Six people tell what Spring Festival means to them:
"I started blind dates the second day of Lunar New Year, and I met two or three girls every day. I like one of them, so we met again to learn more about each other. Now we are engaged."
Wang Tao, a 21-year-old from Henan province, said. He was among the young migrant workers who were busy finding a soulmate in their hometown during the holiday.
"What is Spring Festival? One word: tired. Two words: spend money. Three words: frenzy in parties. Four words: either eat or sleep. Five words: messages blowing in the wind ... 10 words: you have to resume ordinary state after the seven-day holiday."
A netizen called little fish in Xiaoyu's home in Hangzhou, Zhejiang province, wrote on Sina Weibo, China's largest micro-blog platform.
"At the dining table during the festival gatherings, I realized that my uncles, who do manual work in daily life, suddenly become politicians, military experts, economists, sociologists and senior movie critics; our aunties and moms turn into showbiz reviewers, top-notch lecturers on nutrition, screenwriters and anchors of anecdotic talk shows."
A netizen called Li Jinpeng-Mo, wrote on Sina Weibo.
"The torment of going home for Lunar New Year is learning that my friends are getting married and some classmates are about to have a second marriage while I am still single."
Mali Lingshan, a 27-year-old media worker in Beijing, said.
"The festival is getting boring because we don't have much expectation for material satisfaction; we already live an affluent life."
Cao Yan, 42, a civil servant in Nantong, Jiangsu province, said.
"Maybe you haven't noticed that it's rare in recent years for you to sit down and chat with mom and dad. At dinner or whenever, you are always browsing on your cellphone. ... We don't have many chances to see each other except during the Spring Festival holiday. I really hope you can take some time to talk with us."
A mother wrote to her son, who went home for Spring Festival, in a letter widely circulated on the Internet.