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How Baidu Maps Leads People to a Privately Owned Hospital

Weibo netizens have exposed how Baidu Maps, when looking for a city hospital in Shenzhen, instead provides the address of a private hospital run by the controversial Putian Medical Group. The trending issue has angered Chinese netizens. The close-knit and dubious connection between Baidu and Putian earlier made headlines in 2016.

Manya Koetse

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A doctor on Weibo has exposed how Baidu Maps, when looking for a city hospital in Shenzhen, instead provides the address of a private hospital run by the controversial Putian Medical Group. The trending issue has angered Chinese netizens. The close-knit and dubious connection between Baidu and Putian earlier made headlines in 2016.

In 2016, Chinese search engine Baidu triggered a wave of controversy after netizens exposed how the company offers advertised space for fraudulent doctors. Medical institutions reportedly paid Baidu large amounts of money to be prominently featured in their search results – often giving false hope to patients who hope to be cured.

Now, a year later, the search engine again angers Chinese netizens for linking to the address of a private clinic when people search for a Shenzhen city hospital. The issue was exposed by a surgeon working at the Shenzhen City Children’s Hospital on Weibo, attracting thousands of comments and shares within days.

Many netizens say that they are done with Baidu, as the company has ‘no integrity.’

 

The Wei Zexi Incident

 

The big 2016 Baidu controversy came to light in early May after the death of the cancer patient Wei Zexi (魏则西). Wei was a 21-year old student suffering a rare form of cancer. After several unsuccessful treatments, he turned to search engine Baidu.

Through one of Baidu’s paid results, Wei found a treatment at the Beijing Armed Police Corps No. 2 Hospital (武警二院) he thought could help him. With the help of friends and family, he came up with the 200,000 RMB (31,000US$) for the treatment, which later turned out to be ineffective and highly contested. Wei made headlines when he passed away shortly after.

Since he was an active user on a well-known message board where he shared his experiences, the topic of his death became a much-discussed on Chinese social media.

The death of the young Wei Zexi triggered controversy in 2016.

Further investigation exposed that the controversial treatment was done by the Putian Medical Group (莆田系医院), an organized group of medical entrepreneurs that dominates most of China’s private hospitals. It led to a stream of online responses from people who say they were also duped by the Putian Medical Group. Many recounted how their appointment at a Putian-related clinic had cost them a lot of money even when the public hospital doctor later diagnosed they had no health problems at all.

Amongst the many messages were also those of people who previously worked at Putian hospitals. Some told that the expert doctors that were advertised in reality did not even work at the clinics and that the staff was not qualified to do the abortion procedures they offered.

 

The Putian Medical Group

 

Putian’s monopoly in China’s private healthcare system goes back to the 1980s when the city of Putian grew into a town of ‘medical practitioners’ without official medical university degrees. The people of Putian discovered a medical goldmine by treating stigmatized conditions (such as STD’s) that were rarely treated at public hospitals.

Throughout the 1990s, the medical network of Putian was opening up clinics across China. These hospitals were amongst the first to advertise their treatments. They also signed contracts with public hospitals to run specific departments.

Baidu and Putian: money for misleading advertisement on the search engine.

Putian and Baidu have had a close-knit relationship for years. Baidu has made a fortune through Putian’s advertisements, and Putian has also further expanded its business by being featured on the search engine.

 

“Led to a privately owned hospital by Baidu”

 

Baidu has now become trending again for its dubious practices, as netizens have uncovered how Baidu Maps directs users to a Putian-owned clinic when searching for a nearby children’s hospital.

On July 10, the hashtag “Led to a privately-owned hospital by Baidu” (#被百度地图带到民营医院#) was in the top 10 of most-read topics on Sina Weibo.

Baidu Maps redirects patients to the wrong hospital in Shenzhen.

The issue came to light when a medical staff member of the Shenzhen City Children’s Hospital (深圳市儿童医) discovered that Baidu maps indicated their work unit had “moved.” When searching for the hospital, Baidu provided the address of the Putian Far East Women’s Hospital (远东妇儿医院). This leads many patients to visit the Putian hospital, thinking they are actually visiting the Shenzhen City Children’s Hospital.

The information was disclosed by a surgeon of the Shenzhen Hospital (@深圳胖胖熊) on July 7 on Weibo, where his post soon received thousands of shares.

The doctor writes:

“The Shenzhen Children’s Hospital address was originally 709 Yitian Road, Futian District. Unfortunately, in the Baidu map search results, the link underneath this name redirects to the address of the Putian Far East Women’s Hospital, and its name is underneath on the second place. This leads many parents who want to come to our hospital to go to the Putian Department. Is this negligence, or deliberate? What is the purpose? Could I say that this is shameless?”

On July 10, Baidu responded to the controversy through Weibo, calling the search results an “error” that was immediately being adjusted by the relevant departments.

 

“A dog can’t stop himself from eating shit”

 

But many people on Weibo do not believe that the misleading information is a simple error, with some saying that this is not the first time this has happened. Others also point out that this is “too much of a coincidence,” since the ‘error’ is linked to a Putian clinic.

Many people say that Baidu has already lost its integrity: “Bad habits are hard to change,” some people write (literally: “a dog can’t stop himself from eating shit” [“狗改不了吃屎”]).

“I don’t believe you anymore, your credibility records have become too low,” some commenters said.

The alleged unethical practices of Baidu lead many people to use the Alibaba-backed Gaode Maps (高德地图) instead of Baidu.

“I’d never expect for this to get so big,” the surgeon from Shenzhen City Children’s Hospital said on Weibo in response to all the attention his initial post has received: “I am just protecting the patients’ rights, and I feel responsible for protecting the reputation of my hospital.”

Another commenter, a medical professor from Chengdu, said on Weibo: “The internet has brought us much convenience, but we need to remain clear-headed and critical when using it – this holds especially true for Baidu search engine, Baike [Baidu online encyclopedia], and Baidu Maps.”

By Manya Koetse

©2017 Whatsonweibo. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce our content without permission – you can contact us at info@whatsonweibo.com.

Manya Koetse is the founder and editor-in-chief of whatsonweibo.com. She is a writer, public speaker, and researcher (Sinologist, MPhil) on social trends, digital developments, and new media in an ever-changing China, with a focus on Chinese society, pop culture, and gender issues. She shares her love for hotpot on hotpotambassador.com. Contact at manya@whatsonweibo.com, or follow on Twitter.

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2 Comments

2 Comments

  1. Avatar

    paquirrin

    July 11, 2017 at 7:59 pm

    and now the government wants to block vpns so that we all need to use Baidu Maps and go to Putian clinics

    • Avatar

      bailsafe

      July 17, 2017 at 11:44 pm

      That’s ridiculous. Do you have some aversion to QQ Map or Amap (listed in the article)? Or hell, even Bing Maps?

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China Arts & Entertainment

Going All In on Short Streaming: About China’s Online ‘Micro Drama’ Craze

For viewers, they’re the ultimate guilty pleasure. For producers, micro dramas mean big profit.

Ruixin Zhang

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PREMIUM CONTENT

Closely intertwined with the Chinese social media landscape and the fast-paced online entertainment scene, micro dramas have emerged as an immensely popular way to enjoy dramas in bite-sized portions. With their short-format style, these dramas have become big business, leading Chinese production studios to compete and rush to create the next ‘mini’ hit.

In February of this year, Chinese social media started flooding with various hashtags highlighting the huge commercial success of ‘online micro-short dramas’ (wǎngluò wēiduǎnjù 网络微短剧), also referred to as ‘micro drama’ or ‘short dramas’ (微短剧).

Stories ranged from “Micro drama screenwriters making over 100k yuan [$13.8k] monthly” to “Hengdian building earning 2.8 million yuan [$387.8k] rent from micro dramas within six months” and “Couple earns over 400 million [$55 million] in a month by making short dramas,” all reinforcing the same message: micro dramas mean big profits. (Respectively #短剧爆款编剧月入可超10万元#, #横店一栋楼半年靠短剧租金收入280万元#, #一对夫妇做短剧每月进账4亿多#.)

Micro dramas, taking China by storm and also gaining traction overseas, are basically super short streaming series, with each episode usually lasting no more than two minutes.

 
From Horizontal to Vertical
 

Online short dramas are closely tied to Chinese social media and have been around for about a decade, initially appearing on platforms like Youku and Tudou. However, the genre didn’t explode in popularity until 2020.

That year, China’s State Administration of Radio, Film, and Television (SARFT) introduced a “fast registration and filing module for online micro dramas” to their “Key Online Film and Television Drama Information Filing System.” Online dramas or films can only be broadcast after obtaining an “online filing number.”

Chinese streaming giants such as iQiyi, Tencent, and Youku then began releasing 10-15 minute horizontal short dramas in late 2020. Despite their shorter length and faster pace, they actually weren’t much different from regular TV dramas.

Soon after, short video social platforms like Douyin (TikTok) and Kuaishou joined the trend, launching their own short dramas with episodes only lasting around 3 minutes each.

Of course, Douyin wouldn’t miss out on this trend and actively contributed to boosting the genre. To better suit its interface, Douyin converted horizontal-screen dramas into vertical ones (竖屏短剧).

Then, in 2021, the so-called mini-program (小程序) short dramas emerged, condensing each episode to 1-2 minutes, often spanning over 100 episodes.

These short dramas are advertised on platforms like Douyin, and when users click, they are directed to mini-programs where they need to pay for further viewing. Besides direct payment revenue, micro dramas may also bring in revenue from advertising.

 
‘Losers’ Striking Back
 

You might wonder what could possibly unfold in a TV drama lasting just two minutes per episode.

The Chinese cultural media outlet ‘Hedgehog Society’ (刺猬公社) collected data from nearly 6,000 short dramas and generated a word cloud based on their content keywords.

In works targeted at female audiences, the most common words revolve around (romantic) relationships, such as “madam” (夫人) and “CEO” (总裁). Unlike Chinese internet novels from over a decade ago, which often depicted perfect love and luxurious lifestyles, these short dramas offer a different perspective on married life and self-discovery.

According to Hedgehog Society’s data, the frequency of the term “divorce” (离婚) in short dramas is ten times higher than “married” (结婚) or “newlyweds” (新婚). Many of these dramas focus on how the female protagonist builds a better life after divorce and successfully stands up to her ex-husband or to those who once underestimated her — both physically and emotionally.

One of the wordclouds by 刺猬公社.

In male-oriented short dramas, the pursuit of power is a common theme, with phrases like “the strongest in history” (史上最强) and “war god” (战神) frequently mentioned. Another surprising theme is “matrilocal son” (赘婿), the son-in-law who lives with his wife’s family. In China, this term is derogatory, particularly referring to husbands with lower economic income and social status than their wives, which is considered embarrassing in traditional Chinese views. However, in these short dramas, the matrilocal son will employ various methods to earn the respect of his wife’s family and achieve significant success.

Although storylines differ, a recurring theme in these short dramas is protagonists wanting to turn their lives around. This desire for transformation is portrayed from various perspectives, whether it’s from the viewpoint of a wealthy, elite individual or from those with lower social status, such as divorced single women or matrilocal son-in-laws. This “feel-good” sentiment appears to resonate with many Chinese viewers.

Cultural influencer Lu Xuyu (@卢旭宁) quoted from a forum on short dramas, explaining the types of short dramas that are popular: Men seek success and admiration, and want to be pursued by beautiful women. Women seek romantic love or are still hoping the men around them finally wake up. One netizen commented more bluntly: “They are all about the counterattack of the losers (屌丝逆袭).”

The word used here is “diaosi,” a term used by Chinese netizens for many years to describe themselves as losers in a self-deprecating way to cope with the hardships of a competitive life, in which it has become increasingly difficult for Chinese youths to climb the social ladder.

 
Addicted to Micro Drama
 

By early 2024, the viewership of China’s micro dramas had soared to 120 million monthly active users, with the genre particularly resonating with lower-income individuals and the elderly in lower-tier markets.

However, short dramas also enjoy widespread popularity among many young people. According to data cited by Bilibili creator Caoxiaoling (@曹小灵比比叨), 64.9% of the audience falls within the 15-29 age group.

For these young viewers, short dramas offer rapid plot twists, meme-worthy dialogues, condensing the content of several episodes of a long drama into just one minute—stripping away everything except the pure “feel-good” sentiment, which seems rare in the contemporary online media environment. Micro dramas have become the ultimate ‘guilty pleasure.’

Various micro dramas, image by Sicomedia.

Even the renowned Chinese actress Ning Jing (@宁静) admitted to being hooked on short dramas. She confessed that while initially feeling “scammed” by the poor production and acting, she became increasingly addicted as she continued watching.

It’s easy to get hooked. Despite criticisms of low quality or shallowness, micro dramas are easy to digest, featuring clear storylines and characters. They don’t demand night-long binge sessions or investment in complex storylines. Instead, people can quickly watch multiple episodes while waiting for their bus or during a short break, satisfying their daily drama fix without investing too much time.

 
Chasing the gold rush
 

During the recent Spring Festival holiday, the Chinese box office didn’t witness significant growth compared to previous years. In the meantime, the micro drama “I Went Back to the 80s and Became a Stepmother” (我在八零年代当后妈), shot in just 10 days with a post-production cost of 80,000 yuan ($11,000), achieved a single-day revenue exceeding 2 million yuan ($277k). It’s about a college girl who time-travels back to the 1980s, reluctantly getting married to a divorced pig farm owner with kids, but unexpectedly falling in love.

Despite its simple production and clichéd plot, micro dramas like this are drawing in millions of viewers. The producer earned over 100 million yuan ($13 million) from this drama and another short one.

“I Went Back to the 80s and Became a Stepmother” (我在八零年代当后妈).

The popularity of short dramas, along with these significant profits, has attracted many people to join the short drama industry. According to some industry insiders, a short drama production team often involves hundreds or even thousands of contributors who help in writing scripts. These contributors include college students, unemployed individuals, and online writers — seemingly anyone can participate.

By now, Hengdian World Studios, the largest film and television shooting base in China, is already packed with crews filming short dramas. With many production teams facing a shortage of extras, reports have surfaced indicating significant increases in salaries, with retired civil workers even being enlisted as actors.

Despite the overwhelming success of some short dramas like “I Went Back to the 80s and Became a Stepmother,” it is not easy to replicate their formula. The screenwriter of the time-travel drama, Mi Meng (@咪蒙的微故事), is a renowned online writer who is very familiar with how to use online strategies to draw in more viewers. For many average creators, their short drama production journey is much more difficult and less fruitful.

But with low costs and potentially high returns, even if only one out of a hundred productions succeeds, it could be sufficient to recover the expenses of the others. This high-stakes, cutthroat competition poses a significant challenge for smaller players in the micro drama industry – although they actually fueled the genre’s growth.

As more scriptwriters and short dramas flood the market, leading to content becoming increasingly similar, the chances of making profits are likely to decrease. Many short drama platforms have yet to start generating net profits.

This situation has sparked concerns among netizens and critics regarding the future of short dramas. Given the genre’s success and intense competition, a transformation seems inevitable: only the shortest dramas that cater to the largest audiences will survive.

In the meantime, however, netizens are enjoying the hugely wide selection of micro dramas still available to them. One Weibo blogger, Renmin University Professor Ma Liang (@学者马亮), writes: “I spent some time researching short videos and watched quite a few. I must admit, once you start, you just can’t stop. ”

By Ruixin Zhang, edited with further input by Manya Koetse

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China Brands, Marketing & Consumers

Tick, Tock, Time to Pay Up? Douyin Is Testing Out Paywalled Short Videos

Is content payment a new beginning for the popular short video app Douyin (China’s TikTok) or would it be the end?

Manya Koetse

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The introduction of a Douyin novel feature, that would enable content creators to impose a fee for accessing their short video content, has sparked discussions across Chinese social media. Although the feature would benefit creators, many Douyin users are skeptical.

News that Chinese social media app Douyin is rolling out a new feature which allows creators to introduce a paywall for their short video content has triggered online discussions in China this week.

The feature, which made headlines on November 16, is presently in the testing phase. A number of influential content creators are now allowed to ‘paywall’ part of their video content.

Douyin is the hugely popular app by Chinese tech giant Bytedance. TikTok is the international version of the Chinese successful short video app, and although they’re often presented as being the same product, Douyin and Tiktok are actually two separate entities.

In addition to variations in content management and general usage, Douyin differs from TikTok in terms of features. Douyin previously experimented with functionalities such as charging users for accessing mini-dramas on the platform or the ability to tip content creators.

The pay-to-view feature on Douyin would require users to pay a certain fee in Douyin coins (抖币) in order to view paywalled content. One Douyin coin is equivalent to 0.1 yuan ($0,014). The platform itself takes 30% of the income as a service charge.

According to China Securities Times or STCN (证券时报网), Douyin insiders said that any short video content meeting Douyin’s requirements could be set as “pay-per-view.”

Creators, who can set their own paywall prices, should reportedly meet three criteria to qualify for the pay-to-view feature: their account cannot have any violation records for a period of 90 days, they should have at least 100,000 followers, and they have to have completed the real-name authentication process.

On Douyin and Weibo, Chinese netizens express various views on the feature. Many people do not think it would be a good idea to charge money for short videos. One video blogger (@小片片说大片) pointed out the existing challenge of persuading netizens to pay for longer videos, let alone expecting them to pay for shorter ones.

“The moment I’d need to pay money for it, I’ll delete the app,” some commenters write.

This statement appears to capture the prevailing sentiment among most internet users regarding a subscription-based Douyin environment. According to a survey conducted by the media platform Pear Video, more than 93% of respondents expressed they would not be willing to pay for short videos.

An online poll by Pear Video showed that the majority of respondents would not be willing to pay for short videos on Douyin.

“This could be a breaking point for Douyin,” one person predicts: “Other platforms could replace it.” There are more people who think it would be the end of Douyin and that other (free) short video platforms might take its place.

Some commenters, however, had their own reasons for supporting a pay-per-view function on the platform, suggesting it would help them solve their Douyin addiction. One commenter remarked, “Fantastic, this might finally help me break free from watching short videos!” Another individual responded, “Perhaps this could serve as a remedy for my procrastination.”

As discussions about the new feature trended, Douyin’s customer service responded, stating that it would eventually be up to content creators whether or not they want to activate the paid feature for their videos, and that it would be up to users whether or not they would be interested in such content – otherwise they can just swipe away.

Another social media user wrote: “There’s only one kind of video I’m willing to pay for, and it’s not on Douyin.”

By Manya Koetse

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