SubscribeLog in
Connect with us

The Many Layers Behind the “Sister Hong Incident”

Manya Koetse

Published

on

Dear Reader,


A 60-year-old man from Nanjing became the biggest trending topic on Weibo recently after news circulated that he had cross-dressed as a woman, lured 1691 men into having sex with him, recorded the encounters, and then spread the videos online. It was suggested that he had exposed the men to HIV and infected at least eleven of them.

That particular story turned out to be inaccurate, but the real story behind the sensationalism was strange enough to pique the interest of countless netizens.

The actual case involves a much younger man: the 38-year-old Mr. Jiao who pretended to be a woman and arranged to hook up with many men, secretly recording the encounters and uploading the footage online.

Mr Jiao and screenshots of some of their videos.

The story first began circulating online in early July. It went viral across multiple Chinese social media platforms after local police arrested the man and publicly announced the case (likely also due to the rapid spread of sensationalized rumors).

This is what the police report of July 8 said:



Police notification


Recently, Jiangning police received reports from members of the public stating that their private videos had been disseminated online by others. Jiangning police immediately launched an investigation and, on July 5, arrested the suspect Jiao (焦) X.

Upon investigation, it was found that Jiao X. (male, 38 years old, person from outside the province) impersonated a woman, arranged to engage in sexual activities with multiple men, and secretly filmed the encounters to disseminate the videos online.

The widely spread online rumor that “a 60-year-old man in Nanjing dressed as a woman and had intimate relations with over a thousand people” is false.

On July 6, Jiao X. was criminally detained by Jiangning police in accordance with the law on suspicion of the crime of disseminating obscene materials. The case is currently under further investigation.

Jiangning Branch of the Nanjing Public Security Bureau
July 8, 2025


By now, the case has come to be known as the “Nanjing Old Guy Hong Incident” (南京红老头事件).

In Chinese, “Hong” (红) means “red,” which is not only a color but also carries connotations of celebrity or notoriety in this context.

Jiao initially used the online nickname Ah Hong (阿红). This nickname soon evolved into “Nanjing Sister Hong” (南京红姐), but was later changed by netizens to “Nanjing Old Guy Hong” (南京红老头) after some argued it was inappropriate to refer to Jiao as a woman. Official media posts calling Jiao “Sister” received hundreds of angry reactions, with people demanding an end to the use of the female title.

Jiao had reportedly posed as a woman for a long time, using various social platforms—from WeChat and QQ to Momo—to find men to hook up with.

He wore women’s clothing, a long wig, used heavy white make-up, and also relied on beauty filters and voice-changing tools to appear and sound more feminine to the men he met online.

Since Jiao didn’t charge any money for these encounters, some of the men apparently thought it polite to bring gifts. Leaked footage shows visitors arriving at his apartment with small offerings—from fruit and milk to half-full bottles of cooking oil.

Caption: “I’m dying of laughter — someone even brought half a jug of cooking oil from home. There were people bringing milk, fruits, even a pack of tissues — but the funniest thing is someone actually brought half a jug of cooking oil from their own kitchen! Hahaha. Tomorrow morning, when his wife cooks, she’s definitely going to wonder where the oil went.”

Jiao had secretly set up a hidden camera in the rooms to capture the sexual encounters, and later spread these online through online groups where participants had to pay a membership fee of 150 yuan (US$21) per person to join the group.

Some of Jiao’s victims reported him to the police after discovering that videos of their encounters were being circulated online—allegedly after they were recognized by others. By now, several men have been identified by people who know them, and one woman reportedly recognized her own husband in one of the videos.

The exact number of men Jiao met and secretly filmed remains unknown. While authorities have dismissed the viral claim of over 1600 men as exaggerated (a number reportedly mentioned by Jiao himself), they have not released an official count, and the investigation is still ongoing.

The videos have since spread widely online, showing Jiao engaging in various forms of sexual activity with different male partners. While it’s unclear how many of the men initially believed he was a woman, it seems highly likely—if not inevitable—that many realized the truth at some point during the encounters.

Social media discussions around the case now touch on a range of issues, from privacy violations to gender identity and public health concerns.

 
🏛️ Legal Implications: From Violating Privacy to Endangering Public Health
 

First, the legal aspects of the case are drawing significant attention, with various lawyers and legal experts weighing in on what crimes Jiao may have committed. For now, he is under criminal detention for disseminating obscene materials—the production, distribution, and sale of sexually explicit content is illegal under Chinese law.

But Jiao also violated the privacy and portrait rights of others by sharing explicit videos that clearly show their faces without consent.

And what if Jiao is indeed HIV-positive and knowingly engaged in unprotected sex?

According to Legal Daily (法治日报), he could then be charged with “endangering public safety through dangerous means” (“以危险方法危害公共安全罪”).

This offense carries a sentence of 3 to 10 years in prison if no serious harm occurs, but if it results in severe injury, death, or major damage, it could lead to life imprisonment or even the death penalty.

On the morning of July 8, a local CDC official confirmed that health authorities were now involved in the case. While Jiao’s health status is considered private, officials said they’ll share updates if and when it’s appropriate.

 
💥 Social Shock: Public Health and “Hole-Sexuals”
 

There has also been significant social shock over the story. The footage that’s been circulating online shows dozens of different men visiting Jiao — from student types and businessmen to men from all walks of life, including fitness trainers, married men, college athletes, and also young foreign men.

Many netizens expressed that the story changed the way they view the people around them. The men visiting Jiao were not some ‘basket of deplorables’ — they included wealthy older men, young and attractive guys, educated tech professionals. That realization unsettled many, shaking their worldview on multiple levels.

Although this triggered many jokes, it also raised uncomfortable questions not just about how little people may know their friends, neighbors, or even romantic partners—but also about public health. If Jiao did pose an HIV risk, it means these men—many of whom are married or have families—may have unknowingly brought that risk home with them after these unprotected encounters arranged online.

Chinese commentators and bloggers therefore tied the case to women’s sexual health, suggesting that a significant number of gynecological infections among married women are actually caused by their own husbands.

There were multiple online posts suggesting that the entire story reflected the sexual repression experienced by many Chinese men. Jiao, as a man himself, may have understood male psychology well — and was simply giving these men the emotional and physical attention they were lacking at a time when their sexual needs were not being met.

Some argued that such situations are a byproduct of the crackdown on KTV bars and massage parlors, hinting at the shrinking space for illegal prostitution in mainland China.

“Sometimes it really feels like heterosexuality is a joke,” blogger Chen Shishi (@陈折折) wrote: “These men are so filthy, and yet they go back and pretend to be good boyfriends, good husbands, good fathers, good men.”

She added: “As long as there’s a hole, they’re in.”

In doing so, Chen used the term 洞性恋 (dòngxìngliàn), a satirical play on the Chinese word for “homosexual” (同性恋, tóngxìngliàn, literally “same-sex love”).

By replacing the first character 同 (“same”) with 洞 (meaning “hole”), the term becomes “hole-sexual” instead of “homosexual,” mocking those men who sought out Jiao without caring what “she” looked like — or even whether she was secretly a man — as long as there was a “hole” to satisfy them. Recently, 洞性恋 (dòngxìngliàn) has been used a lot by Chinese netizens commenting on this case.

 
🛑 Politically Sensitive: Controlling the Narrative
 

Apart from the criminal charges Jiao may face, this story inevitably has some deeper layers that are politically sensitive and are therefore flattened and rewritten into safer territories.

Chinese well-known blogger Lu Shihan (@卢诗翰) recently commented on this issue on Weibo and Zhihu, critiquing how Chinese media and public discourse have framed this story. According to Lu, the narrative was intentionally shifted away from any discussion of a possibly trans, marginalized sex worker.

Lu suggests that censorship, social discomfort, and political sensitivity around class struggles and LGBTQ+ issues force both media and the public to stick to the safest possible framing.

That “safe narrative” is a comical and odd case about a ridiculous old man in a wig, crossdressing for his own fetish pleasure and spreading obscenity, scamming straight men into a sex scandal.

Acknowledging that many of the men may have known (or didn’t care) that “Nanjing Sister Hong” was biologically male would turn the incident into a conversation about queer identity and sexuality. And as Lu points out, that’s a no-go zone.

In his commentary on the issue, Lu Shihan mentions the story of another “Sister Hong” (红姐), an older street sex worker who became well-known in Shenzhen’s Sanhe district and even gained some online fame at a national level.

“Sanhe Sister Hong” came from a mountainous village and ran away as a teenager to work in the city. After being abused and abandoned, she fell into homelessness and eventually turned to sex work to survive in Sanhe, a place known for its lower-class young (post-1990) male day laborers who hop from job to job, self-precariously calling themselves the “great gods of Sanhe” (三和大神).

In this environment, Sister Hong stood out not just as a sex worker but also as a vagabond woman, and she has almost reached cult-like status for some—she’s now known as the legendary Sister Hong.

Sanhe Sister Hong.

“Nanjing Sister Hong” ultimately got that nickname because of the “Sanhe Sister Hong.”

Lu argues that around China, from Nanjing to Shenzhen to Guangdong, there are many “Sister Hongs,” and their vulnerable position, marginalization, and methods of income have to do with much deeper issues about gender and class struggles that go beyond some clueless straight men who just happen to stumble into their bedrooms.

On Chinese Q&A site Zhihu, some commenters are convinced that Jiao’s ‘customers’ were very well aware that he was not a woman — but that it is common to see men dressing up as women for a certain group of closeted men who feel more at ease in ambiguous, feminized encounters that don’t directly confront their own sexual identities. Also, for them, people like Sister Hong feel like safer territory.

 
🎭 Cultural Fascination: The Story of Shi Peipu
 

At the heart of this story also lies a deeper cultural fascination: the image of a male figure assuming a female persona to seduce other men — and the taboo topics that come with it. Cross-dressing has a long history in China, from traditional opera to contemporary media.

Some netizens — somewhat jokingly — compared “Sister Hong” (Jiao) to the case of Shi Peipu (时佩璞), a story that inspired the award-winning play M. Butterfly (1988) by David Hwang.

Shi Peipu (1938–2009) was a male Chinese opera singer who pretended to be a biological woman for over two decades. Shi Peipu worked for the Chinese secret service and was involved in what has been called one of the “strangest cases in international espionage.”

Shi Peipu

Shi Peipu was originally from Kunming and moved to Beijing in the 1960s. The then 26-year-old Shi met the French diplomat Bernard Bouriscot (布尔西, 1944) at a Christmas party in 1964, where Shi came dressed as a man.

Shi told Bouriscot that he was actually a female opera singer who had been forced by his father to present himself as a man because he desired a son so much. Bouriscot believed it, and their love affair took off — a romance that also continued when Bouriscot was stationed abroad.

For a period of twenty years, Shi pretended to be a woman during this ‘love relationship’ in order to gather intelligence information from Bouriscot.

Shi went to extreme measures to keep the Frenchman close to him, as ‘she’ even convinced Bouriscot that she had become pregnant with his child in 1965, just before the two would be apart for a long time. Shi adopted a boy from Xinjiang and presented him as their alleged child, which Bouriscot apparently believed.

Bouriscot and his son, who was actually adopted and not biologically his.

In 1982, Shi and Bouriscot moved to Paris, where they were both arrested a year later — Shi’s secret allegedly finally came to light when the CIA informed the French government that secret information from the French Embassy in China had leaked during the 1970s.

Even when the police burst into their home to arrest them, the Frenchman allegedly still believed Peipu was his wife and the mother of his child. It took a medical report for him to realize the truth.

Bouriscot attempted suicide when he discovered that Shi was actually a man. He was convicted of espionage — news that made it to the front pages in France — and both men were sentenced to six years in prison (although both got out earlier).

Front page of France Soir after Bouriscot and Shi Peipu were arrested on June 30, 1983, and later convicted.

Shi, who did not plead guilty to being a spy, passed away in Paris in 2009. About the affair, Bouriscot later said: “When I believed it, it was a beautiful story.

Shi Peipu’s story has become one of those famous stories that is still discussed online and pops up every now and then — such as in the discussions talking about “Sister Hong.” Because the story is so bizarre, it is mostly discussed in certain frameworks that hardly challenge dominant ideas about gender and sexuality.

📌 So what’s the takeaway in the “Sister Hong” case? On the surface, it serves as a cautionary tale about meeting strangers online and the potential nightmare of seeing yourself butt-naked on the internet.

But more deeply, the reason this case shook the Chinese internet is because it points to something much larger. It touches on issues that usually remain hidden beneath the surface. It reveals vulnerability on all sides.

The vulnerability of people like “Nanjing Sister Hong” — whether cross-dressing or identifying as transgender, they are operating outside the gender binary. As research by scholars like Eileen Yuk-ha Tsang shows, individuals in this position often face intense social stigma, family rejection, discrimination, severe depression, and abuse by intimate partners (many of whom present as heterosexual men). While none of this excuses Jiao’s actions — secretly recording hundreds of men and exposing their faces and literal private parts online — it does shed light on some of the dynamics that may have pushed him into the internet’s darkest corners.

There’s also the vulnerability of the men who were filmed — now watching their lives collapse as their identities are exposed to the public.

And then there’s the vulnerability of the wives and partners at home, not only discovering their partners’ infidelity in the most public way possible, but also having to face the emotional and physical consequences it may carry for their own lives and health.

For now, the “Nanjing Sister Hong” case is already among the most-discussed topics on Chinese social media this year. It has become the source of countless memes and AI-generated parodies. The story got so big that people are now joking even Trump was one of his secret visitors (see AI meme).

There are even memes about the “Sister Hong starter kit” and others mocking the man who brought half a bottle of cooking oil.

Some joked that “Sister Hong” bears an uncanny resemblance to well-known Chinese political commentator Hu Xijin.

These jokes probably won’t help anyone much, but they’re an inevitable product of China’s meme machine. Still, they shine a bit of light on a topic of which many sides will inevitably remain in the dark for a long time to come.

Scroll down for more highlights of what’s been trending and noteworthy lately. (This is a long newsletter, so make sure to click through to read the full edition — including the controversy over a Chinese student expelled for a fling with a Ukrainian esports player.) A special thanks to Miranda Barnes for helping put together this edition.

I’m happy to see more requests coming in for group subscriptions. Are you reading What’s on Weibo at work? Group subscriptions are available at a discount for 10, 15, or 20 people. Let the person in charge of media or publication subscriptions know that subscribing to What’s on Weibo is a smart move for making sense of what’s trending in China (and that this is a 100% independent, reader-supported platform!) 🚀

Thanks, as always, for reading and for your support. And if there’s a topic you want to know more about, or something you think I should include—don’t hesitate to reach out.

Best,

Manya

PS I mentioned Eileen Yuk-ha Tsang here as one of the scholars focusing on Chinese transgender sex workers. Coincidentally, her new book Unlocking the Red Closet: Gay Male Sex Workers in China is coming out on July 29.


What’s Trending

Popular Topics at a Glance


Another major story that’s been trending involves a 31-year-old captain from Jilin working for China Southern Airlines, who reportedly stabbed two of his colleagues after a work-related dispute before jumping to his death from a high-rise building in Changchun in early July. His colleagues survived the attack.

This latest tragedy has sparked renewed discussion about the intense pressure faced by commercial pilots in China. Many pilots are locked into rigid, high-penalty contracts that make it financially difficult to leave their position at the company while struggling to go up in rank. Even when demoted or given fewer flight hours, they may feel unable to walk away—conditions that can severely impact mental health.

The 31-year-old captain from Jilin, named Li Xing, reportedly spiraled after failing a competency evaluation that disqualified him from flying. Some netizens remarked on the irony of how strict standards intended to guarantee flight safety may, in fact, also put more pressure on pilots and become risk factors that trigger accidents.

The incident, together with the recent Air India Flight 171 crash, has stirred public memory of the China Eastern Airlines MU5735 crash three years ago—an investigation that never reached an official conclusion, though many believe it was also a case of pilot suicide.

China’s Wahaha Group (娃哈哈集团) is once again in the spotlight this week — and not for good reasons. The head of the company, one of the largest food and beverage producers in China, is currently being sued by her presumed siblings over the enormous inheritance of their late father.

Wahaha has long been a beloved brand in China. When founder and chairman Zong Qinghou (宗庆后) passed away in March last year, many people showed their sympathy for the brand — and for Zong, who was seen as a patriotic and humble businessman — by buying Wahaha mineral water.

But since the company was taken over by Zong’s daughter, Zong Fuli (宗馥莉), things haven’t been running quite the same. Public sentiment has already been shifting, especially earlier this year when netizens discovered that the Wahaha water they purchased was actually produced by the cheaper brand Jinmailang (今麦郎).

The ongoing inheritance scandal is further damaging Wahaha’s public image — particularly because it involves Zong Qinghou’s three alleged illegitimate children, all of whom hold U.S. citizenship.

Last year, Wahaha was praised by netizens for being a patriotic brand, while its main competitor, Nongfu Spring, was accused of being unpatriotic — partly because its CEO’s son, Zhong Shuzi (钟墅子), also holds an American passport. That sparked online debate about corporate loyalty to China.

Now that it turns out Zong Qinghou has not one but three children in the U.S., together with former Wahaha senior executive Du Jianying (杜建英), public perception of both the brand and Zong’s legacy is starting to shift.

At the same time, this case offers a fascinating glimpse into the inner dynamics of one of China’s most iconic companies — and it’s definitely a topic that Chinese netizens will be closely following for some time to come (and so will we).

“Hot hot hot hot hot hot hot week ahead” (#未一周热热热热热热热#), was the hashtag pushed by Chinese state media this week, as large parts of the country brace for temperatures above 35°C (95°F) in the days to come.

In regions stretching from Shaanxi to Guizhou, highs are expected to reach 37–39°C (98.6–102.2°F), with some areas soaring past 40°C (104°F). Already, nine provinces and regions—including Xinjiang, Shanxi, Hubei, Hunan, Sichuan, Chongqing, Anhui, Jiangsu, and Jiangxi—have reported nighttime lows above 30°C (86°F).

The heatwave in Xinjiang has drawn particular attention online, with daytime temperatures in places like Turpan consistently exceeding 40°C (104°F).


What’s Noteworthy

Small news with big impact


This week, you also need to know the story of 21-year-old Chinese student Li, who was expelled by Dalian Polytechnic University (大连工业大学) for sleeping with Ukrainian e-sports player Danylo Teslenko—known online as ‘Zeus‘ —on the grounds of “harming national dignity.” The case has triggered a massive online debate, with people weighing in from all sides.

The 37-year-old Ukrainian man had shared some intimate footage of their encounter online—content that showed the two in a hotel room, clearly fond of each other, though not sexually explicit. Li, reportedly a fan, had allegedly flown to Shanghai to meet him during his “Asia tour” in December 2024.

The footage soon went viral on Douyin and beyond, leading to Li being doxxed and harassed. She was criticized for allegedly cheating on her boyfriend and for sleeping with a foreigner. Zeus eventually deleted the video once he realized the seriousness of the backlash.

Although the incident took place months ago, it only hit the top of trending lists this week—after the university’s decision to expel her became public. On July 8, the school posted the expulsion notice on its website, naming Li in full and claiming she had already been informed of their decision back in April 2025.

But for what, exactly? That’s the question at the heart of the controversy. People have combed through school regulations, and it’s still unclear which specific rule Li actually broke by having an intimate relationship with a foreigner.

“Huh? Being sexually open can be a reason for expulsion now? And the video wasn’t even uploaded by the girl herself,” one commenter wrote.

Many believe this case is about gender dynamics—and that a male student wouldn’t have faced the same consequences for sleeping with a foreign woman.

Although there are some who condemned Li for bringing shame upon her school and country, the majority view her as a victim on multiple levels. Zeus should never have posted private footage online. The university had no cause to expel or publicly shame her, and online harassment from netizens was unjustified.

Somewhat unexpectedly, prominent Chinese commentator Hu Xijin (胡锡进) has spoken out in her defense, arguing that it was Zeus who embarrassed Ukraine by uploading intimate footage—not Li who brought disgrace to China. He also questioned whether expelling a young woman and pushing her out into society was a proportionate or fair decision.

Li still has time to appeal the university’s decision—but whether she will remains unclear.


What’s On

Handpicked China events for our readers


In the last newsletter, I announced our new events page that keeps track of upcoming, insightful China events happening around the world. The page highlights talks, panels, and lectures covering everything from China’s (digital) culture and society to history, language, and broader geopolitical insights — with a particular focus on events that are accessible virtually.

Some events to look out for this month:

  • July 24 (Livestreamed): “Chinese Views of the Indo-Pacific Strategy Part of the GIGA China Series, this session examines how Chinese policy experts perceive the Indo-Pacific concept — often seen as a strategy to contain China. While some analysts stress fears of a unified anti-China alliance, others point to strategic diversity among Indo-Pacific actors. Speakers Jérôme Doyon and Mathieu Duchâtel explore how China might respond, from shaping regional narratives to employing wedge strategies. Link.
  • July 29 (livestreamed) “Shifting Currents: U.S.–China Economic Policy in Transition”
    Hosted by Asia Society Northern California, this event gathers academic and policy experts to discuss recent shifts in U.S. economic policy and their implications for China. The panel will explore trade, geopolitics, and the evolving dynamics of the bilateral relationship.. Link.
  • July 29/30 (depending on your timezone) (Livestreamed): “US-China Relations and the Chinese American Experience”
    Organized by the California Alumni Association Chinese Chapter, this talk features Professor Harvey Dong (UC Berkeley) and traces the influence of two centuries of US–China relations on Chinese American communities. From the Opium Wars to the Cold War and beyond, this session offers a timely perspective on diplomacy, migration, and racialization. Link.

Another event that is not livestreamed but taking place at the CHSA Museum in San Francisco on July 26 is a talk by author Laureen D. Hom about The Power of Chinatown. This is the title of her most recent book, in which she explores the tensions between economic development and cultural preservation. Through stories from residents, activists, and business owners, Hom zooms in on L.A.’s Chinatown as a contested site of cultural identity, political struggle, and urban development. Link.

Since this list is manually curated, please do send in any events you think suit the list and interests of What’s on Weibo readers.


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.

Featured

Quick Eye: XChat, Orbán, and a Very Questionable Tripe-Strawberry Hotpot

A 2-minute overview of trending topics on Chinese social media, including XChat, Orbán’s defeat, and that tripe-strawberry hotpot.

Manya Koetse

Published

on

🔥 Quick Eye: What’s Trending in China in 2 Minutes (April 14 | week 16 | 2026) Part of Eye on Digital China by Manya Koetse, this is a quick catch-up on what’s trending and being discussed on Chinese social media right now. Subscribe here to receive the next issue in your inbox.

 

The Big Stories

 

📌 Evergrande trial China’s fallen property giant Evergrande, once the world’s most indebted developer, and its founder Xu Jiayin (许家印) are at the center of a much-anticipated public trial in Shenzhen on April 13-14. Xu pleaded guilty to charges including fundraising fraud, illegal deposit-taking, and corporate bribery. A verdict will be announced at a later date.

📌 Lululemon investigated over “forever chemicals” American brand Lululemon is under investigation in Texas over the potential use of PFAS chemicals in its athletic apparel, which have been linked to health risks such as cancer and fertility issues. Chinese netizens and media are closely following this story: mainland China is Lululemon’s second-largest market.

📌 Diplomatic line-up in Beijing While Spanish Prime Minister Sánchez is still in Beijing, UAE Crown Prince of Abu Dhabi Khaled also arrived in China on Tuesday. Vietnamese President Tô Lâm is meeting Xi Jinping, while Russia’s foreign minister Sergey Lavrov has also arrived, and the President of Mozambique is expected later this week. Chinese newspaper Yangcheng Evening News described it as “foreign leaders lining up to visit China” (“外国政要排队访华”). The framing presents world leaders as turning to China in a turbulent time, amid tensions around Iran and the Strait of Hormuz, and declining trust in the US.

The Quick Eye

 

👁

XChat, Musk’s “Western WeChat” opens pre-registration in mainland China app store
[#“西方微信”XChat官宣上线时间#] [#马斯克版微信17日在苹果上线#]

Musk has long said he wanted X to become a WeChat-like “super app,” and now he’s finally launching XChat, already dubbed the “Western version of WeChat” (西方微信) in China. The app is set to launch on April 17 on the Apple App Store, with pre-registration available to users in mainland China. It features end-to-end encryption, no phone number requirement, no advertising, anti-screenshot and disappearing-message functions, and integrated Grok AI.

Zhihu discussions note that while XChat’s “pre-order” function is visible to Chinese iOS users, the app will likely remain inaccessible. Beyond China’s stringent platform regulations, XChat requires an X account to log in, meaning users cannot get past registration. The irony of a privacy-focused app opening pre-registration in a market where X itself is blocked has not gone unnoticed, with many commenters treating it as something of a joke.

👁

Hungary’s Orbán defeated: Chinese netizens react to pro-EU shift
[#欧尔班败选#] [##欧尔班承认败选#]

The Hungarian elections and Viktor Orbán’s defeat drew unusual attention on Chinese social media, where European politics usually aren’t a big deal. Beyond the historic loss, much of the discussion framed the outcome through a China–EU lens, especially in relation to the Russia–Ukraine war.

While state media stayed relatively neutral, some commentators emphasized that Orbán had been one of the EU’s most China-friendly leaders. Others, including Hu Xijin, pointed to more practical reasons — arguing that in the end, elections are decided by “bread and butter.”

👁

Audio recording: Shanxi judge accused of sexual harassment during divorce hearing
[#女子遭法官猥亵16分钟录音曝光#] [#山西猥亵当事人法官被停职#]

A judge at Lüliang Intermediate Court in Shanxi has come under fire after a woman accused him of molestation during her divorce proceedings. She says Judge Lü Yunsuo (吕云锁) summoned her under false pretenses and then groped, embraced, and kissed her in his office — an incident she secretly recorded on her smartwatch, capturing 16 minutes of audio.

Although she reported the case for months, no action was taken until news of the case and the recording circulated online, after which Lü was suspended. The case has sparked widespread anger, with many questioning why action was only taken after the situation drew public attention.

A Different Note

 

Tianjin University Library Q&A: Children Solve Existential Problems

A Q&A message board at Tianjin University Library (天津大学图书馆) went viral after primary school children visiting the campus answered questions left by university students. Some exchanges:

“How do you slow down growing up?”
— Child: “Enjoy the present.”

“What should I do if I’m unhappy?”
— Child: “Do something that makes you happy.”

“How can I get into Tianjin University?”
— Child: “I just came in on Open Day.”

“How do I find happiness again?”
— Child: “Watch Peppa Pig.”

“What is happiness?”
— Child: “Having an apple and thinking only about the apple.”

On My Feed

 

Bizarre Tripe & Strawberry Fusion Hotpot

Perhaps this needs a trigger warning for Sichuan foodies and hotpot purists, given the rather bizarre hotpot trend currently circulating on Chinese social media:

It’s Tripe-Strawberry Hotpot (毛肚草莓火锅), where you wrap fresh strawberries in organ meat (beef tripe 毛肚, máodǔ) — a somewhat sacred ingredient within Sichuan hotpot culture — before dipping them into spicy, simmering broth and eating them with your regular dipping sauce.

I’ve seen this pop up before, but it’s now gaining more traction—and not just as rage bait, since some people seem to genuinely enjoy it. Others, however, are shocked by how far hotpot food trends are going. One Weibo user wrote:

First, I apologize to the tripe, then to the strawberries, to the hotpot, and fourth, to myself”😅

Watch the video here.

That’s it for today — more soon!

Best, Manya

P.S. If you find this useful and aren’t a paying subscriber yet, you can support my work and receive more updates by subscribing. You can do so here.)

Continue Reading

Chapter Dive

Cancel-Proof: The Rise of China’s AI Actors

China’s AI actors are on the rise, and not everyone is buying it. The country’s microdrama industry offers a glimpse of what’s to come for the broader film and TV sector.

Ruixin Zhang

Published

on

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? In the fast-growing world of China’s AI microdramas, even virtual actors can’t escape reality. As production companies turn them into idols, audiences are voicing discomfort, while the future for human actors looks increasingly uncertain.

– By Ruixin Zhang and Manya Koetse

For Chinese audiences, AI in film and television is nothing new. In the fall of 2023, the first fully AI digital performer in a Chinese domestic drama, the character Erzhuang (二壮) in I Am Nobody (异人之下) sparked debate on Chinese social media.

Some fans, due to Erzhuang’s convincing northeastern Chinese dialect and natural expressions, almost couldn’t believe she wasn’t a real actress.

Erzhuang in I Am Nobody (异人之下) in 2023.

But Erzhuang was just the beginning.

In 2024, China Mythology (中国神话) was promoted by state media as China’s first fully AI-produced short drama series.

A year later, In My Heart, You Are One of a Kind (在我心中,你是独一无二) premiered as Hong Kong’s very first AI-generated short drama, a youth campus romance that sparked further discussion about whether AI actors could actually replace human actors.

From the two AI dramas from 2024 and 2025: China Mythology and In My Heart, You Are One of a Kind.

Those discussions were reignited in late March of this year when Shanghai-based production company Yaoke Media (耀客传媒) introduced two newly signed AI actors, Qin Lingyue (秦凌岳) and Lin Xiyan (林汐颜), who’ll be starring in the fantasy short drama Qinling (秦岭).

Qin Lingyue (秦凌岳) and Lin Xiyan (林汐颜)

Unlike earlier AI figures in microdramas, this high-profile ‘signing’ marks a shift: the company plans to develop these characters as independent IPs, much like human actors. In other words, they are to attract fans both through their on-screen performances and their off-screen ‘personalities.’

Soon after, the two AI actors created their own social media accounts on Douyin and Xiaohongshu, and began cultivating a sense of authenticity and ‘liveness’ (活人感).

A real-looking social media profile.

But as these digital performers and real actors become harder to distinguish, audience discomfort is growing, too.

 

The Rise of AI Microdramas


 

In China’s microdrama market, AI is already playing a dominant role, with “AI dramas” (AI剧 or AI短剧) standing out as a distinct creative category within the broader industry.

Microdramas, also simply known as short dramas, have been around in China for at least a decade, but have become especially popular in recent years due to their vertical, ultra-short formats, designed for quick mobile viewing and easy ‘binge watching.’ Microdramas typically run for 60 to 100 episodes, but with each episode lasting just one to three minutes, an entire season can be watched in an hour or two.

That format also makes the industry particularly well-suited to AI. It is large, fast-moving, and often operates on limited budgets, with productions turning around quickly. In this environment, using AI-generated effects and AI actors simply makes sense. This is very different from traditional drama production, which typically involves longer timelines, higher budgets, well-known actors, and less room for experimentation.

 

“AI is no longer just an add-on in China’s drama sector—it is an integral part of the production process”

 

As a result, AI is no longer just an add-on in China’s short drama sector—it is becoming an integral part of the production process, with digital actors helping to improve efficiency and reduce costs. With the launch of Bytedance’s Seedance 2.0, production costs for AI-generated videos have dropped significantly, further boosting the growth of AI microdramas.

The scale of this shift is already clear: AI microdramas are now often outpacing live-action productions on trending charts. In 2025 alone, one Zhejiang-based production company (刚刚好影视) released 229 AI micro-dramas, generating over 513 million views.

According to Sixth Tone, short dramas featuring AI actors already represented approximately 40% of the top 100 animated short dramas in January 2026.

 

Turning AI Actors into Real Idols


 

With AI and microdramas entering a kind of symbiosis, virtual actors are no longer disposable, one-off creations. They are evolving into continuous, persona-driven figures, often designed to resemble real celebrities—much like “fandom-driven actors” (流量演员), whose core function is to monetize fan attachment and sell fantasies rather than just act.

According to Yaoke Media, their plans for Qin Lingyue and Lin Xiyan are similar to those of idol models: they are expected to interact with fans, appear in multiple productions, and eventually become monetizable assets through brand endorsements and image licensing.

This also means they will likely take on the full spectrum of idol labor, including promotional events, fan service, and carefully manufactured on-screen chemistry—sometimes even “queerbaiting” (卖腐). (There’s no perfect English equivalent, but the term refers to deliberately staging romantic interactions between two male characters aimed in particular at a female “danmei” fans or “rotten girls” audiences who like indulging in such fantasies.)

In one AI costume drama, behind-the-scenes clips showed the lead actor and actress “live-streaming” together, answering fan questions, and deliberately hyping up their on-screen chemistry.

“Behind the scenes” livestream screenshots by AI actors.

Such human-coded content is now increasingly becoming an important part of the AI microdrama industry.

Some of these online videos also show the supposed perspective of “fans” and “staff” watching the actors walk around or interacting with them, creating a simulated world that some netizens feel is pushing a sense of “realness,” with comments like: “Please don’t force AI to act so human-like.”

 

“AI actors featuring in AI dramas that are watched by AI audiences, it’s the perfect closed loop”

 

For the same AI costume drama, some clips even mimic the perspective of ‘fansite admins’ (站姐)—dedicated fan photographers who typically capture and share candid, off-stage footage of real stars.

In one vlog by a supposed prop assistant, she appears as an overworked but witty crew member, taking viewers around the set, chatting with the leads, buying them coffee, and even stepping in as an extra.

“Behind the scenes” of an AI microdrama.

These glimpses of everyday, behind-the-scenes life all feel oddly real, but everything is AI-generated: the actors, the sets, the audience interactions, the staff, even the paparazzi (see example videos here and here).

For ordinary audiences, it is striking how deeply AI has already penetrated the film & television industry. Beyond criticisms of stiff expressions and rigid aesthetics, many netizens describe the new phenomenon as “uncanny” or “just too real😨.”

With AI actors now realistic enough to pass as human at a glance, but with small details like emotional expression still being off, that gap between being almost human but not quite creates a sense of discomfort among viewers, who dub these AI actors ‘stuffed monsters’ (缝合怪) or ‘stitched-together corpses’ (尸块).

More than the actors, it’s the entire ecosystem around them that makes us believe we’re watching “candid moments” of something that is not even alive. Screenwriter Wang Hailin (汪海林) was sarcastically commented on Weibo: “AI actors featuring in AI dramas that are watched by AI audiences 👍, it’s a perfect closed loop.”

 

‘Borrowing’ Facial Features


 

Besides the simulated “aliveness” of digital performers, another controversial issue surrounding the recent rise of China’s AI actors is whether these creations infringe on portrait rights. Since the debut of Qin Lingyue and Lin Xiyan, these AI figures have been criticized for appearing to use facial features from multiple real actors.

As online discussions intensify, more AI actors in microdramas have been found to resemble real celebrities. Fans of beloved Chinese celebrities such as Dilraba Dilmurat (迪丽热巴) and Xiao Zhan (肖战) have taken to Weibo to protest this kind of “face swapping” (AI换脸) and demand protection of their idols’ likenesses.

An “AI face swap” (AI换脸): an AI actor on the left, Xiao Zhan on the right.

Yaoke responded that these images were “derived from massive datasets on the internet” and did not replicate any specific individual’s features.

This only fueled further backlash. To many, the use of “massive data” suggests that anyone, celebrity or ordinary person, could potentially have their image appropriated.

 

“The vlogger discovered the face swap infringement after a friend recognized his face while watching the AI drama”

 

In related recent trending news, a Chinese content creator (白菜汉服妆造), who typically wears traditional Chinese clothing in his videos, accused Hongguo (红果短剧), ByteDance’s short drama platform, of using his likeness without authorization to create a greedy villain in the AI-generated drama Taohua Zan (桃花簪).

On the left: greedy villain in the AI-generated drama Taohua Zan. On the right: Chinese content creator (白菜汉服妆造).

The vlogger discovered the face swap infringement after a friend recognized his face while watching the drama. The series was later taken offline.

One problem is that legal frameworks around AI lag behind technological development: by the time victims try to fight back legally, the technology has already moved on, making enforcement almost impossible.

 

Better Than the Real Thing?


 

Despite the backlash against the AI-fication of China’s short drama industry, some netizens are more optimistic about its development.

One blogger recently noted that as many people have already formed near friendship-like emotional dependencies on chatbots like ChatGPT—initially seen as cold technological tools—it is entirely possible that audiences will also develop genuine attachment to AI actors.

Current limitations that still make AI actors feel stiff, such as robotic voices or unnatural expressions, will likely diminish as the technology continues to improve.

Some call binging on AI short dramas their “guilty pleasure,” just to watch the AI actors perform. As one Weibo user wrote: “The female characters are just so beautiful—seriously, unbelievably beautiful. And they’re becoming more and more realistic: their facial expressions, especially the way their mouths move, are incredibly precise. Even the makeup looks stylish, and the hair feels very real. I honestly find myself wondering what eyeshadow and mascara they’re using.”

But support for AI performers in China’s drama industry is not limited to guilty pleasures and tech enthusiasts. For some, it also reflects a broader weariness with the perceived lack of quality among human actors.

 

“If the performances of real actors are already no better than AI, why not use AI actors instead?”

 

China’s film and television industry’s strong focus on fandom culture and good-looking idols, combined with limited budgets and a lack of formal training, has produced a wave of actors who are widely criticized for poor acting and a lack of professionalism. They are also frequently caught up in controversies, from refusing to memorize lines to relying heavily on green-screen acting.

These criticisms intensified during the 2021 major scandal involving former drama actress Zheng Shuang (郑爽), who had long faced criticism over her acting. A leaked recording at the time revealed she was earning a staggering 2.08 million RMB per day (roughly $320,000 then). Since then, “2.08 million” (208万) has become a derogatory label for fandom-driven actors who get high pays despite low-quality performances.

Amid weak acting and a distorted pay structure, many viewers have been calling for change. A common sentiment is: if their performances are already no better than AI, why not use AI actors, and give real actors a sense of crisis?

 

From Cancel Culture to AI Actors


 

But will the use of AI actors actually push the industry to improve human actors, or simply replace them?

Some Chinese industry insiders remain optimistic, arguing that AI can never fully replicate the nuance of human emotion. Among those who have spoken out are A-list actors such as Zhang Ruoyun (张若昀) and Feng Yuanzheng (冯远征), president of the Beijing People’s Art Theatre.

Others, however, are less optimistic.

 

“China’s “cancel culture” will eventually make AI actors an increasingly attractive bet for industry investors”

 

Agan Jackie (阿甘Jackie), a streamer working in the film industry, pointed out in a recent podcast that China’s “cancel culture” will eventually make AI actors an increasingly attractive bet for industry investors.

Although there’s “cancel culture” in the Western entertainment industry as well, the moral bar for Chinese celebrities is exceptionally high: anything from tax evasion to littering, simply being rude to fans could destroy an actor’s commercial value. The superstar Fan Bingbing (范冰冰), for example, disappeared from public view after a tax evasion scandal. Even after repaying her debts, she is still effectively banned from mainland productions.

China’s cancel culture is also closely tied to political red lines. One remark or move – intended or not – could end a career overnight. Zhang Zhehan (张哲瀚), an actor who quickly rose to fame a few years ago, vanished from the industry after photos surfaced of him posing near the Japanese Yasukuni Shrine.

For production companies and streaming platforms, such unpredictability creates a high-investment, high-risk environment. “Scandal-proof” AI actors offer a low-risk substitute.

This perhaps also plays a major role in why major streaming platforms such as Tencent and iQiyi are now promoting or encouraging the use of AI actors through AI feature film experiments, with the first fully AI-generated commercial blockbusters expected to be released later this year.

 

A Glimpse into the Future


 

At the recent China TV Drama Production Industry Conference, it became clear that the industry is undergoing something of an earthquake, with major changes ahead: while top actors will continue to function as traffic drivers, demand for human actors is expected to decline, and much of the mid- and lower-tier acting segment (such as extras and body doubles, but also voice actors) could largely disappear as it becomes replaceable by AI.

The microdrama industry, already heavily infiltrated by AI, offers a glimpse of the future of the broader TV and film industry when it comes to digital performers.

Microdrama actress Zhou Ye (周野) recently said that her pay has been slashed by 50% since AI-driven microdramas flooded the market, leaving many more actors jobless. For the 140,000 registered extras at Hengdian World Studios, China’s largest filming base, these developments could have far-reaching consequences.

Sometimes, these actors even sign away their fate—quite literally—as some companies now require “AI authorization” clauses as a condition of employment, effectively selling their digital likeness just to get a job. Companies can then create AI actors based on real individuals. Chinese talent management company Yuxiao Media (聿潇传媒) has introduced six such AI actors, directly modeled on real performers.

 

“The microdrama industry, already heavily infiltrated by AI, offers a glimpse of the future of the broader TV and film industry when it comes to digital performers”

 

One of these, influencer Han Anran (韩安冉), openly stated during a livestream that she had sold her likeness rights for AI creation. Playing into public criticism of her acting and heavily altered appearance, she said this was the best way to monetize her image. She even wondered that if her AI doppelganger were ever to win an award, whether she or the AI should go on stage to accept it.

Han Anran (韩安冉) on the left and the AI actress modeled after her on the right.

Perhaps nobody likes to see ordinary actors’ livelihoods being taken over by AI. But despite concerns about shrinking job opportunities, China is unlikely to see Hollywood-like strikes, as it lacks unions or organizations comparable to SAG-AFTRA or the AFL-CIO, which focus on labor representation beyond awards and industry guidelines.

For now, the only collective pushback against the full “AI-fication” of the industry comes from Chinese netizens themselves: boycotting platforms and production companies using AI actors, and voting with their views. Ultimately, only when public demand for realness becomes strong enough to threaten profits—or when laws finally catch up—will there be a sense of security for the people behind the screen—the real ones.

By Ruixin Zhang, with editing and additional context by Manya Koetse

©2026 Eye on Digital China/Whatsonweibo. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce our content without permission – you can contact us at info@whatsonweibo.com.

Continue Reading

Popular Reads