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Explaining the Bu Xiaohua Case: How One Woman’s Disappearance Captured Nationwide Attention in China

This is why Bu Xiaohua’s 13-year disappearance became such a major topic of discussion on Chinese social media.

Manya Koetse

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The story of Bu Xiaohua, a Chinese MA graduate who was reunited with her family after disappearing for 13 years, has recently dominated discussions on Weibo. Her case reveals much more than just the mystery of her disappearance—it highlights systemic failures and the vulnerability of women in rural China. Here, we unpack the key aspects of her story.

Her name is Bu Xiaohua (卜小花), but for the past 13.5 years, she lived a life without that name and without any connection to the person she once was.

The story of this Chinese female MA graduate from Shanxi’s Jinzhong, born on September 1, 1979, who disappeared for over a decade and was recently found living in a village just a 2.5-hour drive from her hometown, has sparked widespread discussion on Weibo and beyond. We previously explained the story in our article here.

In brief: On November 25, 2024, a woman from Heshun County (和顺县) sought help from volunteer Zhu Yutang (朱玉堂), who focuses on reuniting families with missing loved ones, to trace the origins of her “aunt,” who had been living with her uncle Zhang Ruijun (张瑞军) for over a decade. During this time, they had multiple children together, despite the woman clearly suffering from mental illness.

As volunteer groups and authorities got involved, it was eventually revealed that the woman was Bu Xiaohua (卜小花), an MA graduate from Jinzhong who had disappeared after experiencing a schizophrenic episode in the spring of 2011. Bu was found looking emaciated, bewildered, and unkempt, and was soon reunited with her family, who immediately ensured she received the help she needed. During a medical check-up, she was found to be not only suffering from mental illness but also from malnourishment.

Bu Xiaohua in the Zhang family home.

When volunteers first met with Bu, they tried to get her to speak and learn more about her background. Among other things, she also wrote down several clues that led to the discovery of her identity, such as the names of family members. The first thing she wrote down was “run” (跑).

The note by Bu Xiaohua provided many clues about her life prior to being “taken in.”

As discussions about Bu’s disappearance continue, several aspects of this case have become focal points, highlighting the vulnerable position of Bu and many other women like her.

 

1. “收留”: Was She “Taken In” or Abducted?

 

One term that frequently comes up in discussions around Bu Xiaohua’s case is “收留” (shōu liú), meaning “to take in” or “give shelter.”

This term was used in various reports about Bu’s story, including in the first police report of December 3.

Police report of December 3, 2024, using the word “taking in.”

Many netizens pointed out that the initial police statement seemed to frame the situation as an act of human compassion, reflecting the niece’s account of how Ms. Bu allegedly “wandered” into their family home one day. The family claims they reported her to the police but eventually decided to “take her in.”

Netizens are outraged by the use of this term, as it glosses over the criminal responsibility of Zhang and his family, who essentially kept Bu Xiaohua away from her own family for over 13 years. They are accused of exploiting her mental illness and inability to consent to marriage or sexual relations, which resulted in multiple children. The exact number is unclear, though rumors suggest she had six children in total, with only two remaining in her care.

The oldest of the two children is already twelve, meaning she must have become pregnant not too long after going missing.

Some commenters have referred to this as “rape-style sheltering” (“强奸型收留”). Was it rape, human trafficking, or illegal detention?

While netizens speculated about the actual crime behind this “taking in” of a mentally ill woman, local police announced they had opened a criminal investigation into suspected illegal acts. Bu’s “husband” has since been detained, and officials are continuing to investigate the case.

No evidence or clues of Bu being trafficked have been found as of now. Investigations into the case reveal that Bu – displaying signs of mental illness according to witnesses – was alone when she walked around neighboring villages for at least ten days in July and August of 2011, some weeks after she disappeared from her home.

Bu and “husband” Zhang at her reunion with family.

The hashtags “Taking In” (#收留#) and “‘Taking In’ Shouldn’t Be Used as a Cover for Unlawful Realities” (#收留之名难掩不法之实#) have been used by netizens to protest the phrase’s use.

Online image showing all kinds of weords, from ‘human trafficking’ to ‘violence’ to shape the characters for the neutral word of ‘taking in.’

Meanwhile, some reports on the misuse of the term have been censored. The Weibo hashtag “Taking In the Female MA Graduate” (#收留女硕士#) has been taken offline and comes up with a “Sorry, the content of this topic is not displayed” message. A QQ News article titled “Female Master’s Graduate Missing for 13 Years Has Given Birth to a Son and a Daughter; The Person Who ‘Took Her In’ Responds: ‘I Didn’t Detain or Hit Her'” (“女硕士走失13年已生育一儿一女,“收留者”本人回应”) also now leads to a ‘404 page,’ indicating it has been removed.

Critics like Lawyer Zhao (@披荆斩棘赵律师), who has actively commented on this case, believe that Bu’s “husband” and his family never made any real effort to help her find her own family. They speculate that the family only agreed to let volunteers get involved because Bu’s childbearing value had long been exhausted, or because she was aging and they no longer wanted to care for her.

Zhang’s niece, whose request to volunteers initially brought this story to light, has also become an increasingly controversial figure. She recently hosted a livestream in which she claimed that the Zhang family had actually taken good care of Bu, describing her as a “good-for-nothing” who neither did housework nor fed her own children. She also defended her impoverished and disabled unlce Zhang, claiming the family is not as bad as the public says.

“Let her experience being ‘taken in’ by another family and see how she feels,” some top commenters suggested in response.

 

2. Lacking Law Enforcement: Systematic Failures Exposed

 

The outrage over the term “taking in” is directly tied to anger over inadequate law enforcement regarding the protection of women in rural China.

Years ago, local police in Heshun County, where Zhang’s family lives, were already aware of a mentally unstable woman being “taken into” a man’s home and giving birth to his children. After all, both children had a hukou (household registration). Chinese media report that police officers visited the home multiple times and allegedly continued efforts to search for her family, which indicates they understood her situation. People wonder how they could let this go on, given Zhang’s continued sexual relations with her—wouldn’t that constitute rape?

Female commenter and author Zheng Yuchuan (@郑渝川) suggested that Bu’s case is particularly troubling because of systematic failure at all levels. She wrote:

Despite population censuses, pandemic prevention measures like mass nucleic acid testing and vaccinations, as well as the issuance of birth certificates, household registrations, and school admission procedures for the two children—every single step was carried out flawlessly. Isn’t this the biggest joke within the current institutional system?

Although there are reports emphasizing the continued efforts of the police to find Bu’s family, many netizens aren’t convinced: “Why is it that the police took blood samples and conducted facial recognition comparisons, yet after 13 years, they achieved nothing? Meanwhile, a volunteer, using just a bit of intelligence, managed to make her write down some names, and this bizarre case was solved.”

Law blogger Zhang San (@张三同学) commented: “A single crime pollutes a river; a single act of unjust law enforcement pollutes the entire water source.”

 

3. A Brilliant Mind: Bu Xiaohua’s Academic Achievements

 

Another recurring topic is Bu’s academic achievements before her life with the Zhang family. Bu was a student in Yanshan University’s (燕山大学) Mechanics and Engineering program, a prestigious major.

In 2004, she wrote a thesis titled “Temperature Field of a Thin Plate with Curved Cracks During Electrothermal Crack Arrest” (带有曲线裂纹薄板电热止裂时的温度场). Her 2006 thesis was “Small Bending Deformation of an Elastic Thin Plate Under Continuous Transverse Flow-Around Conditions” (不间断横向绕流条件下弹性薄板的小弯曲变形). She obtained her MA degree in 2008.

Bu had planned to continue in academia, but due to an expired ID card, she was unable to register for her Ph.D. exam—a setback that marked the beginning of her rapidly deteriorating mental health. This eventually led to her leaving her home one day in 2011, vanishing without a trace, and ending up in her dire situation with the Zhang family.

Bu Xiaohua’s diploma

Her education is significant to the story in many ways. First, it serves as an important bridge to her past. One of her former professors, the 82-year-old Bai Xiangzhong (白象忠), was one of the names Bu first wrote on a note when volunteers from the missing persons organization came to her house and asked her about her life.

The name of Professor Bai Xiangzhong is one of the names Bu wrote down on a memo in the presence of volunteers trying to learn more about her life.

In recent news, it became known that Bai Xiangzhong learned of Bu’s story and was moved to tears upon hearing about her circumstances.

Bu’s education is also an important part of her identity. Recent videos showed Bu reading a book and pushing back her glasses—which she hadn’t had for 13.5 years—as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Recent videos showed Bu reading a book and pushing back her glasses—which she hadn’t had for 13.5 years—as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

One popular Weibo blogger (@我不是谦哥儿) wrote:

More than the Master’s degree she obtained years ago, it’s this natural skill [the way she reads and pushes back her glasses] in which we can directly observe and vividly feel the life she had. We can feel that, if it were not for the dusky farmhouse in the mountainous area where she got trapped, there would have been an entirely different possibility [for her life].

But her education is also significant in other ways. It shows that it is not just low-income, less-educated, rural women who can become victims of rape and human trafficking, but that even women with a university degree can end up in such situations.

 

4. Bu Xiaohua’s Case: A Reflection of Larger Social Issues

 

In the end, the story of Bu Xiaohua is attracting so much attention because she represents much more than just herself.

One of the most well-known stories similar to hers is that of Xiao Huamei (小花梅), the mother of eight children who was found tied to a shed in Xuzhou in 2022. After her story became a major trending topic on Chinese social media, local authorities launched a thorough investigation and uncovered the woman’s true identity. They found that she had been a victim of human trafficking back in 1998.

Like Bu, Xiao Huamei also suffered from mental illness. And similar to Bu’s case, local authorities failed to step in. The family received subsidies, and local officials approved the marriage between the mentally ill woman and her husband, Dong Zhimin, who was later sentenced to prison for his involvement in the human trafficking case.

This all brings back associations with the Chinese film Blind Mountain (盲山, 2007). Directed by Li Yang (李杨), the movie revolves around Bai Xuemei (白雪梅), a recent college graduate who is tricked into traveling to a remote mountain village under the pretense of securing a job. Once there, she is drugged, kidnapped, and sold into a forced marriage with a rural farmer. Trapped in the isolated and impoverished village, she faces constant physical and psychological abuse from her “husband,” his family, and even the local community, who see her captivity as normal or necessary. Despite multiple attempts to escape, she is repeatedly caught and encounters indifference or complicity from those around her, including the police. She is only rescued years later.

From Blind Mountain (2007).

Films such as Blind Mountain and the 2022 case of Xiao Huamei have helped create more awareness of the vulnerable position of Chinese women in rural areas, particularly those dealing with mental or physical disabilities. Last year, a marriage in Henan was denied after a local official found the woman, who was deaf and mute, had not learned sign language and could not write (read more).

But the problem persists. China, particularly its rural villages, faces a shortage of women stemming from the decades-long one-child policy and a traditional preference for boys. This has been further exacerbated by women migrating out of villages in search of better prospects. As a result, many rural single men are unable to marry, especially when they face additional challenges such as poverty or disability. Since marriage and children are considered social norms, these men and their families are often willing to take drastic measures. This situation has fueled the human trafficking of women for forced marriage in China since the 1980s.

“Why not re-release Blind Mountain?” some wonder. “It feels so relevant today.”

As for Bu, she is currently doing well given the circumstances. Her brother, who searched for her for so many years, is determined to take care of his sister. “My little sister is the treasure of our entire family,” he recently said. “Every day that I am on this earth is a day that I will take care of her.”

By Manya Koetse
(follow on X, LinkedIn, or Instagram)

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©2024 Whatsonweibo. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce our content without permission – you can contact us at info@whatsonweibo.com.

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Manya Koetse is a sinologist, writer, and public speaker specializing in China’s social trends, digital culture, and online media ecosystems. She founded What’s on Weibo in 2013 and now runs the Eye on Digital China newsletter. Learn more at manyakoetse.com or follow her on X, Instagram, or LinkedIn.

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China Memes & Viral

A Chinamaxxing Brand, a Stressed-Out Possum, and Japan’s Lost Decades

How Adidas won and Nike lost, Japan’s lost decades as a mirror for China, and why a possum is the new workplace spirit animal.

Manya Koetse

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🔥 China Trend Watch (week 23-24 | 2026) Part of Eye on Digital China by Manya Koetse. Here I track and explain the stories, memes, debates, and viral moments shaping online conversations in China, so you don’t have to. This edition was sent to paid subscribers — subscribe to receive the next issue in your inbox.

 
What’s in this newsletter?

  • How Adidas turned a translation mistake into one of China’s most successful marketing campaigns.
  • Nike is trending for all the wrong reasons.
  • 10 quick scrolls: summer snow, a hidden-camera scandal, and the goose leg lady who sold duck legs all along.
  • Why Chinese readers are looking to Japan’s “Lost Decades” for answers.
  • Meet China’s newest workplace spirit animal.
  • Why Henan’s farmers are begging thieves to steal their crops.

Just five years ago, Adidas was one of the most criticized foreign brands in China. Now, it seems to have become one of the most celebrated. Ironically, the brand’s biggest China success yet started out with a mistake it made last month.

In 2021, Adidas – along with Nike and other foreign brands – faced severe backlash and boycotts in China for participating in the Better Cotton Initiative (BCI) move to stop sourcing cotton from the Xinjiang region, which Chinese consumers viewed as a hostile anti-Chinese political stance (and was framed that way by state media and official channels).

Chinese livestreamers for the brands were scolded online, Adidas employees were brought to tears, and stores across the country saw their sales drop. People began posting videos of themselves burning their Nike Air Jordans on Weibo. For the brands involved, it became a marketing nightmare.

Screenshot of SCMP report about the Nike sneakers being burnt, Adidas employees facing backlash back in 2021.

But now, Adidas has managed to completely turn its image around in mainland China, where it is being praised for its top-of-game PR skills.

 

Adidas: Heading to Town to Take Care of Business

 

Over the past few years, Adidas has increasingly embraced “New Chinese Style” (新中式), a design direction that blends Chinese aesthetics with contemporary fashion. The October 2025 launch of its “Chinese New Year Jacket”—combining tang suit-inspired elements with classic Adidas sportswear—became a huge hit, not just in China but globally.

The Adidas Chinese New Year that became a huge hit in 2025. On the left: American influencer Hasan Piker wearing the jacket while visiting Tiananmen Square in Beijing.

But that was only the beginning of Adidas’s social media success in China.

In late May, some netizens spotted a machine-translated text on the Adidas website that immediately went viral for its unintentional humor.

A jacket promoted in English with the unremarkable phrase “pair it with jeans for errands around town“ appeared on the Chinese website as the clunky “pair it with jeans to handle business in the city“ (搭配牛仔裤,在城里办事 zài chénglǐ bàn shì).

The original English text and the clunky machine translation on the right.

More than a simple mistake, it was a cultural mistranslation. Running some errands is not the same as 办事 bàn shì in Chinese, which is more formal, bureaucratic language for handling affairs, such as going to the bank, notary, or police station—not a quick run to buy some eggs and milk.

For many Chinese netizens, the phrase evoked an image of an old villager cycling into the county town for official business, all while wearing an Adidas jacket.

Although the website was quickly adjusted, the meme was already snowballing and evolved into the more playful “off to town to take care of business” (进城办事 jìn chéng bàn shì).

One popular comment played on the rural-to-city associations of the phrase:

💬 “While you’re back in the village talking trash about me, I’m already wearing Adidas and heading into town to take care of business.”

Adidas responded with surprising speed and wit.

Instead of apologizing for the mistake, they posted a video showing their own “off to town to do business” T-shirt, which quickly became available for sale online and at flagship stores in Beijing, Shanghai, and Chengdu.

Chinese actor and Adidas ambassador Li Xian (李现) was later spotted wearing a “handling business” T-shirt, and the comment sections exploded.

Adidas read the room and went on to launch a marketing campaign featuring China’s popular possum meme wearing one of its jackets alongside slogans such as “Wear Adidas, Handle Serious Affairs” and “Wear Adi, Handle Big Things“—a nod to the original mistranslation and a series of viral wordplays built around the brand’s Chinese name (including “穿Adi办大事” and “穿Adi, 办das”, with das meaning dàshì 大事, “important business” here).

They also put up signs labeling some of their stores as “Adidas Errands Office” (阿迪办事处).

Rather than distancing itself from the joke, Adidas amplified it, becoming even funnier than the netizens themselves. Other brands even jumped in on the hype and referenced Adidas in their campaigns.

Because the response felt effortless, authentic, and on-brand, it greatly boosted Adidas’s popularity and appeal among young Chinese consumers.

 

Nike’s Grass is No Longer Greener

 

Sportswear giant Nike also became a major trending topic in China over the past week, but for entirely different reasons. Nike hasn’t been doing all that well recently, and the brand’s decline went viral in the same week that Adidas’s success was evident.

Nike became a top trending topic under the hashtag “Chinese consumers are abandoning Nike faster than anyone expected” (中国消费者抛弃耐克比想象中更快) after reports that a pair of sneakers originally sold for 899 yuan (US$132) are now selling for 429 yuan ($63) and still failing to attract buyers.

Nike’s decline is noteworthy because the brand was once booming in China. As with many other Western brands, it symbolized quality, prestige, and a cosmopolitan future for much of the 1990s and 2000s.

In a 2011 study of Chinese consumer aspirations, one respondent imagined a future in which she would drive a Mercedes-Benz, wear Nike, and eat KFC—a vision of modernity built around foreign brands. Another person dreamt of wearing “Nike clothes and Nike shoes (…) on the green grass, swinging golf clubs under the golden sunshine.”[1]

But Nike’s grass is no longer greener. Chinese commenters largely agree that much of the trust and desire surrounding the brand has eroded.

Many former Nike consumers now prefer Chinese brands such as Anta, Li-Ning or ERKE. Multiple posts on Chinese social media cite the Xinjiang cotton controversy as a turning point from which Nike never fully recovered.

 

The Localization Dilemma: A Strategic Catch-22?

 

The contrasting fortunes of Nike and Adidas reveal something important about the position of foreign brands in China today.

As domestic brands improved and narratives of national rejuvenation and the “Chinese Dream” gained prominence under Xi Jinping, consumer sentiment toward Western brands shifted dramatically, especially amid a growing number of controversies involving them.

From a Dolce & Gabbana campaign deemed racist to a witch hunt for Western brands listing Hong Kong and Taiwan as separate countries, international brands increasingly started struggling to find their place between politics, patriotism, and consumers who are choosing “Made in China” over global consumer culture.

As Zhihong Gao[2] observed as early as 2012, the rise of cultural confidence and renewed appreciation for Chinese traditions created a dilemma for foreign brands.

They find themselves caught in a strategic catch-22: if they localize too much, they risk losing the distinctiveness that made their brands attractive in the first place, while also reinforcing consumer preference for local cultural elements; yet if they remain too foreign, they risk appearing culturally tone-deaf and disconnected from Chinese consumers.

This is where Adidas appears to have found a sweet spot.

Unlike Nike, which seems to be living off its past success while showing little urgency in adapting to the Chinese market, Adidas has fully embraced Chinese digital culture, local humor, wordplay, and youth trends without abandoning its own identity.

Rather than pretending to be Chinese, Adidas is participating in Chinese culture as a distinctly foreign brand. By celebrating the unique elements of Chinese culture, both in tradition and modernity, it is boosting both its own image and the cultural pride it is tapping into. That is Chinamaxxing in a nutshell.

 

[1] Kelly Tian and Lily Dong, Consumer-Citizens of China: The Role of Foreign Brands in the Imagined Future China (London: Routledge, 2011), 70–71.

[2] Zhihong Gao, “Chinese Grassroots Nationalism and Its Impact on Foreign Brands,” Journal of Macromarketing 32, no. 2 (2012): 184–185.


 

10 Quick Scrolls

 

🎓 Gaokao. From June 7-9, the Chinese 2026 Gaokao (高考, national college entrance exams), took place and dominated every major Chinese platform. One viral joke reflected a growing fear among young Chinese that a university degree no longer guarantees meaningful employment: “If you fail the exams, you could be a delivery driver in four days. If you pass the exams, you could be a delivery driver in four years.

❄️ Snow. One day it’s air conditioning; the next it’s snow. Beijing saw a rare case of “summer snow” on June 6, when a cold front and rain sent temperatures tumbling, leading to unexpected snowfall in the Yanqing Olympic Park area.

📸 Voyeurism. A hidden camera was discovered by students in a women’s restroom at the Shanghai University of Political Science and Law. The camera, pointed at a toilet stall, was linked to an account livestreaming footage to illegal voyeuristic groups. Police have detained a suspect: a 33-year-old male student at the university.

🐯 Corruption. Wei Xiaodong (魏小东), a veteran official whose career spanned more than four decades and included top positions in Beijing’s political establishment, is now under investigation for suspected serious violations of Party discipline and law. He is the seventh full ministerial-rank official placed under investigation so far in 2026.

🏢 Real Estate. A man in Xi’an who bought a presale apartment on the 34th floor was shocked to discover, when it came time to take possession, that the building had only been constructed up to the 32nd floor. Despite winning in court, he still has not recovered all of his money because the developer reportedly has no assets left.

🍔 Fast Food. Is there room for another player in China’s crowded fast-food market? The US chain Wendy’s is planning a major expansion into China, with a reported target of 1,000 stores over the next ten years.

📱 Extravagance. A Chinese man who paid 297,000 yuan ($43,900) for a luxury Vertu phone back in 2015 has gone viral after revealing it no longer works in mainland China because it only supports 2G. The alligator leather-and-diamond phone has effectively become a very pricey paperweight. “If I’d bought gold instead, it’d be worth five times as much today,” he lamented.

💙 Awkward. Blued (蓝色), China’s largest gay dating app, was temporarily down on June 9. As the app’s name appeared on Weibo’s trending charts, people were cracking up over the comments from women innocently asking what kind of app it is, since their husbands seem to be on it all the time.

🚀 Space Diplomacy. During Xi Jinping’s welcome banquet in Pyeongyang, images of Chinese astronauts were displayed on a giant screen. With every single moment orchestrated, the prominent display of China’s space achievements got some Chinese commentators talking about the possibility of a North Korean astronaut one day joining a mission to China’s Tiangong space station.

🦆 Duck legs. “Goose Leg Auntie” (鹅腿阿姨), the Beijing street vendor who went viral in 2023 for her mouthwatering roasted goose legs, has run into trouble with local regulators. Turns out she was selling duck legs all along.


 

What China’s Reading

Japan’s “Lost Decades” as China’s Mirror

As slower economic growth becomes the new normal in China, and anxieties about the future, employment, and AI disruption increasingly shape everyday conversations, many Chinese are looking back at the period following Japan’s economic bubble burst and asking what lessons China can learn from it.

This is why Japan as a Mirror: A Survival Guide for the Economic Downturn (以日为镜:经济下行期穿越指南) by author Wang Xiwei (王熙威) has become so popular. The non-fiction work, first published on WeRead on May 21, quickly climbed into the platform’s top rankings.

Wang, a China-born graduate of Peking University and the University of Tokyo who has lived in Japan for more than twenty years, uses a series of narrative case studies to explore how ordinary Japanese people navigated the country’s post-bubble stagnation, from the early 1990s onward.

The book zooms in on personal stories: elite university graduates working in convenience stores, a salaryman who becomes an internet café drifter, families trapped by decades-long mortgages, housewives embracing minimalism, and professionals forced to reinvent themselves after career setbacks.

By focusing on individual experiences during Japan’s so-called “Lost Decades,” Wang seeks to offer Chinese readers perspectives on coping with uncertainty and adapting to economic change. The book presents Japan as a mirror for contemporary China, which is also facing economic slowdown, demographic pressures, and reduced social mobility, and widespread online discussions about neijuan (”involution”), tangping (”lying flat”), and consumption downgrading.

One 5-star review on Weibo said:

💬 “Many feel that, as individuals, we can’t change the broader environment. But what we can do is look at how different industries in Japan changed during periods of economic decline—and the new opportunities that emerged from those changes—and use those experiences as a reference when making our own plans. In doing so, we may be able to prevent our own lives from slipping into a “downturn period” of their own (下行期).”


 

On the Feed

Possum Staring Out Window: China’s New Meme Spirit Animal

Chinese social media has been taken over by a little opossum staring out of a window with its hands behind its back. Standing there, the little creature seems to be contemplating life. The image is often accompanied by self-deprecating one-liners such as:

– “I may not have made any money, but at least I exhausted myself.

– “When I handle something, you definitely shouldn’t feel reassured.

The “hands-behind-back opossum” (背手负鼠) has become an unexpected social media star and emotional spokesperson for young people in China. They appreciate the ugly-cute animal because, although it looks calm and collected on the outside, they imagine it is actually exhausted and anxious on the inside (appropriately enough, the opossum’s most famous defense mechanism is pretending to be dead). They relate because it’s how many of them feel in their daily lives and at work.

It’s unclear where the original photograph came from, but since it was first adapted as a meme, it has exploded from WeChat to Xiaohongshu and beyond.

By now, its use has become highly versatile, and the opossum itself has become a mood—especially when it comes to frustrating workplace dynamics:

– “Received. Cannot be done.”

– “This matter is not urgent, but it definitely needs to be done fast.”

– “As for tomorrow’s matters, you’ll know the day after tomorrow.


 

The Online Phrase to Know

“Want Some Garlic Scapes?”

· 你要蒜苔吗?Nǐ yào suàntái ma?

· or: 要蒜苔不? Yào suàntái bù?

Henan’s meme of the year started because farmers have so many garlic scapes, they’re practically begging people to take them away.

Since May, “Want some garlic scapes?” has become a local joke and alternative greeting in China’s Henan province — and a sign of the sympathy many people feel for struggling farmers.

Garlic scapes, the curly green shoots of the garlic plant that are eaten as a vegetable, have seen such an oversupply that prices fell below the cost of harvesting them. Yet farmers couldn’t simply leave them in the fields, because that would reduce the yield of the garlic bulbs themselves.

In other words: farmers didn’t want the garlic scapes, but they couldn’t afford not to harvest them either.

The situation quickly became meme material. One Henan farmer went viral on Douyin after saying: “I hope 50 thieves come today and steal all my garlic scapes. If you don’t know how to steal, I’ll teach you…”

Image: A meme showing two sad-looking dogs standing in farm fields, each trying to attract garlic-scape thieves. One dog shouts, “Come steal from my field first!”

Another running joke is that people have started secretly hanging bundles of garlic scapes on their neighbors’ door handles before running away. Home security cameras, one article joked, are no longer being used to catch thieves. Instead, they’re being used to identify anonymous garlic-scape givers so the vegetables can be returned.

The memes keep coming, with AI-generated images imagining garlic-scape fashion, garlic-scape artwork, and even questionable inventions such as garlic-scape-flavored lattes or beer.

Behind the humor lies a harsher reality. According to Lanjing News, many farmers can no longer afford to hire workers to harvest the crop. Some families that previously earned around 30,000 yuan (US$4,200) a year from garlic scapes alone may make only a third of that this year.

Part of the problem is that strong garlic prices encouraged farmers to increase production. But bumper harvests across multiple regions all reached the market during the same April–May period, worsening the oversupply and pushing prices down even further.

The situation is an economic nightmare for many farmers. On the bright side, besides having plenty of garlic scapes, Henan now also has plenty of online jokes.


 
That’s a wrap!


 

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Chapter Dive

My Mum Has Two Husbands: The OPPO Mother’s Day Fiasco and 7 Other Gender Marketing Fails in China

Inside OPPO’s Mother’s Day PR fiasco and other failed marketing campaigns in China’s gender minefield

Manya Koetse

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The backlash to OPPO’s Mother’s Day ad came from multiple directions, from grassroots netizens to official organizations. Here’s a closer look at the controversy, along with 7 other cases that show how gender-related marketing has become a recurring minefield for brands in China.

Mother’s Day is over, but OPPO is still recovering. The Chinese smartphone brand went viral over the weekend for a Mother’s Day marketing campaign that failed spectacularly. In the campaign, OPPO used the slogan: “My mom has two ‘husbands.’”

The accompanying text read:

My mom has two ‘husbands.’ One is my dad, and the other one she sees twice a year. She barely dresses up for dates with my dad, but when she sees the other one, she’d wear a wedding dress if she could.” (“我妈有两个‘老公’,一个是我爸,另一个一年见两回。跟我爸约会基本不打扮,见另一个,她恨不得穿婚纱。”)

The OPPO ad was published online on May 8, 2026.

With this ad, OPPO was likely trying to tap into digital culture and resonate with younger consumers by using online slang.

In Chinese fandom subcultures, female fans sometimes refer to their idols as their “husband” (老公, lǎogōng) to express their devotion. It is part of a broader online joke, with some fans even incorporating life-size cardboard cutouts of their favorite celebrities into their weddings.

The phrase “real husband” (真老公) gained wider mainstream attention in late 2025 after a young Chinese bride unexpectedly ran into rapper and singer Jackson Wang on her wedding day and posted:

💬 “Who understands this? I met my real husband on my wedding day!” (“谁懂啊!婚礼当天遇到了真老公!!”)

The ‘real husband’ post that went viral in late 2025 and early 2026.

Although some commenters found it funny, the bride was heavily criticized for publicly calling a celebrity her “real husband” on her wedding day, using the same word (老公) that refers to her literal spouse, as if she were placing her idol above her actual groom.

💬 “This makes it seem as though she does not truly regard the man she is legally marrying as her husband at all,” one among many commenters wrote.

While OPPO was probably aiming for a tongue-in-cheek campaign featuring an energetic and youthful mother who adores her idol, the company appears to have badly misread the room.

After the ad was posted on Weibo and other social media channels ahead of Mother’s Day, backlash quickly followed.

Many netizens were confused and did not understand the reference to fan culture. Some said they were simply “baffled” by what they saw as an inappropriate message suggesting that mom was cheating—and on Mother’s Day, no less!

💬 “Without reading the comments, I thought the ad was saying the mother was cheating and didn’t love her husband, but had a side lover she was crazy about,” one Xiaohongshu commenter wrote.

Others asked whether the creators would have been willing to run a similar Father’s Day campaign with the line: “My dad has two wives.”

Fan culture remains far removed from the everyday experience of many ordinary Chinese netizens, creating not just a gender divide but also a generational and social one.

Even when people understand that an “idol husband” is purely fictional, the term 老公 (lǎogōng) still carries the literal meaning of “husband” and implies emotional devotion to someone outside the marriage. For some, that feels disrespectful.

Many also questioned the contrast at the heart of the campaign: why does mum barely dress up for dates with her husband, yet would supposedly wear a wedding dress to see a celebrity?

Others believe celebrity fandom in China has already gone too far, and felt that using this language in a mainstream advertising campaign was especially misplaced.

As one marketing commentator on Xiaohongshu Cathy聊品牌热点) put it, OPPO had managed to offend almost every relevant audience: male consumers who saw the ad as disrespectful to husbands, fandom communities who did not want their inside jokes dragged into mainstream advertising, women who support gender equality, and many others who hold strong views about traditional family values.

 

Emotional Infidelity as a Form of Female Self-Expression

 

The brand quickly took the campaign offline and apologized. But in their initial apology post, OPPO explained that it had merely intended to challenge gender stereotypes and present a “more diverse and multi-dimensional image of today’s mothers,” women who can enjoy celebrity fandoms and pursue hobbies beyond their roles as wives and mothers.

OPPO’s first apology: “Our original intention was to break stereotypes and present a more diverse and multi-dimensional image of today’s mothers.”

That explanation sparked another wave of criticism, with many arguing that OPPO had completely missed the point. Few people objected to the idea that mothers can have celebrity idols or personal passions. What many found problematic was the suggestion of romantic involvement outside the marriage.

One Weibo commenter (@甲申鬼友), who called the entire episode a “PR disaster”, suggested that the problem was that OPPO framed emotional infidelity as a form of female self-expression.

They wrote:

💬 “The controversial slogan “My mom has two husbands” was not about challenging stereotypes about mothers. Instead, it glorified the tacky behavior of a married woman calling a celebrity “husband” and wanting to wear a wedding dress to see him, presenting it as a form of female self-expression. Implicitly, it suggested that a real husband should unconditionally accept his wife’s “emotional infidelity.” (…). The message conveyed by the campaign was clear enough: it alienated men and mothers who still value loyalty and commitment in relationships.”

It soon became clear that OPPO’s handling of the issue was turning into a bigger problem than the ad itself.

As netizens continued to criticize the campaign, the controversy was amplified by blogs, mainstream media, and state-affiliated organizations.

The China Advertising Association (CAA), the country’s leading advertising body operating under state supervision, weighed in, along with the All-China Women’s Federation (ACWF), China’s main state-linked women’s organization.

Both organizations echoed familiar Party messaging, criticizing marketing that crosses the boundaries of public morality, deviates from core socialist values, violates traditional family ethics, or “misleads the public, especially young people, about social values.”

As the controversy escalated, attention also turned to OPPO’s China region brand strategy director, Yu Siyue (余思月), a graduate of Wuhan University’s School of Chinese Language and Literature.

The university itself then entered the discussion by posting a statement on Weibo saying it was “shocked” by the campaign. It said it “strongly disagrees with the content (..) and the values conveyed,” distancing itself from both the campaign and its alumna. (In a detail I found unintentionally amusing, the statement also noted that Yu had once been praised for helping an elderly passenger on a bus.)

Wuhan University itself was also criticized for inserting itself into a controversy that had little to do with the university. Chinese media outlet Yicai asked: “Who forced Wuhan University into this disastrous move?” Even political commentator Hu Xijin called the statement an overreaction and a sign of “public opinion anxiety syndrome” (舆情焦虑症).

In the end, OPPO apologizedc a second time on Monday, this time stating that both the campaign and its initial response reflected serious shortcomings in the company’s values and judgment. The company said it had lost sight of “upholding the boundaries of China’s core socialist values.”

OPPO said the incident had led to disciplinary measures against those responsible, and the company promised it would ensure that future campaigns better align with “mainstream values.”

 

Lessons to Be Learned

 

There are a few things to be learned from OPPO’s PR nightmare:

🔍 1. Marketing fails are often about the response

Once a marketing controversy breaks out, the company’s response often matters more than the original mistake. If the response fails to address the actual criticism, the fallout can become much worse than the initial problem.

🔍 2. In China, PR controversies quickly become political issues

In China, public relations is inherently political. What begins as criticism from netizens can quickly be amplified by state media and official organizations. In the process, a relatively minor marketing controversy can be reframed as a broader debate about morality and family values. Once that happens, the issue is no longer just about a poorly judged advertisement but becomes a tool for boosting official narratives and reinforcing broader Party priorities.

🔍 3. In China’s cancel culture, everyone rushes to distance themselves

Chinese online backlash can be intense and unforgiving. Once a controversy takes off, everyone rushes to distance themselves from it. The fact that OPPO’s brand director became a target, and that even Wuhan University felt compelled to issue a public statement, illustrates this dynamic. At the same time, such overreactions can backfire, especially when an organization emphasizes that it is “not involved” by publicly engaging in the controversy. Sometimes, silence really is golden.

🔍 4. Gender-related marketing in China is a minefield

This episode is another reminder of how difficult it can be for brands to engage with gender-related themes in China. Companies eager to appear youthful and relatable may underestimate just how sensitive these issues are, and how quickly a seemingly playful campaign can turn into a major controversy.

 

Not Just OPPO: When Gender-Related Marketing Goes Wrong

 

OPPO is far from alone.

In recent years, language, jokes, and messaging related to gender, feminism, and male-female relationships have become some of the most sensitive issues in Chinese advertising.

In a rapidly changing China, gender roles are evolving, identities are shifting, and ideas about what is considered feminine or masculine are increasingly contested.

Expectations around what female consumers want and what male consumers value are also in flux. Younger and older generations, and especially male and female netizens, often disagree about what is socially acceptable amid women’s growing assertiveness, persistent patriarchal attitudes, and changing global trends.

For advertisers and creative directors, this creates a particularly difficult environment. Brands are trying to tap into consumers’ purchasing power and keep up with shifting social norms, while also staying within the bounds of official values and political priorities. As a result, it is easy to misread the mood and miss the mark.

Campaigns can inadvertently reinforce traditional gender hierarchies, sexualize women, portray men in ways that spark backlash, or rely on outdated stereotypes.

And, as the OPPO case shows, even campaigns that genuinely aim to challenge stereotypes can end up provoking criticism instead.

Below are seven other examples of brand campaigns in China that backfired over the past decade.


 

💥 #1 Blue Moon: Mother’s Day Marketing Backfires

 

Marketing campaign (2024): “Let Mom Do the Laundry More Easily”
Main problem: Reinforcing outdated gender stereotypes

China’s household cleaning giant Blue Moon (蓝月亮) also found itself at the center of a marketing controversy after a 2024 Mother’s Day elevator ad campaign promoting its premium laundry detergent with the slogans “Let mom do the laundry more easily” (“让妈妈洗衣更轻松”) and “Mom, you use it first” (“妈妈您先用”).

Many users objected to the message, arguing that it portrayed doing laundry as something that naturally belongs to mothers and reinforced traditional gender stereotypes. As part of a Mother’s Day campaign, critics said the messaging was particularly inappropriate.

As in OPPO’s case, Blue Moon’s crisis management made matters worse. The company’s initial response suggested the controversy was merely a “misunderstanding” and said the campaign was intended to express gratitude to mothers. Many netizens disagreed, arguing that Mother’s Day and mothers doing the laundry had nothing to do with each other.


 

💥 #2 Fuyanjie: “Too Dark and Stinky”

 

Marketing campaign (2022): “83% of men are unwilling to go down on their partner because it’s too dark and stinky”
Main problem: Straightforwardly sexist

In 2022, the well-known Chinese feminine hygiene brand Fuyanjie (妇炎洁) promoted a pink-colored intimate wash by claiming that “surveys show that 83% of men from South Korea, Japan, and China are unwilling to go down on their partner because it’s too dark and stinky” (“中日韩三国社会调查显示:83%的男性不愿意给伴侣口爱的原因竟然是太黑太难闻下不去嘴”).

Besides promising to make the genital area pinker, the campaign also suggested that hyperpigmentation could be caused by wearing tight pants and having too much sex.

The brand drew widespread criticism for being vulgar, insulting to women, and completely unscientific. Some netizens suggested that the ad makers should focus on turning their own penises pink instead.

Fuyanjie apologized and took both the campaign and the product offline.

(Remarkably, this was the brand’s second major controversy. In 2016, one of its intimate wash products carried the slogan: “I can’t wash away your past, but I can wash your future clean” (“我不能洗掉你的过去,但我能洗干净你的未来”), a line widely criticized as slut-shaming.)


 

💥 #3 Coconut Palm: Big Boobs, Short Skirts, and a Marketing Strategy Built on Controversy

 

Marketing campaign (2022): Busty women in tight tops and shorts dancing on livestream
Main problem: Objectification of women & crossing official lines

During China’s National Day holiday in the 2022 Covid & livestream year, Chinese coconut drink brand Coconut Palm (椰树椰汁) found itself at the center of controversy over a series of promotional streams on Douyin.

The company had already been fined twice by authorities for advertisements and packaging suggesting that drinking Coconut Palm could promote breast enlargement.

The 2022 livestreams featured several attractive, busty women in tight tops and short shorts dancing in front of the camera. The broadcasts drew even more attention when they were repeatedly interrupted and cut off by the platform.

There was little new about the campaign. Coconut Palm’s marketing has revolved around voluptuous women and sexually suggestive slogans for more than 25 years.

One of the company’s most famous slogans was “I’ve been drinking it since I was little” (“我从小喝到大”). While literally meaning “I’ve been drinking it since childhood,” the phrase can also be interpreted as “I grew big [breasts] by drinking it.”

The livestreams reignited debate on Chinese social media about the objectification of women in advertising and online culture. Coconut Palm is the only example on this list where controversy appears to be a core part of the brand’s marketing strategy. And while regulators have repeatedly taken issue with its approach, many consumers seem to appreciate the brand precisely for its refusal to change.


 

💥 #4 Ubras: “Underwear That Helps Women Win in the Workplace”

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Marketing campaign (2021): Underwear so comfortable that it can “help women lie down and win in the workplace”
Main problem: Sexist and offensive

Popular talk show host and comedian Li Dan (李诞) sparked controversy on Chinese social media in 2021 over a promotional slogan for the Chinese women’s underwear brand Ubras. Their slogan (“让女性轻松躺赢职场”) can be loosely translated as “make it easy for women to win in the workplace lying down.”

The phrase was widely interpreted as suggesting that women could use their bodies or sexuality to gain an advantage at work. According to the brand, the intended message was simply that Ubras bras are so comfortable that women could “lie down and win.” The full slogan was: “一个让女性躺赢职场的装备” — “equipment that helps women lie down and win in the workplace.”

Many people felt it was inappropriate not only for a male celebrity to promote women’s underwear, but also for the campaign to draw a connection between lingerie and workplace success.

Ubras and Li Dan both apologized for the “inappropriate wording,” and all related promotional content was removed.


 

💥 #5 Intel: When a Brand Ambassador Becomes the Controversy

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Marketing campaign (2021): “Intel’s standards are even higher than mine when choosing a partner”
Main problem: Caught in China’s gender wars

Tech company Intel sparked controversy in 2021 by appointing Chinese comedian Yang Li (杨笠) as a brand ambassador in China. Yang Li had become a polarizing figure because of her jokes about men, including her famous line: “Men are adorable, but mysterious. After all, they can look so average and yet be so full of confidence.”

In Intel’s campaign, Yang said: “Intel’s standards are so high — even higher than mine when choosing a partner.” (“英特尔的眼光太高了,比我挑对象的眼光都高。”)

The line itself was relatively harmless. What triggered the backlash was Yang’s public persona.

Some male netizens accused Yang of being sexist and argued that Intel, a company selling laptops and computer chips, should not be represented by a comedian known for mocking men — especially when men were seen as a key target audience.

Intel subsequently deleted the advertisement from its social media channels and ended its collaboration with Yang Li.

That decision, however, sparked a second wave of criticism. Many female netizens accused Intel of caving to online pressure and asked what had happened to the company’s commitment to diversity and inclusion. Others mocked Intel for changing its marketing strategy to appease China’s “ordinary yet confident” men.


 

💥 #6 Juewei Duck Neck: “Tender, Juicy — Want Some?”

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Marketing campaign (2017): Sexually suggestive Singles’ Day poster
Main problem: Vulgar and objectifying

Ahead of the 2017 Singles’ Day shopping festival, Chinese snack chain Juewei Duck Neck (绝味鸭脖), one of China’s largest duck neck and marinated meat brands, published a promotional poster on its Tmall store showing a cartoon woman in short shorts lying on a bed with chains around her ankles and her legs spread apart, with one of the company’s products placed in front of her.

The slogan read: “Tender, juicy — want some?” (“鲜嫩多汁,想要吗”). The sexually suggestive image triggered immediate controversy and widespread criticism.

Juewei Duck Neck later issued a nationwide apology, and both the company and the advertising agency responsible for the campaign were fined 600,000 yuan (approximately US$88,000) each.


💥 #7 IKEA: “If You Don’t Bring Back a Boyfriend, Don’t Call Me Mom”

Marketing campaign (2017): Turning parental pressure to marry into a lifestyle ad Main problem: Reinforcing social pressure on unmarried women

A 30-second IKEA commercial sparked controversy in China in 2017 for portraying parental pressure on an unmarried daughter to find a boyfriend.

In the ad, a mother tells her daughter at the dinner table: “If you don’t bring back a boyfriend next time, then don’t call me Mom.” (“再不带男朋友回来,就别叫我妈,”)

The doorbell then rings, and a young man holding flowers appears. The parents immediately brighten, make the living room more welcoming, and set out IKEA tableware for a celebratory meal. The tagline reads: “Celebrate everyday life easily” (“轻松庆祝每一天”).

The ad drew widespread criticism, especially because it aired at a time when many women in China were pushing back against intense social pressure to marry by a certain age. Critics argued that IKEA was trivializing this while reinforcing outdated expectations about marriage and filial duty.

IKEA apologized and removed the commercial.\


Eye on Digital China, by Manya Koetse, is co-published on Substack and What’s on Weibo. Both feature the same new content — so you can read and subscribe wherever you prefer. Substack offers community features, while What’s on Weibo provides full archive access. 

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