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An Unfortunate Misunderstanding

Manya Koetse

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Dear Reader,


On the evening of October 1st, National Day and the start of a week-long holiday, Nanchang was celebrating with a spectacular fireworks/drone show, drawing an enormous crowd of people (see video).

But the fireworks weren’t the only thing drawing attention. One man on Nanchang’s crowded Shimao Road caught bystanders’ eyes.

He was shirtless, strongly built with a visible tattoo, and was waving a pointed object while loudly shouting something that sounded like, “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!”

At first, the people around him seemed unsure of what to do, keeping their distance and too afraid to approach. A large crowd formed but stayed back.

Then, a brave young man in red rushed forward and snatched the pointed object from his hand, while another young man leapt in with a flying kick that knocked him to the ground.

Several others then joined in, working together to restrain the man, as onlookers surrounded the scene and held him there until police arrived and took him to the station.

Soon, videos of the incident spread online (see here), and rumors quickly surfaced that the man had been trying to attack people with a knife.

But that all turned out to be one major misunderstanding.

The next day, local police clarified what had actually happened, followed by an explanation from the man himself.

The man in question, a 31-year-old local second-hand car dealer named Li, had come to see the fireworks together with his family, including his sisters and three nephews.

Because of the very hot weather, he had taken off his shirt and was cooling himself with a 10-yuan folding fan he had just bought along the way.

After the show, while walking back, Li realized one of his nephews was missing and searched for him, calling out in his local dialect: “Where’s my kid? Where’s my kid?” (“我崽尼 我崽尼” wǒ zǎi ní).

Bystanders misheard this as “我宰你 我宰你” (wǒ zǎi nǐ, wǒ zǎi nǐ, “I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you”) and mistook his folding fan for a machete.

Meanwhile, Li couldn’t understand why people around him were avoiding him and keeping their distance while he was searching for his nephew (see that moment here, also see more footage here). People were watching him, and recording the scene from a distance.

Before Li realized what was happening, the fan was snatched from his hands and he was violently kicked. A crowd swarmed him, beat him, and pushed him to the ground.

The police then came and detained him, and it wasn’t until the early hours of October 2, after thorough questioning, that he was finally released.

“I’m still confused about it,” Li said the next day. Holding the fan up to the camera, he asked: “Can a fan like this really scare people? I don’t understand — I just got beaten for nothing.”

Mr Li in his video, showing the fan he bought for 10RMB/$1.4 at the Nanchang fireworks.

Some commenters remarked that out of the 1.2 million people who were out in Nanchang that night, he was the only one injured.

Li seems to be doing ok apart from a sore backside and a puzzled mind, and his nephew apparently is also safe and well.

The bizarre misunderstanding has sparked widespread banter online, with people now referring to Li as “Nanchang Brother Fan” (南昌扇子哥).

“I’m dying of laughter. It’s both tragic and hilarious,” one Douyin user wrote, while others simply called the situation “so drama” (抓马 zhuāmǎ): “I’m not supposed to laugh, but I can’t help it.”

Some also noted that they understood why people at the scene mistook Li for a criminal: “At night, a guy with tattoos, holding a long stick-like object, shouting loudly all the way, what would you think?”

All joking aside, the public’s response on such a crowded night — when so many people gathered together, potentially making a tempting target for those with bad intentions — shows a heightened sense of vigilance. Unlike the U.S., where gun violence is more common, shootings are rare in China. But random stabbings have increasingly made headlines.

For Nanchang in particular, a stabbing incident that shocked the nation had taken place only weeks earlier: a 19-year-old woman was attacked and stabbed more than ten times by a 23-year-old man she did not know, and later died from her injuries.

But there have also been other recent cases, from Wuhan to Leiyang. And in 2024 especially, a spate of stabbing incidents shocked the country. In Wuxi, Jiangsu Province, a mass stabbing left eight people dead and 17 others injured.

Some commenters indicate that the positive takeaway from this entire mix-up is that the quick action of the crowd (despite their wrong assessment of the situation) shows that people weren’t afraid to step in for the sake of public safety.

But others claim the exact opposite is true. Illustrator and commentator ‘Wu Zhiru’ (吴之如), former editor at Zhenjiang Daily, saw the incident as an example of toxic herd mentality. He posted an illustration of a fan being held up with the characters 清风徐来 (qīng fēng xú lái, “a cool breeze slowly blows”), an idiom to describe a pleasant atmosphere. A finger from the right points at the fan-holder, saying “Look, he’s gonna commit violence!” (“哇,他要行凶啦!”)

Wu Zhiru warns against panic-driven mob mentality and wonders why the first man, who snatched the “knife” from Li’s hands, did not stop the crowd from attacking Li as soon as he discovered that he had snatched away a fan and not a blade. Drawing historical parallels to the Cultural Revolution, Wu argues that people are sometimes so set on doing the “heroic” thing that they hesitate to correct misunderstandings once better information is available — a mindset that can lead to serious, harmful consequences.

For Li himself, despite the unfortunate night he had, the situation has actually brought him some unexpected fame and extra attention for his second-hand car dealership, which undoubtedly makes his boss happy (in a very recent livestream, Li was praised for being kind and loyal).

Many netizens also argued that the real lesson to draw from this ordeal is the importance of speaking proper standard Chinese. Some even framed the incident as “The Importance of Mandarin” (论普通话的重要性), pointing out that the whole problem began because Li was misunderstood while speaking dialect.

Image posted on Weibo in support of the “fan-waving brother.” The character on the fan says “tolerate.”

Others joked that the misunderstanding was just a grave injustice to shirtless men everywhere, writing: “From now on, the world has one less sincere guy who goes shirtless in the streets. He’ll never be the same again.”

Best,

Manya

PS Many thanks to Ruixin Zhang and Miranda Barnes for their contributions to the contents of this edition.

PS2 For Dutch speakers — Belgium’s Flemish public broadcaster VRT has released a new podcast this week about how China is reinventing its global image, shifting from the world’s factory to a source of cultural “cool.” I spoke with Veerle De Vos for this production, which you can listen to here: “Van TikTok tot Labubu: hoe China aan een ‘cool’ imago werkt.”

PS3 With Substack becoming increasingly popular, I know some readers prefer following content there. What’s on Weibo — through its main site and the Weibo Watch newsletter — will always remain the central hub, home to over twelve years of archives and analysis. But for those who prefer Substack’s format, I’ve started mirroring our recent content there as a ‘companion feed.’ If you would rather read via Substack, just let me know — I can help you make the switch without paying twice.

PS4 In case you missed it, I sent out a newsletter earlier this week as well in which I explained the hype surrounding Chicken Chop Bro and some trends of this National Day holiday. Find it here.

PS5 Sorry for all the PSs.


What’s Featured

A deeper dive behind the hashtag



The Dark Side of Blossoms | Whenever reports surfaced about the harsh conditions on the set of productions by renowned director Wong Kar-wai, mainstream media and fans often brushed off his tyrannical habits as the quirks of a genius. This time, it feels different. After Wong Kar-wai was accused of exploiting a young writer during the production of the hit TV drama Blossoms Shanghai, a scandal unfolded that may be one of the biggest stories in China’s entertainment industry this year.


What to Know

What’s trending right now


Japan’s First Female Prime Minister? | Sanae Takaichi (高市早苗), Japan’s former Minister of State for Economic Security, has become the first female president in the history of the ruling Liberal Democratic Party (LDP). Although not yet confirmed, she is likely to be appointed as Japan’s prime minister—and the nation’s first-ever female leader—following a parliamentary vote that has not yet been officially scheduled but is anticipated around October 15.

On Chinese social media, Takaichi’s recent victory and her path to becoming Japan’s next leader have sparked widespread discussion, with many focusing on how this political shift could affect Sino-Japanese relations.

Overall, Chinese commentators characterize Takaichi as a far-right politician who denies or downplays the historical facts of the Nanjing Massacre, as well as Japan’s comfort women, and as someone who consistently beautifies Japan’s wartime aggression. She is known for visiting Yasukuni Shrine, the Tokyo shrine that honors Japan’s war dead, including those who committed war crimes in China. She also claimed that Japan’s aggression following the Manchurian Incident (Sep 18, 1931), which led to the outbreak of the Second Sino-Japanese War, was an act of “self-defense.”

Besides her highly controversial views on Japan’s wartime past, Takaichi’s stance toward Taiwan has also become a major topic of discussion. She has consistently voiced strong support for Taiwan, and under her leadership, Taiwan and Japan are expected to further strengthen their bilateral ties.

For these reasons, most Chinese commentators view Takaichi as “anti-China,” and see her rise to power as a potential setback for Sino-Japanese relations. Most of the trending discussions surrounding her recent victory focus on the controversies linked to her past statements. We’ll keep an eye on this as Japan’s political situation continues to unfold.


What’s Popular

The latest obsession on China’s internet


Black Myth with a Side of French Fries | Timed just before the start of the Mid-Autumn Festival, McDonald’s China has launched a collab campaign with China’s blockbuster video game Black Myth: Wukong (黑神话:悟空), which became a global sensation after its 2024 release.

The McDonalds Black Myth collab features special menu items, exclusive merchandise and game-themed pop-up experiences that are perfect for social media photo moments. The highlight of the campaign is the limited-edition board game gift set (#麦当劳黑神话联名桌游#), available for purchase from September 30 for 68 RMB (US$9.5) with any meal.

Although some online commenters said the themed meals simply tasted “terrible,” and others called for a boycott over various concerns — including the perceived overcommercialization of Chinese mythology — the campaign appears to be a success, driven largely by its collectible appeal. Many parents and fans also felt that the board game and other merchandise offered good value for money.

Overall, the collaboration stands out as another example of how global brands are increasingly tapping into Chinese entertainment IPs and traditional mythology. KFC, for instance, has simultaneously launched a collab with the hugely popular film Ne Zha 2, which is seen as a smart counter-strategy.


Weibo Word of the Week

Viral Chinese vocabulary


Loofah Soup for the Soul | The word of the week is a meme that has been trending for a while now: “Loofah Soup” or “Sponge Gourd Soup” 丝瓜汤 sīguā tāng.

The meme finds its origins in one of the family skit videos of Douyin content creator Lei Zi (累子, “tired son”), where he plays a mother who keeps insisting that her adult son drink loofah gourd vegetable soup, as it supposedly will “reduce liver fire.” In Traditional Chinese Medicine, loofah is known for its cooling properties and ability to resolve toxicity.

Leizi’s loofah soup family skits, in which he plays both the mom and the son.

The family dynamic of a Chinese mom ignoring her son’s emotions and frustrations while focusing on traditional wellness advice feels highly relatable to many young people. Though well-intentioned, many parents tend to sidestep emotional issues and inadvertently invalidate their children’s feelings by turning every conversation into a “this is good for your health” lecture.

The meme, which has come to represent a generational communication divide, has now evolved into a world of its own — the “Siguatang Universe” (丝瓜宇宙) — filled with spin-offs and self-deprecating jokes. The running ironic theme: apparently, there’s no problem a bowl of loofah gourd soup can’t fix.


This is an on-site version of the Weibo Watch newsletter by What’s on Weibo. Missed the last newsletter? Find it here. If you are already subscribed to What’s on Weibo but are not yet receiving this newsletter in your inbox, please contact us directly to let us know. No longer wish to receive these newsletters? You can unsubscribe at any time while remaining a premium member.

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.

China Insight

“Even Pigs Have AC”: The European Heatwave Through Chinese Eyes

As Europe struggles through record heat, Chinese social media is turning the story into something much bigger than the weather. Plus: the graduation speech everyone is talking about & more.

Manya Koetse

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🔥 China Trend Watch (week 26/27 | 2026) Part of Eye on Digital China, this is my premium newsletter where I explain the stories, memes, debates, and viral moments shaping online conversations in China. This edition was sent to paid subscribers — subscribe to receive the next issue in your inbox.


 

Here’s your weekly update on what’s been trending. In case you missed it, earlier this week I published a deep dive into the CITIC Tower plane crash and how its immediate aftermath was handled online. In this newsletter: Louis Vuitton’s victory in a noteworthy trademark case against a Chinese tea brand; how and why the European heatwave has become a major topic in China; a controversial gaming character; and an inspiring must-know phrase of the week.

 


 

🗞️ QUICK SCROLLS

 

🍉 Don’t buy precut watermelons. During these hot days, watermelons are a popular snack, but this stern warning went viral: avoid pre-cut watermelons sold by roadside vendors, as they’re a potential health hazard due to improper refrigeration and cross-contamination from cutting surfaces and knives —you have no idea what else they’ve been used for 😬.

🇯🇵 China blames Japan for ties hitting a new low. During a July 1st press briefing, China’s Foreign Ministry said Sino-Japanese relations are facing “severe difficulties,” blaming Tokyo’s stance on Taiwan and security issues. The remarks come amid renewed tensions, including Japan’s announcement that multiple Chinese naval vessels had transited waters near the country and the reported formal arrest of a Japanese citizen detained in Dalian.

🌾 No messing around with China’s heroes. A Chinese agricultural influencer with over 2 million followers has been permanently banned from Douyin after posting negative remarks about the hybrid rice breeding technology developed by the late Yuan Longping (袁隆平), China’s national hero and “Father of Hybrid Rice,” widely praised for his role in combating poverty and hunger.

🛎️ The 24-hour checkout as a new hotel standard? Check in at 3 pm, check out at 3 pm the next day—that’s the idea behind a viral checkout policy introduced by the Chinese hotel chain Qinzhu Hotel (沁住酒店). The policy breaks with the long-standing industry practice of requiring guests to check out before noon. Instead, checkout is calculated from the guest’s actual check-in time, allowing them to stay for a full 24 hours before checking out. The policy is generating discussions, with many wondering if this could point towards changing policies in the broader industry.

🎖️ The Party turns 105. July 1 marked the 105th founding anniversary of the Communist Party, an occasion heavily promoted across Chinese social media as eight Party members received the “July 1 Medal” (七一勋章), the Party’s highest honor. Among them was Henan village Party secretary Li Liancheng (李连成), who transformed a poor village into a model of rural development. July 1 also marks 29 years since Hong Kong’s return to Chinese sovereignty in 1997.

📅 Interesting fact: July 1 is not the Communist Party’s actual founding date. The 1st National Congress opened in Shanghai on July 23, 1921. The Party settled on July 1 as its anniversary in 1938 only because the Yan’an-based delegates who had attended the congress, including Mao Zedong and Dong Biwu, could remember that it had taken place in July, but not the exact day (and wartime conditions made archival verification difficult).

🌸 Whose flower is it anyway? The French luxury house Louis Vuitton won a first-instance trademark infringement case against the new Chinese tea chain Molly Tea (茉莉奶白) this week. The Chinese brand was sued over the four-petal flower symbol in its logo, similar to LV’s core floral element. But many netizens disagree with the judge’s decision, arguing that the flower can be traced to the iconic Baoxianghua (宝相花) motif that flourished during the Tang Dynasty (618-907).


 

👁️ WHAT STOOD OUT

 

Nationalism, Soft Power, and the European Heatwave in China

AI-generated images posted on Chinese social media showing Europeans suffering in the heat while Chinese pigs are relaxing with cool units (left) and Chinese manufacturers selling out (right).

The high temperatures in Europe have become a hot topic in China, where the heatwave across France, Belgium, Germany, and other countries has been one of the biggest international stories of the past two weeks, with China cast in a particularly prominent role.

In China, the European heatwave, with temperatures reaching 40–45°C and causing deaths across several countries, is discussed from various angles and is also used to make broader geopolitical, economic, and ideological points about Europe and China-EU relations. These are the three dominant ways in which the heatwave is currently being discussed on Chinese social media:

 
🌡️ 1. “China Is Keeping Europe Cool”: European Heat Through the Lens of Chinese Soft Power and Anti-”De-Risking” Narratives

Chinese state media have framed the European heatwave by emphasizing the role of Chinese-made air conditioners. In countries such as Spain, Germany, and France, air-conditioner sales have nearly doubled compared to last year, with Chinese manufacturers such as Haier and Midea reporting sales increases of up to 70% while ramping up production to meet demand.

A main narrative is that China is helping Europe by meeting demand at a critical time. A similar narrative emerged during the 2022 energy crisis, when Chinese media emphasized how made-in-China products, from blankets to heaters, were keeping Europeans warm.

As a recent Xinhua commentary argued, the current shortage demonstrates that Chinese manufacturers are filling a gap where European companies are falling short. While Europe increasingly frames China-EU trade in terms of “de-risking,” the article argues that Chinese manufacturing actually provides resilience during times of crisis and should therefore be seen as an asset rather than a risk.

 
🌡️ 2. “Even Pigs Have Air Conditioning in China”: Schadenfreude and Nationalism

The heatwave story and the fact that most European homes do not have air conditioning have also been met with ridicule and disbelief on Chinese social media, where one recurring joke is that while Europeans are suffering through extreme heat, even pigs have air conditioning in China.

The story partly originated on Chinese social media but was also fueled by posts on X. Around June 24, one tweet showing Chinese pigsties equipped with air conditioners received thousands of likes.

Chinese netizens also had plenty of banter over other X posts in which Europeans proudly showed off their newly purchased air conditioners, as though they had just discovered a new technology. For many Chinese commenters, it is simply unimaginable that air conditioning is still considered a luxury in much of Europe.

A local Hai’er account on Xiaohongshu joked:

💬 “Europeans spend hundreds of euros on an AC and still have to check the regulations; we spend a few thousand yuan (…) and enjoy wrapping ourselves in a quilt while eating watermelon in the middle of summer.”

A recurring theme in these discussions is that China once admired Western technology and modernity, whereas today the roles seem reversed. Now, some commenters say, Europeans are marveling at Chinese-made air conditioners. As one Weibo wrote: “It’s like our ancestors when they first saw cars.”

 
🌡️ 3. Europe Is Putting Climate Policy Ahead of Ordinary People: Criticism of EU Governance

Another dominant theme is the idea that Europe has become hypocritical—or excessively “politically correct”—in its environmental policies. Many commenters argue that the low prevalence of air conditioning in European homes is partly the result of regulators’ longstanding skepticism toward air conditioning on environmental grounds.

This has fueled the narrative, amplified by Chinese media this month, that Europeans are now suffering and even dying during heatwaves because green ideology has stigmatized air conditioning.

At the same time, many users mock what they see as the EU’s willingness to criticize other countries over greenhouse gas emissions while failing to protect its own citizens from extreme heat.

One AI-generated meme showed crying polar bears, monkeys, and penguins alongside the slogan:”Save nature! Save the animals! Oppose Europe installing air conditioning—this is a betrayal of Mother Nature.” One of the meme’s posters wrote on Weibo:

💬 “Europeans have been preaching the gospel of environmentalism (环保圣经). Now, it’s finally coming back to bite them.”

Another depicted Ursula von der Leyen relaxing beneath a powerful Midea air conditioner, comfortably enjoying the very equipment that her policies supposedly discourage.

All in all, for some, the debate over air conditioning is about something much bigger. The lack of air conditioning in many European countries—along with the regulations, infrastructure constraints, and electricity costs surrounding it—has become symbolic of a broader reassessment of Europe. For some Chinese netizens, it challenges the long-held idea that life in Europe is necessarily better or more idyllic than life in China.

One netizen even advised fellow Chinese against emigrating to Europe:

💬 “Over the next five to ten years, I think people in China will become much more clear-eyed, and many existing illusions about Europe will gradually disappear.”


 

📱ON THE FEEDS

 

No More Werewolves in the Love and Deepspace House

The Chinese mobile game Love and Deepspace (恋与深空) has been all over the feeds, with some Weibo discussions garnering nearly half a billion views after the game was hit by controversy.

The game, developed by Papergames, is a so-called otome game — a story-based romance video game aimed primarily at women. Recently, a new male character lead was introduced: Ao Yin (敖尹, English name: Valk0), introduced as a werewolf, who breaks into the home of a woman living alone as part of a romantic scenario, after which he says: “What’s wrong with inviting the wolf into the house?” (引狼入室有什么不好) — a line critics say romanticizes non-consensual home intrusion.

What also sparked outrage was a reference to an “A-0731” file number tied to an in-game human drug-trial dossier. Players connected “0731” to Unit 731, the biological and chemical weapons program operated by the Japanese Army in China during the Second Sino-Japanese War/WWII.

The developers apologized, and for now, Ao Yin is canceled entirely — no more werewolves coming in the house.


 

🀄 ONLINE PHRASE OF THE WEEK

 

“Move forward firmly amid the noise”

在众声喧哗中坚定前行 (zài zhòngshēng xuānhuá zhōng jiāndìng qiánxíng)

An unusual speech by a Peking University professor made waves over the past week. Cheng Lesong (程乐松), chair of Peking University’s Department of Philosophy, delivered a graduation speech on June 26 that sparked widespread discussion for breaking away from the usual clichés and generic commencement themes.

In the speech, Cheng captured the cultural mood and social pressures facing China’s younger generations today: a society where everything—from career choices to a cup of milk tea—needs to be meaningful, yet increasingly feels meaningless; and where everyone is expected to succeed while increasingly feeling like they’re falling short.

“The anticipatory anxiety about the ruthlessness of social competition leads us to plunge into an overwhelming fear of failure,” Cheng said. “Because we expect constant affirmation, we come to interpret every ordinary day as proof that our lives have failed. We become absorbed in the hope that one day we will ‘begin our real lives,’ forgetting that we are already living them.”

Life was never meant to be meticulously ordered, Cheng argues, and needs room for a certain amount of chaos and twists and turns that no one saw coming. A completely disordered life is unimaginable, but so too is a life of perfect precision. How we go through life depends on how we deal with it, how we understand ourselves, and how we learn to allow life to unfold.

The true mission in our lives, the lifelong task that philosophy presents to us according to Cheng, is therefore to carve out a unique spiritual path for ourselves, and “to move forward steadily amid the cacophony of many voices.”

That message has struck a chord among netizens, with some saying they replayed the speech over and over again because they felt Cheng was really talking about the predicament facing young people today.


That’s a wrap. Have a good week, and keep your head cool.

If you find these newsletters useful, please be sure to like them, and share them if you want. I only started out Eye on Digital China on Substack late last year and could use some help in making sure the right audiences – like you – find my work.

Best,

Manya


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. If you’re already subscribed and want to switch platforms, just get in touch for help. If you no longer wish to receive these newsletters, or are receiving duplicate editions, you can unsubscribe at any time.

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Chapter Dive

China’s CITIC Tower Crash: The Story That Never Trended

How information surrounding the CITIC Tower crash was managed, from a five-day media blackout to a sixth-day official narrative.

Manya Koetse

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🔎 Originally published in Eye on Digital China.
My premium newsletter covering the stories, memes, debates, and viral moments shaping online conversations in China. Subscribe here to receive future editions.

 

The story that never went trending was undoubtedly the biggest story of the week. On June 26, an incident at the Beijing landmark CITIC Tower (aka China Zun 中国尊) in the Chaoyang central business district sparked disbelief online. At 5:55 pm local time, a small plane, a Sunward SA60L Aurora, crashed into the tower, after which wreckage from the small aircraft fell to the street below (video).

For those who immediately responded to the incident on social media, it seemed unimaginable that this had happened in the capital. Beijing is one of the most heavily defended airspace zones in China. Since May of this year, recreational drones are also banned in Beijing, with outdoor flights requiring prior approval from authorities.

 


 

A small plane hit CITIC Tower??? How could something like this happen? What happened to the air defense capabilities in our core restricted zone???“ one Weibo commenter wrote on Friday night.

After videos and images of the incident spread, online discussions were swiftly and thoroughly censored. That same day, while media outlets around the world began reporting on the crash, it did not appear among the top 50 trending topics on Chinese platforms—in fact, it wasn’t reported anywhere at all. As related keywords and hashtags were taken offline, it quickly became clear that this was the “6.26 Incident That Shall Not Be Mentioned.”

Even the next day, when Chaoyang authorities issued a brief official notice, republished by state media, the name of the tower was never mentioned, just that “a single-engine, two-seat light sport aircraft collided with a high-rise building during flight,” and that an investigation was underway. The one person on board, the pilot, died in the crash. Thirteen others were injured.

 

 

Later, flight tracking data revealed that the aircraft had taken off from Shifosi Airport, northeast of Beijing, and had come close to a Hainan Airlines passenger jet, forcing at least two commercial flights to abort their landings.

For the five days following the incident, little to no official information was available on the highly unusual incident. Meanwhile, Chinese authorities reportedly ordered a nationwide suspension of most general aviation activities, including recreational flying.

 

Why the CITIC Tower Incident Triggered an Information Blackout

 

But why has the censorship surrounding this incident been so intense, leading online censors to scrub all footage and discussion of it from the internet?

This has to do with the nature of the incident.

It is not uncommon for major incidents to be heavily censored, especially when the details surrounding them are still unfolding. But this kind of information “blackout” generally occurs only when incidents are considered particularly sensitive, and the regular toolkits used to manage and control information are no longer deemed sufficient.

Some examples include:

▪️The 2011 Wenzhou Train Crash, which happened at a time when the prestige and reliability of China’s high-speed rail system was celebrated as a flagship national project.

▪️The 2013 Tiananmen SUV ‘Suicide Attack’, which happened in a tightly guarded, already politically sensitive public space and the symbolic heart of the state.

▪️The 2022 Anti-Party Protest Banner at Sitong Bridge, which happened just before the opening of the 20th Party Congress that confirmed Xi Jinping’s unprecedented third term.

▪️The 2024 Beishan Park Stabbings of American Tourists, which happened just as China’s inbound tourism was beginning to recover in the post-COVID era and “China is safe” narratives were playing an increasingly important role in official messaging.

All of these incidents are different in nature, but what they have in common is not just that they are examples of bad news being suppressed, but that they reflect a specific pattern in which news that is bad for the Party-state is suppressed. In their own ways, these incidents—and the discussions and speculation surrounding them—challenge one or more foundational narratives about the competence of China’s leadership, its modernization, its security, its stability, and its capacity to maintain social order.

📌 The 6.26 CITIC Tower incident is particularly sensitive because it touches on several of these core narratives. It immediately opened the door to a flood of politically sensitive questions: How could this happen in the capital? Were the authorities really in control? Were the security systems adequate? Was it a deliberate attack? This all directly contradicts the logic of “Safe China” (平安中国), a grand strategy for governance in the Xi era that seeks to project an image of a closely monitored society in which risks are anticipated and prevented through the integration of efficient public security, surveillance, and Party leadership (see Trevaskes & Lin 2024)1. A small aircraft striking Beijing’s tallest building—located in one of the country’s most tightly controlled airspaces—challenges precisely this claimed capacity to maintain order, guarantee security, and keep China safe.

📌 Another reason why incidents like the 6.26 one are censored so heavily is that they have the potential to snowball or even trigger copycat behavior. What begins as an isolated accident can quickly evolve into broader discussions about political dissatisfaction, which might spiral into social unrest – and protecting domestic stability is central to the Party-state’s legitimacy and maintenance of power.

📌 A third factor is the symbolic significance of the location. Unlike an ordinary office building, the CITIC Tower is a symbol of Beijing’s cosmopolitan skyline and of China’s economic rise and state-led modernization. Situated in the heart of the capital’s central business district, next to CCTV headquarters and visible across much of the city, it is one of Beijing’s most recognizable landmarks. An incident involving such a building inevitably carries far greater symbolic weight than one occurring in a less prominent location.

⮕ Taken together, these factors make the 6.26 incident unusually sensitive in political, social, and symbolic terms. It is not just a random aviation accident; it touches upon national security, state competence, political control, social stability, and the protection of one of the country’s most symbolic urban spaces. Rather than threatening a single Party narrative, as some of the other aforementioned incidents did, it threatens several at once. This helps explain why it was treated not as an ordinary censored event, but as one requiring an almost complete information blackout.

 

A Familiar Censorship Playbook

 

Although these top-censored news incidents are all unique, they follow a similar whack-a-mole-style playbook in suppressing discussion of these events, even though they had only just happened.2

The main playbook is always more or less the same: Sensitive incident occurs News disappears from front pages and trending search lists Popular videos and images are taken offline Incident-specific keywords and hashtags are scrubbed Censorship expands to generic category-level terms (such as “Beijing,” “Chaoyang District,” or “small plane”) that could lead users back to the incident) State media remain silent while shifting attention to other news.

(This week, the distraction might have been an otherwise arguably uninteresting controversy involving Chinese singer Han Hong.)3

Offline, the same pattern often plays out through physical scene control: bystanders are asked to delete their footage, journalists are kept away from the scene, or even entire street signs are removed (as happened after the protests on Wulumiqi Road and following the Sitong Bridge protest).

Meanwhile, selected commentary from permitted voices is sometimes allowed to appear online—for example, from former Global Times editor Hu Xijin—although even those posts are not immune from later deletion, as happened following the Beishan Park stabbings. This is often the first step in shaping the official narrative.

A brief authoritative news report may then be released, often ending with a statement that “the incident is under investigation,” which also buys time. Sometimes, however, no meaningful official explanation ever follows. After the 2022 China Eastern MU5735 crash, for example, authorities never released a full public investigation report, even though reports emerging in 2026 claimed the crash, which killed all 132 people on board, was deliberate.

Nevertheless, an official narrative and investigation outcome do usually follow. The 2013 Tiananmen attack, for example, was officially labeled a premeditated terrorist attack orchestrated by the East Turkestan Islamic Movement (ETIM), with Chinese authorities presenting it as evidence that Xinjiang-linked militancy had become part of a broader international terrorist threat. In doing so, the incident was reframed from a local security failure into part of a global fight against terrorism.

Finally, arrests often follow, and people are held accountable. At the same time, those accused of “spreading rumors” online may also face consequences, while foreign media are often criticized for biased reporting or double standards. These counterattacks further reinforce the official narrative while simultaneously shifting attention away from the original incident.

 

How AI Chatbots Are Part of the Censorship Ecosystem

 

For the 6.26 incident, the main narrative for the first five days after it happened was that nothing really happened. Even Hu Xijin posted nothing about the incident.

On Weibo, the hashtag “The Story Behind the CITIC Tower Crash Incident” (#中信集团大厦被撞事件始末#) was taken offline, along with many others.

Five days after the crash, Weibo’s Qwen-3 chatbot (powered by Alibaba) claimed it knew nothing about any incident involving CITIC Tower.

The Weibo chatbot responds to a question about the CITIC Tower incident, saying it knows nothing (July 1st).

Six days after the incident, on July 2nd, DeepSeek’s chatbot went a step further. Rather than simply claiming no information was available, it described reports about the crash as fake news, stating that there were no official records or media coverage and that such rumors originated on “overseas social media platforms.” Kimi refused to answer questions about the incident altogether, while Baidu’s ERNIE Bot said it had no information about the incident and warned users not to believe or spread unverified rumors.

[caption id="attachment_76508" align="aligncenter" width="484"] DeepSeek responded to what happened at CITIC Tower, claiming it’s “fake news” (July 2nd)

The 6.26 CITIC Tower incident illustrates a broader development in China’s online information ecosystem. A great deal has changed since the 2011 Wenzhou train crash. Social media control has become far more sophisticated—not only through better automated filtering, but also through platform regulation, agenda-setting, distraction strategies, and increasingly coordinated narrative management.

Now, AI chatbots have become part of that ecosystem.

Integrated AI assistants (LLM-powered chatbots embedded in platforms such as Weibo, Douyin, and other Chinese apps since 2025) are not merely additional tools subject to censorship. They have become an integral part of the online information environment and increasingly play a role in the handling of sensitive incidents.

Unlike Grok on X, these AI assistants are deeply integrated into the user experience and actively encourage people to ask questions, search for information, and receive summaries of ongoing events and controversies. What makes them particularly powerful from the perspective of propaganda and information control is that they can centralize official narratives at the platform level. Previously, that role was distributed across state media, government accounts, and other official actors.

Because these chatbots do not present themselves as state media or government authorities, they can appear more neutral and objective. Users may perceive them simply as AI-generated summaries with less media bias and greater factual accuracy.4 In the case of the 6.26 incident, they effectively conveyed a state-ordered message to social media users: that really, nothing happened, and that if something happened, it must be fake news.

 

“A Public Security Incident Caused by Personal Factors”

 

On July 2nd, Beijing Chaoyang’s verified official account issued a second short statement via its WeChat channel. This time, providing more details about what had happened on June 26.

According to the statement, the pilot was 66-year-old Mr. Liu (刘), a Beijing resident who was self-employed and lived alone. He obtained a sport pilot license in 2021 and a private pilot license in 2024.

Authorities said Liu deliberately deviated from his flight route, subsequently lost contact with the airport, and then intentionally crashed into the building, killing himself. They added that he had suffered from depression in recent years and that his diary contained multiple references to wanting to “end his life.” The incident was officially described as “a public security incident caused by personal factors” (个人原因造成的危害公共安全案件).

The second, July 2nd, statement.

It is noteworthy that such a short statement includes details about the pilot’s age, marital status, pilot licenses, mental health, and even diary entries, yet provides virtually no information about the building itself, the security response, or the broader circumstances of the incident. The statement never mentions the CITIC Tower by name, referring only to “a high-rise building near the East Third Ring Road.” It likewise omits any mention of the aircraft entering restricted airspace, the reported disruption to commercial air traffic, or the obvious questions the incident raises about security failures.

On Weibo, the statement was widely shared, but comment sections beneath those posts remained either hidden or only contained a selection of replies.

And so, six days after the incident, there is a slight opening in the media blackout—just enough to establish the official narrative. This framing reduces a wide range of sensitive questions to the story of one troubled individual. It is not about broader questions of public safety or governance, but about a lonely man’s suicide; it is not about the Party-state, but about personal circumstances; it minimizes a news event that received maximum attention and turns a possible mass attack into an isolated incident. And so the message subtly shifts from “nothing happened” to “it’s time to move on.” The playbook is complete. It’s almost as if nothing really happened.

 

By Manya Koetse

With contributions by Miranda Barnes


  1. See: Susan Trevaskes and Delia Lin, “Integrating Stability Maintenance into Comprehensive Governance: The Burgeoning ‘Safe China’ Behemoth,” Modern China 50, no. 6 (2024): 671–701. https://doi.org/10.1177/00977004241254709.
  2. Some might say the 2015 Tianjin explosions also belong here, but that disaster was so large and witnessed by so many people that, while the official narrative was tightly controlled, it did not receive the same near-total information blackout.
  3. This controversy involved Han Hong (韩红), a popular Chinese singer and philanthropist, who recently urged Beijing audiences in the local dialect to show up at the box office for the underperforming latest Feng Xiaogang film Catch the Spy (《抓特务》), for which she is the music producer. She used the colloquial expression zǒu ge miànr (走个面儿, roughly “show your face”), and was accused of inappropriately putting moral pressure on people to buy tickets, which also led to criticism of her charity work. She made the remarks at a June 17 premiere, and it didn’t become a dominant story until eleven days later.
  4. See also: Yan Li, “The Impact of Automated Journalism on Media Bias, Accuracy, and Public Trust: Evidence from Young Chinese News Consumers,” Humanities and Social Sciences Communications 13 (2026): 688. https://doi.org/10.1057/s41599-026-06612-6.

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