SubscribeLog in
Connect with us

China Arts & Entertainment

‘Humiliating’ Korean K-Swiss Commercial Enrages Chinese Netizens, Fuels Anti-Korean Sentiment

K-Swiss has sparked outrage on Chinese social media.

Manya Koetse

Published

on

A Korean commercial by American footwear company K-Swiss has recently sparked outrage on Chinese social media. The ad video depicts an alleged Chinese character in a way that is called “insulting” and “humiliating” to China. The controversy fuels anti-Korean sentiments amidst China-South Korea tensions, negatively impacting the popularity and presence of Korean pop culture in the PRC.

On August 3, Sina News, along with several other Chinese media, reported that popular Korean actor Park Bo Gum (朴宝剑) appeared in a commercial that is “insulting to China”. The message states that it is unreasonable for Park “to make money in China” and then “humiliate Chinese people”.

Park Bo Gum is famous in mainland China, where Korean popular culture has been booming since the early 2000s. The major popularity of Korean pop culture in the PRC is also referred to as Hallyu, or “Korean Wave”.

sinweibo

The K-Swiss commercial caused a storm of criticism on Chinese social media, where the Sina News post alone was already shared over 5700 times, liked 21,000 times, and receiving more than 19,500 comments within 48 hours after it was posted. Other accounts posting about the video also received thousands of comments, making the issue a trending topic on Sina Weibo, using hashtags like “Korean commercial vilifies The Great Wall [China]” (#韩国广告丑化万里长城#).

“He [Park] comes to China to fill his pockets and then ridicules us,” one of the top comments says. Other Weibo users say Park is “no longer a pop idol” in their eyes or in their country (“国家面前无偶像”), and call him “deceitful” and “no longer welcome in China”.

Controversial game of chess

The 50-second commercial for K-Swiss, an American apparel company, shows Park playing a the Go board game against an alleged Chinese rival named ‘The Great Wall’ (万里长城). Like chess, Go is a strategy board game in which the aim is to surround more territory than the opponent. The game originated from ancient China, and is considered one of the oldest and most refined Chinese strategy games.

kwiss1

After showing how the ‘Chinese’ player makes a move and just when it is Park’s turn, the commercial shifts to a party scene where the two players are dancing on the chess board. Park, in his K-Swiss sneakers, is portrayed as a popular kid with smart moves, his opponent is somewhat clumsy, chubby, and unfashionable. Not only does he have bad dancing skills, he is also slapped by a woman on the dance floor – a move that is laughed about by Park.

kwiss4

kwiss8

kwiss6

Back to the actual chess game, Park finally makes the winning move. As the Chinese name of his opponent [“Great Wall”] is clearly visible, the sound of a goat bleating is played and the commercial ends with a happy Park.

kswiss9

kswiss10

Shutting out Korean stars due to THAAD

By now, the commercial has become highly controversial on Chinese social media, where a majority of netizens denounce it, finding it insulting and discriminatory to China. Many netizens argue that Park should no longer be welcomed in China after choosing to feature in this commercial. “It is not without reason that we’re shutting out Korean stars,” one netizen comments.

The netizen refers to the recent request made by the Chinese State Administration of Press, Publication, Radio, Film and Television (SAPPRFT) to China’s major broadcasting firms, asking them to ban South Korean celebrities from making appearances on television entertainment shows starting next month, The Korea Herald reports.

The request was preceded by a series of sudden cancellations of appearances by Korean stars in China; a Chinese fan meeting with Korean stars Kim Woo Bin and Bae Suzy was “abruptly postponed” earlier this week. The popular Korean actor Lee Jun-ki will not be able to attend the opening of his most recent movie in China due to “visa issues”, and scheduled PRC concerts by Korean bands such as Snuper and Wassup have also been canceled by Chinese organizers for “no specific reason”.

[rp4wp]

The apparent crackdown on China’s “Korean wave” comes after Beijing’s vehement opposition to South Korea’s THAAD (Terminal High-Altitude Area Defense) deployment. Last July, South Korea and the US announced their final decision to deploy the THAAD system in the south against North Korea’s missile and nuclear threats. The plan has angered Chinese leaders, who see the system as a possible security threat to the PRC.

The opposition to THAAD has now spilled over into popular culture, and South Korean businesses fear it might further influence their trade relations to China.

The huge controversy over the K-Swiss commercial comes at a moment when China-South Korea relations are strained over THAAD. Fragments of the commercial on YouTube from January 2016 suggest that this commercial has been around for at least 7 months, which makes the timing for Chinese state media to put forward news about this ‘recent’ commercial more questionable.

The commercial has nevertheless fuelled anti-Korean sentiments, as Chinese netizens claim to be “furious”, taking the representation of the man called ‘Great Wall’ in the ad video as the way South-Koreans perceive Chinese. “It is not that we want to curse you Koreans, but you disrespect us and look down on China. Your commercial might say ‘Great Wall’, but it is actually directed against all of China. Even I don’t always think China is that harmonious, but when it comes to foreign countries, we need to be patriotic!”, one netizen writes.

While Weibo is overflowing with anti-Korean and China-loving comments, actor Park Bo Gum is quickly losing followers on his official Weibo account, where his latest fan post received thousands of angry comments over the past two days. “I always liked you so much,” one disappointed fan writes: “I never expected this from you.”

What’s on Weibo video blog about the recent controversy on the Korean K-Swiss commercial: discrimination of China?

– By Manya Koetse

©2016 Whatsonweibo. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce our content without permission – you can contact us at info@whatsonweibo.com.

Manya is the founder and editor-in-chief of What's on Weibo, offering independent analysis of social trends, online media, and digital culture in China for over a decade. Subscribe to gain access to content, including the Weibo Watch newsletter, which provides deeper insights into the China trends that matter. More about Manya at manyakoetse.com or follow on X.

Continue Reading
1 Comment

1 Comment

  1. justsomeguy69

    November 16, 2016 at 2:46 am

    LOL whiney chiney. Grow up, all of you. No one on the planet likes you, loud, rude, no manners at all, disgusting, spitting, shitting in public, destorying property including millenia-old monuments, committing fraud all day every day. When kids do not play well with others, they are excluded. What do you think the world will do with you? Permanently put you away. All of you

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

China Arts & Entertainment

How K-pop Fans and the 13-Year-Old Daughter of Baidu VP Sparked a Debate on Online Privacy

What began as K-pop fan outrage targeting a snarky commenter quickly escalated into a Baidu-linked scandal and a broader conversation about data privacy on Chinese social media.

Ruixin Zhang

Published

on

For an ordinary person with just a few followers, a Weibo account can sometimes be like a refuge from real life—almost like a private space on a public platform—where, along with millions of others, they can express dissatisfaction about daily annoyances or vent frustration about personal life situations.

But over recent years, even the most ordinary social media users could become victims of “opening the box” (开盒 kāihé)—the Chinese internet term for doxxing, meaning the deliberate leaking of personal information to expose or harass someone online.

 
A K-pop Fan-Led Online Witch Hunt
 

On March 12, a Chinese social media account focusing on K-pop content, Yuanqi Taopu Xuanshou (@元气桃浦选手), posted about Jang Wonyoung, a popular member of the Korean girl group IVE. As the South Korean singer and model attended Paris Fashion Week and then flew back the same day, the account suggested she was on a “crazy schedule.”

In the comment section, one female Weibo user nicknamed “Charihe” replied:

💬 “It’s a 12-hour flight and it’s not like she’s flying the plane herself. Isn’t sleeping in business class considered resting? Who says she can’t rest? What are you actually talking about by calling this a ‘crazy schedule’..

Although the comment may have come across as a bit snarky, it was generally lighthearted and harmless. Yet unexpectedly, it brought disaster upon her.

That very evening, the woman nicknamed Charihe was bombarded with direct messages filled with insults from fans of Jang Wonyoung and IVE.

Ironically, Charihe’s profile showed she was anything but a hater of the pop star—her Weibo page included multiple posts praising Wonyoung’s beauty and charm. But that context was ignored by overzealous fans, who combed through her social media accounts looking for other posts to criticize, framing her as a terrible person.

After discovering through Charihe’s account that she was pregnant, Jang Wonyoung’s fans escalated their attacks by targeting her unborn child with insults.

The harassment did not stop there. Around midnight, fans doxxed Charihe, exposing her personal information, workplace, and the contact details of her family and friends. Her friends were flooded with messages, and some were even targeted at their workplaces.

Then, they tracked down Charihe’s husband’s WeChat account, sent him screenshots of her posts, and encouraged him to “physically punish” her.

The extremity of the online harassment finally drew backlash from netizens, who expressed concern for this ordinary pregnant woman’s situation:

💬 “Her entire life was exposed to people she never wanted to know about.”

💬 “Suffering this kind of attack during pregnancy is truly an undeserved disaster.

Despite condemnation of the hate, some extreme self-proclaimed “fans” remained relentless in the online witch hunt against Charihe.

 
Baidu Takes a Hit After VP’s 13-Year-Old Daughter Is Exposed
 

One female fan, nicknamed “YourEyes” (@你的眼眸是世界上最小的湖泊), soon started doxxing commenters who had defended her. The speed and efficiency of these attacks left many stunned at just how easy it apparently is to trace social media users and doxx them.

Digging into old Weibo posts from the “YourEyes” account, people found she had repeatedly doxxed people on social media since last year, using various alt accounts.

She had previously also shared information claiming to study in Canada and boasted about her father’s monthly salary of 220,000 RMB (approx. $30.3K), along with a photo of a confirmation document.

Piecing together the clues, online sleuths finally identified her as the daughter of Xie Guangjun (谢广军), Vice President of Baidu.

From an online hate campaign against an innocent, snarky commenter, the case then became a headline in Chinese state media, and even made international headlines, after it was confirmed that the user “YourEyes”—who had been so quick to dig up others’ personal details—was in fact the 13-year-old daughter of Xie Guangjun, vice president at one of China’s biggest tech giants.

On March 17, Xie Guangjun posted the following apology to his WeChat Moments:

💬 “Recently, my 13-year-old daughter got into an online dispute. Losing control of her emotions, she published other people’s private information from overseas social platforms onto her own account. This led to her own personal information also getting exposed, triggering widespread negative discussion.

As her father, I failed to detect the problem in time and failed to guide her in how to properly handle the situation. I did not teach her the importance of respecting and protecting the privacy of others and of herself, for which I feel deep regret.

In response to this incident, I have communicated with my daughter and sternly criticized her actions. I hereby sincerely apologize to all friends affected.

As a minor, my daughter’s emotional and cognitive maturity is still developing. In a moment of impulsiveness, she made a wrong decision that hurt others and, at the same time, found herself caught in a storm of controversy that has subjected her to pressure and distress far beyond her age.

Here, I respectfully ask everyone to stop spreading related content and to give her the opportunity to correct her mistakes and grow.

Once again, I extend my apologies, and I sincerely thank everyone for your understanding and kindness.

The public response to Xie’s apology has been largely negative. Many criticized the fact that it was posted privately on WeChat Moments rather than shared on a public platform like Weibo. Some dismissed the statement as an attempt to pacify Baidu shareholders and colleagues rather than take real accountability.

Netizens also pointed out that the apology avoided addressing the core issue of doxxing. Concerns were raised about whether Xie’s position at Baidu—and potential access to sensitive information—may have helped his daughter acquire the data she used to doxx others.

Adding fuel to the speculation were past conversations allegedly involving one of @YourEyes’ alt accounts. In one exchange, when asked “Who are you doxxing next?” she replied, “My parents provided the info,” with a friend adding, “The Baidu database can doxx your entire family.”

Following an internal investigation, Baidu’s head of security, Chen Yang (陈洋), stated on the company’s internal forum that Xie Guangjun’s daughter did not obtain data from Baidu but from “overseas sources.”

However, this clarification did little to reassure the public—and Baidu’s reputation has taken a hit. The company has faced prior scandals, most notably a the 2016 controversy over profiting from misleading medical advertisements.

 
Online Vulnerability
 

Beyond Baidu’s involvement, the incident reignited wider concerns about online privacy in China. “Even if it didn’t come from Baidu,” one user wrote, “the fact that a 13-year-old can access such personal information about strangers is terrifying.”

Using the hashtag “Reporter buys own confidential data” (#记者买到了自己的秘密#), Chinese media outlet Southern Metropolis Daily (@南方都市报) recently reported that China’s gray market for personal data has grown significantly. For just 300 RMB ($41), their journalist was able to purchase their own household registration data.

Further investigation uncovered underground networks that claim to cooperate with police, offering a “70-30 profit split” on data transactions.

These illegal data practices are not just connected to doxxing but also to widespread online fraud.

In response, some netizens have begun sharing guides on how to protect oneself from doxxing. For example, they recommend people disable phone number search on apps like WeChat and Alipay, hide their real name in settings, and avoid adding strangers, especially if they are active in fan communities.

Amid the chaos, K-pop fan wars continue to rage online. But some voices—such as influencer Jingzai (@一个特别虚荣的人)—have pointed out that the real issue isn’t fandom, but the deeper problem of data security.

💬 “You should question Baidu, question the telecom giants, question the government, and only then, fight over which fan group started this.

As for ‘Charihe,’ whose comment sparked it all—her account is now gone. Her username has become a hashtag. For some, it’s still a target for online abuse. For others, it is a reminder of just how vulnerable every user is in a world where digital privacy is far from guaranteed.

By Ruixin Zhang

Independently covering digital China for over a decade. Like what we do? Support us and get the story behind the hashtag by subscribing:

edited for clarity by Manya Koetse

Spotted a mistake or want to add something? Please let us know in comments below or email us. First-time commenters, please be patient – we will have to manually approve your comment before it appears.

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

Continue Reading

China Memes & Viral

How Ne Zha 2’s Shen Gongbao Became Known as the Ultimate “Small-Town Swot”

Manya Koetse

Published

on

PART OF THIS TEXT COMES FROM THE WEIBO WATCH PREMIUM NEWSLETTER

 

Over the past few weeks, the Chinese blockbuster Ne Zha 2 has been trending on Weibo every single day. The movie, loosely based on Chinese mythology and the Chinese canonical novel Investiture of the Gods (封神演义), has triggered all kinds of memes and discussions on Chinese social media (read more here and here).

One of the most beloved characters is the leopard demon Shen Gongbao (申公豹). While Shen Gongbao was a more typical villain in the first film, the narrative of Ne Zha 2 adds more nuance and complexity to his character. By exploring his struggles, the film makes him more relatable and sympathetic.

In the movie, Shen is portrayed as a sometimes sinister and tragic villain with humorous and likeable traits. He has a stutter, and a deep desire to earn recognition. Unlike many celestial figures in the film, Shen Gongbao was not born into privilege and never became immortal. As a demon who ascended to the divine court, he remains at the lower rungs of the hierarchy in Chinese mythology. He is a hardworking overachiever who perhaps turned into a villain due to being treated unfairly.

Many viewers resonate with him because, despite his diligence, he will never be like the gods and immortals around him. Many Chinese netizens suggest that Shen Gongbao represents the experience of many “small-town swots” (xiǎozhèn zuòtíjiā 小镇做题家) in China.

“Small-town swot” is a buzzword that has appeared on Chinese social media over the past few years. According to Baike, it first popped up on a Douban forum dedicated to discussing the struggles of students from China’s top universities. Although the term has been part of social media language since 2020, it has recently come back into the spotlight due to Shen Gongbao.

“Small-town swot” refers to students from rural areas and small towns in China who put in immense effort to secure a place at a top university and move to bigger cities. While they may excel academically, even ranking as top scorers, they often find they lack the same social advantages, connections, and networking opportunities as their urban peers.

The idea that they remain at a disadvantage despite working so hard leads to frustration and anxiety—it seems they will never truly escape their background. In a way, it reflects a deeper aspect of China’s rural-urban divide.

Some people on Weibo, like Chinese documentary director and blogger Bianren Guowei (@汴人郭威), try to translate Shen Gongbao’s legendary narrative to a modern Chinese immigrant situation, and imagine that in today’s China, he’d be the guy who trusts in his hard work and intelligence to get into a prestigious school, pass the TOEFL, obtain a green card, and then work in Silicon Valley or on Wall Street. Meanwhile, as a filial son and good brother, he’d save up his “celestial pills” (US dollars) to send home to his family.

Another popular blogger (@痴史) wrote:

I just finished watching Ne Zha and my wife asked me, why do so many people sympathize with Shen Gongbao? I said, I’ll give you an example to make you understand. Shen Gongbao spent years painstakingly accumulating just six immortal pills (xiāndān 仙丹), while the celestial beings could have 9,000 in their hand just like that.

It’s like saving up money from scatch for years just to buy a gold bracelet, only to realize that the trash bins of the rich people are made of gold, and even the wires in their homes are made of gold. It’s like working tirelessly for years to save up 60,000 yuan ($8230), while someone else can effortlessly pull out 90 million ($12.3 million).In the Heavenly Palace, a single meal costs more than an ordinary person’s lifetime earnings.

Shen Gongbao seems to be his father’s pride, he’s a role model to his little brother, and he’s the hope of his entire village. Yet, despite all his diligence and effort, in the celestial realm, he’s nothing more than a marginal figure. Shen Gongbao is not a villain, he is just the epitome of all of us ordinary people. It is because he represents the state of most of us normal people, that he receives so much empathy.

In the end, in the eyes of many, Shen Gongbao is the ultimate small-town swot. As a result, he has temporarily become China’s most beloved villain.

By Manya Koetse, with contributions by Wendy Huang

Spotted a mistake or want to add something? Please let us know in comments below or email us. Please note that your comment below will need to be manually approved if you’re a first-time poster here.

©2025 Whatsonweibo. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce our content without permission – you can contact us at info@whatsonweibo.com

Continue Reading

Subscribe

What’s on Weibo is run by Manya Koetse (@manyapan), offering independent analysis of social trends in China for over a decade. Subscribe to gain access to all content and get the Weibo Watch newsletter.

Manya Koetse's Profile Picture

Get in touch

Would you like to become a contributor, or do you have any tips or suggestions? Get in touch here!

Popular Reads