Such warmth reflects the broader policy of nuanced engagement to reflect Beijing's broadening and deepening economic and political interests.

But such images, however, do not tell the full story. In some places, efforts to engage Chinese envoys by countries large and small can be met with a marked chill.

'It is like the cold war never ended,' said one Asian diplomat based in Myanmar, frustrated after repeated attempts to engage his counterparts from Beijing. 'They deal with the regime, and that is it.'

His comments were echoed by a Western envoy long used to facing the same problem. 'If it was Singapore or Bangkok, there would be all kinds of avenues for communication ... but not Yangon. The Chinese have their own links and seem to like to stand back and let everyone scrabble around for the crumbs.'

A similar situation exists in countries like Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia and North Korea - a loose grouping of fraternal borderlands and closed, secretive leaderships. It may also reflect the importance of those ties: China's relations with Myanmar, and particularly Vietnam, remain highly sensitive and strategic, clouded by historical suspicion despite progress in recent years. And while Beijing may be the nominal head of the troubled six-nation effort to rid Pyongyang of its nuclear weapons, it shares very few insights on the regime with fellow participants and traditional rivals - South Korea, Japan and the United States. Even before the current impasse, few involved were pretending it was a healthy example of teamwork over self-interest.

The habitual frost exists in sensitive spots outside the region, too, such as Iran. 'It is almost like China knows it has a traditional advantage in secrecy in these kinds of countries and wants to maintain it for as long as it can,' said one Hanoi-based Asian diplomat. 'The shutters remain pulled down tight. Of course, it could be argued that there are clear strategic advantages to that kind of behaviour.'

While Chinese missions elsewhere may be headed by ambassadors and other senior diplomats who are generalists - and at ease with high-profile public roles, such as ambassador to Indonesia and former spokeswoman Zhang Qiyue - it tends to dispatch specialists to fraternal countries.

Handpicked early in their careers to focus on a specific, closed leadership, many don't speak English - which, for better or worse, remains the lingua franca of regional relationships on a basic level.

As they scratch their heads, some regional peers describe a diplomatic schizophrenia at work. This raises a nagging question: will China's dealings move more towards the light or retreat further into the opaque zone?

At this point, it could go either way. The past few months have revealed plenty of signs that Beijing is more comfortable with its growing clout and unafraid to increasingly assert its own interests. Keeping strategically silent in many parts of the region could be part of that.

At the same time, however, Chinese officials acknowledge the need to ease fears about China's rise around the region. Transparency will only help that process.

Greg Torode is the Post's chief Asia correspondent