. And it creates these fascinating dynamics where city governments are actively competing to move up. They invest in infrastructure, they court specific industries, they try to build cultural amenities that will attract young talent. There's a whole urban policy ecosystem built around tier promotion.
Which probably creates some pretty weird incentives.
You get cities building massive new districts that sit empty because they're betting on population growth that may or may not materialize. China has this phenomenon of ghost cities, which are basically entire urban developments built on speculation. Some of them eventually fill up, some don't. The most famous example is Ordos in Inner Mongolia, which was built for a million people and had about thirty thousand when it was first developed. It's filled in somewhat since then, but it's still a cautionary tale.
That's the one that was basically a monument to coal money, right?
Ordos sits on enormous coal reserves. During the commodity boom of the two thousands, it was one of the wealthiest cities per capita in China. The local government poured money into building this new district called Kangbashi, with wide boulevards, museums, a sports stadium, residential towers — and almost nobody moved in for years. It became the iconic ghost city. And again, most Westerners have never heard of it, but it's a fascinating case study in the limits of top-down urban planning.
Ordos is what tier?
It's usually classified as a fourth-tier city. Population of about two million in the whole prefecture, but spread across a huge area. The urban core is much smaller.
You've got cities that are huge and economically significant, and then you've got cities that are Potemkin villages built on commodity speculation. And from outside China, they all blur together into one undifferentiated mass of "places I've never heard of.
That's exactly the problem. And it matters because these cities collectively are where a huge portion of global manufacturing actually happens. If you're in the business of making anything physical, you need to know about Dongguan, Foshan, Wenzhou, Yiwu, Linyi. These aren't optional knowledge. They're the nodes in the global supply chain.
Yet the coverage of China in Western media is overwhelmingly focused on Beijing politics and Shanghai finance.
With occasional detours to Shenzhen for tech stories. That's it. The other six hundred plus cities might as well not exist. And this creates a genuine information asymmetry. Chinese businesses and city governments understand Western markets in detail. They know which cities in the US and Europe matter for their industries. The reverse is not true.
What's a city that you think is going to break through in the next five to ten years? Which of these invisible megacities is going to become visible?
I think Hefei has a strong case. It's been on an absolute tear in terms of investment in quantum computing and advanced manufacturing. The University of Science and Technology of China is based there, and it's basically China's MIT. Hefei is positioning itself as a science and innovation hub, and it's getting results. I also think Changsha could break through on the cultural front. The entertainment industry there is innovative in ways that could start to attract international attention.
What about Chengdu? It's already somewhat visible, but I feel like it's still underrated.
Chengdu is arguably the most underrated major city on the planet. It's got about sixteen million people in the metro area. It's the capital of Sichuan province, which means it's the home of Sichuan cuisine, which is arguably China's most exportable culinary tradition. It's got a massive tech sector — Chengdu's Tianfu Software Park has hundreds of companies including major offices for IBM, Dell, Siemens, and a ton of game developers. It's a major aerospace manufacturing center. It's got a huge music and nightlife scene. It's the panda capital of the world. And it's the anchor city for China's entire western development strategy. If you had to pick one Chinese city to watch over the next decade, Chengdu would be a very strong candidate.
It's not a first-tier city by the official classification.
It's a new first-tier city. It tops the new first-tier list almost every year. But it's not in the club with Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, and Shenzhen. It's the city that's always knocking on the door.
Which feels about right for a place that's the panda capital and the spicy food capital and the aerospace capital all at once. It's doing too many things to be easily categorized.
I think that's actually true of a lot of these cities. They're complex, multidimensional places that don't fit into a neat narrative. The Western media tends to cover China through a handful of lenses — authoritarian politics, economic competition, human rights. Those are important, but they completely miss the texture of what's actually happening in these cities. You've got a place like Luoyang, which has about seven million people and was the capital of thirteen different Chinese dynasties. It's got the Longmen Grottoes, which are a UNESCO World Heritage site with thousands of Buddhist cave statues dating back to the fifth century. And it's also a modern industrial city that produces tractors and construction machinery. That combination of ancient and modern is everywhere in China, and it's almost never captured in Western coverage.
That's another one I couldn't have placed on a map before this conversation.
Luoyang has more people than the entire country of Paraguay. That's the scale we're talking about.
If someone's listening to this and they want to actually understand these places, what's the best approach? Because you can't visit six hundred cities.
I think you pick a few archetypes and go deep. Visit a manufacturing hub like Dongguan or Foshan. Visit a western development city like Chengdu or Chongqing. Visit a historic inland capital like Xi'an or Luoyang or Kaifeng. Visit a border gateway like Nanning or Kunming. And then visit one of the truly obscure industrial cities like Linyi or Yiwu, just to see what a global supply chain node actually looks and feels like. You'd come away with a much richer picture than you'd get from reading a hundred news articles about Chinese politics.
The food would be incredible.
The food would be incredible. Every single one of these cities has its own local cuisine that you've probably never heard of. Luoyang has something called water banquet, which is a series of soups served in sequence. Linyi has a famous pancake dish called jianbing that's completely different from the Beijing version. The culinary diversity is as vast as the geographic diversity.
The invisible cities are also invisible cuisines.
And that's a metaphor for the whole thing, really. There's this entire civilization happening in these cities — food, art, music, business, family life, history — and it's almost entirely invisible to the outside world. Not because it's hidden, but because nobody's looking.
The numbers keep getting bigger. I mean, China's urban population is still growing, right?
It is, though the rate has slowed. China's urbanization rate crossed sixty-six percent in twenty twenty-four. That means about nine hundred thirty million people living in cities. The government's target is something like seventy-five percent by twenty thirty-five. That's another hundred million plus people moving into cities over the next decade. A lot of them will go to these second and third-tier cities because the big ones are saturated and too expensive.
The obscure cities are going to get even bigger.
They're going to get bigger, and some of them are going to become much more important economically. The Chinese government has been pushing this strategy of city clusters — basically groups of cities that are economically integrated and connected by high-speed rail. The Yangtze River Delta cluster around Shanghai, the Pearl River Delta around Guangzhou and Shenzhen, and the Beijing-Tianjin-Hebei cluster in the north. But they're also developing interior clusters around Chengdu and Chongqing, around Wuhan, around Zhengzhou. These interior clusters are going to be the growth story for the next twenty years.
That's where the truly obscure cities live.
That's where they live. And here's a concrete example. The Chengdu-Chongqing economic circle covers about a hundred eighty thousand square kilometers and has a combined population of around a hundred million people. That's roughly the population of Egypt. And within that circle, there are dozens of cities that most Westerners have never heard of — Deyang, Mianyang, Yibin, Luzhou, Nanchong. These are cities with millions of people each, and they're part of an integrated economic zone that's growing faster than almost anywhere else on earth.
I have never heard that name before.
Deyang has about three and a half million people. It's known for heavy equipment manufacturing — turbines, generators, that kind of thing. It's a major supplier to China's power grid. It's also got a famous distilling industry — Jiannanchun baijiu is made there, which is one of China's most famous liquor brands. And it's basically a satellite city of Chengdu now, connected by high-speed rail in about twenty minutes. So you have this city that's an industrial powerhouse, a cultural landmark, and an economic satellite all at once. And outside of China, it's a complete unknown.
The baijiu angle alone should make it famous. That stuff is potent.
Baijiu is the most consumed spirit on earth by volume, and almost nobody in the West drinks it or knows anything about it. That's another whole invisible economy.
To pull this together — the prompt was essentially, what are these cities, and why don't we know about them. The cities are manufacturing hubs, logistics nodes, provincial capitals, and historic centers that happen to have eight or ten or twelve million people. And we don't know about them because they don't produce cultural exports, they're not financial or political capitals, and Western media coverage of China is pathologically focused on a tiny handful of cities and political stories.
That's a good summary. I'd add one more thing. We don't know about them because we don't need to know about them, in a very specific sense. The global economy is structured so that the value created in these cities flows through intermediaries. You buy a product, it says made in China, and you never think about which city it came from. The supply chain is deliberately opaque to the end consumer. Linyi doesn't brand itself to you. It brands itself to the logistics managers and wholesale buyers who actually make purchasing decisions. So the obscurity is partly a function of how global trade works.
The obscurity is a feature, not a bug.
For them, yes. They don't need brand recognition. They need container throughput.
Which brings us back to the beginning. The invisible megacities are invisible because their job is to be infrastructure, not identity.
They're the stagehands of the global economy. You don't notice them until something goes wrong.
When something does go wrong — a port closure, a factory shutdown, a logistics bottleneck — suddenly everyone's trying to pronounce Zhengzhou.
And now: Hilbert's daily fun fact.
Hilbert: The optical properties of a crown determine its legitimacy. In eighteen fourteen, the Funafuti atoll succession crisis on the island chain now known as Tuvalu was resolved when the disputed chief's heir demonstrated his right to rule by correctly identifying which lagoon reflected the true color of his ancestor's ceremonial headdress — a shade of blue that could only be seen from a specific coral outcrop at low tide. The challenger saw green. He was exiled to a neighboring atoll.
...right.
Here's the thing I keep coming back to. There are cities in China right now with more people than New York, more economic output than entire European countries, and histories stretching back millennia. And they're invisible. Not hidden, just not looked at. The next time you pick up something that says made in China, take thirty seconds to look up which city it actually came from. You might discover a metropolis you never knew existed.
If you want a reading recommendation, the Yicai city tier rankings are published annually and available in English. It's a fascinating window into how China sees its own urban geography. Worth spending an afternoon with.
This has been My Weird Prompts. Thanks to our producer, Hilbert Flumingtop. You can find every episode at myweirdprompts.
If you enjoyed this, leave us a review wherever you get your podcasts. It helps people find the show.
I'm Corn.
I'm Herman Poppleberry.
We'll be back.
