BEIJING, March 28 (Xinhua) -- On a mild spring morning in Beijing, a group of writers gathered at the National Museum of Modern Chinese Literature. They had traveled from across the country.

Some were from rural villages in the northwest and others from factory towns in the south. Some had spent years working as domestic helpers, construction workers or delivery riders.

They did not look like a traditional literary circle. But on this day, they shared a single name: writers.

The occasion, a special event hosted by the China Writers Association, brought together 35 participants representing what is increasingly described as China's "new forms of literature and art for the general public," a term that has appeared not only in cultural discussions but also in the country's policy documents, including this year's government work report.

At its simplest, the idea reflects a quiet but far-reaching change: in today's China, more people are writing and sharing their work, often drawing directly from their own lives.

For much of modern literary history, writing in China, as elsewhere, was often associated with scholars, intellectuals or those with the time and training to pursue it. But this boundary has begun to blur, shaped by the rapid spread of digital platforms and broader social changes.

Few stories capture the shift more clearly than that of Li Wenli.

Li is from Pingliang, in northwest China's Gansu Province. For years, she worked as a domestic helper in Beijing, moving between households, washing dishes and cleaning rooms. In the hours between tasks, she began to write, at first simply to record her days. Her memoir, whose title translates as "I Worked as a Housekeeper in Beijing," eventually found its way into print.

"I am just an ordinary rural woman," she said at the event. "I never imagined I could write a book."

Her story is no longer unusual.

Across the country, people from different walks of life are picking up pens, or, more often, tapping on phone screens, to document their experiences. In the central province of Henan, a shop assistant is preparing to publish a poetry collection, while in Ningxia Hui Autonomous Region in the northwest, a community worker has written essays rooted in life along the Yellow River.

These writers range in age from their late 20s to over 70, and come from widely varying educational backgrounds. Taken together, their work is expanding not only who writes, but what counts as literature.

In places long defined by hardship, writing has taken on an added resonance.

In Ningxia's Xihaigu, a region once known for its harsh natural conditions, a group of farmer-writers has emerged over the years. They tend crops by day and write at night, turning lived experience into narrative. "The crops grown from the soil sustain the body," one local writer said. "The words grown from the pen sustain the soul."

Further south, in the manufacturing city of Dongguan in Guangdong Province, another literary tradition has persisted. Known as "migrant worker literature," it began in the 1990s among factory workers documenting life on assembly lines and in dormitories. It continues to evolve today.

For some, writing has offered a way to reclaim a sense of self. "On the production line, my life once repeated like a machine," one worker-writer reflected. "Literature brought me back to life."

Such expressions, circulating online and across social media, have found readers far beyond their immediate communities.

Digital platforms have played a central role in enabling this reach. They have lowered the barriers to entry, allowing aspiring writers to publish instantly and connect with large audiences. Some works have gone on to be adapted into films, television dramas, animation and video games.

In some places, literature is also being woven into local development. In Qingxi Village in Hunan Province in central China, the hometown of renowned writer Zhou Libo, a model combining "writers' studios" with cultural tourism has taken shape, linking literary activity with rural revitalization efforts.

For institutions, the shift has prompted new efforts to engage a broader range of voices. Zhang Hongsen, chairman of the China Writers Association, emphasized that literature remains rooted in the people and in the realities of the times.

What is emerging from these new forms of literature is not a single style, but a widening field of expression.

In the words of one participant, literature has made the invisible visible. In doing so, it is returning to where it began: in the lives of ordinary people, and in the telling of their stories.