The case of an employer, abusing her power to make one of her employees delete all his colleagues from WeChat, became a hot topic on Chinese social media earlier this week. As the news hit over 350 million views, few netizens worried about the employees’ deprivation of privacy and more discuss the advantages of being forced to clean up your WeChat contacts.
On November 18, the hashtag “Prior to Resignation, Employee Is Required to Delete Colleagues from WeChat” (#辞职先删同事微信#) went viral on Chinese social media, racking over 350 millions views.
On July 26, a Ping’an Life Insurance Company (平安人寿保险公司) employee, surname Wang, handed in his letter of resignation. To complete the resignation process, his employer, surname Kou, demanded he delete all the contacts of Ping’an co-workers from his WeChat. Wang complied and moved without a fuss, but not for long.
Unable to ignore his unease at the way he had been treated, Wang inquired the HR department of Ping’an on the resignation procedure, only to find that deletion of one’s co-workers’ WeChat contacts is in no way obligatory.
Feeling aggrieved at having had his privacy infringed upon, Wang repeatedly tried to get an apology from his former employer, even turning in a letter of complaint to the Sichuan Bank and Insurance Regulation Bureau (四川银保监局). However, the apology never arrived –that is, until the matter caught the attention of Chinese netizens.
Letter of complaint
Red Star News (红星新闻) was the first media outlet to obtain a statement from Kou on the incident.
Though she did not deny asking Wang to delete his contacts, she denied having forced him to do so: “He is 1.80 meters tall, and I am only a little taller than 1.50 meter. If he hadn’t agreed to cooperate, I would never have been able to force him,” observed Kou.
She went on to explain that the decision was for the benefit of the company. With competing insurance companies constantly snapping up each other’s employees, Kou believed Wang’s possible defection to one of Ping’an’s rivals would have a demoralizing effect on her team.
“Wang was employed with us for three years,” said Kou: “I brought him into this industry, taught him how to seal the deal and keep a good relationship with customers. To educate somebody in this industry is not an easy job.”
“WeChat “friends” are anything but friends.“
Fortunately for Kou, many netizens construed the incident as a disguised cure for a perpetual problem all WeChat users face – WeChat “friends” that are anything but friends.
“If your relationship with a colleague is good, add him back. If the relationship is not good, then don’t. It will only clean up your phone,” one netizen commented.
Another Weibo user, ignoring Wang’s grievances, observed: “This is perfect, now you don’t need a reason to finally delete those people you don’t like.”
Granted, there were some who criticized Kou’s handling of the situation, viewing the incident as an indictment of the at times sketchy insurance industry. However, many showed empathy towards Kou’s predicament, one netizen asserting that “Kou is just scared [Wang] will take other colleagues to his new company.”
In any case, the general consensus is not in Wang’s favor; netizens mostly agree that it is not unreasonable for companies to demand employees who just resigned to withdraw from any “work group chats.”
On November 19, the day after the news went viral, Ping’an issued a letter of clarification saying they regretted the situation was handled, followed a hand-written letter of apology from Kou, who acknowledged her lack of consideration.
Apology letter by Kou.
This was enough to satisfy Wang it seems, as both letters mention that all parties had now settled the issue.
Gabi Verberg is a Business graduate from the University of Amsterdam who has worked and studied in Shanghai and Beijing. She now lives in Amsterdam and works as a part-time translator, with a particular interest in Chinese modern culture and politics.
How K-pop Fans and the 13-Year-Old Daughter of Baidu VP Sparked a Debate on Online Privacy
What began as K-pop fan outrage targeting a snarky commenter quickly escalated into a Baidu-linked scandal and a broader conversation about data privacy on Chinese social media.
For an ordinary person with just a few followers, a Weibo account can sometimes be like a refuge from real life—almost like a private space on a public platform—where, along with millions of others, they can express dissatisfaction about daily annoyances or vent frustration about personal life situations.
But over recent years, even the most ordinary social media users could become victims of “opening the box” (开盒 kāihé)—the Chinese internet term for doxxing, meaning the deliberate leaking of personal information to expose or harass someone online.
A K-pop Fan-Led Online Witch Hunt
On March 12, a Chinese social media account focusing on K-pop content, Yuanqi Taopu Xuanshou (@元气桃浦选手), posted about Jang Wonyoung, a popular member of the Korean girl group IVE. As the South Korean singer and model attended Paris Fashion Week and then flew back the same day, the account suggested she was on a “crazy schedule.”
In the comment section, one female Weibo user nicknamed “Charihe” replied:
💬 “It’s a 12-hour flight and it’s not like she’s flying the plane herself. Isn’t sleeping in business class considered resting? Who says she can’t rest? What are you actually talking about by calling this a ‘crazy schedule’..”
Although the comment may have come across as a bit snarky, it was generally lighthearted and harmless. Yet unexpectedly, it brought disaster upon her.
That very evening, the woman nicknamed Charihe was bombarded with direct messages filled with insults from fans of Jang Wonyoung and IVE.
Ironically, Charihe’s profile showed she was anything but a hater of the pop star—her Weibo page included multiple posts praising Wonyoung’s beauty and charm. But that context was ignored by overzealous fans, who combed through her social media accounts looking for other posts to criticize, framing her as a terrible person.
After discovering through Charihe’s account that she was pregnant, Jang Wonyoung’s fans escalated their attacks by targeting her unborn child with insults.
The harassment did not stop there. Around midnight, fans doxxed Charihe, exposing her personal information, workplace, and the contact details of her family and friends. Her friends were flooded with messages, and some were even targeted at their workplaces.
Then, they tracked down Charihe’s husband’s WeChat account, sent him screenshots of her posts, and encouraged him to “physically punish” her.
The extremity of the online harassment finally drew backlash from netizens, who expressed concern for this ordinary pregnant woman’s situation:
💬 “Her entire life was exposed to people she never wanted to know about.”
💬 “Suffering this kind of attack during pregnancy is truly an undeserved disaster.”
Despite condemnation of the hate, some extreme self-proclaimed “fans” remained relentless in the online witch hunt against Charihe.
Baidu Takes a Hit After VP’s 13-Year-Old Daughter Is Exposed
One female fan, nicknamed “YourEyes” (@你的眼眸是世界上最小的湖泊), soon started doxxing commenters who had defended her. The speed and efficiency of these attacks left many stunned at just how easy it apparently is to trace social media users and doxx them.
Digging into old Weibo posts from the “YourEyes” account, people found she had repeatedly doxxed people on social media since last year, using various alt accounts.
She had previously also shared information claiming to study in Canada and boasted about her father’s monthly salary of 220,000 RMB (approx. $30.3K), along with a photo of a confirmation document.
Piecing together the clues, online sleuths finally identified her as the daughter of Xie Guangjun (谢广军), Vice President of Baidu.
From an online hate campaign against an innocent, snarky commenter, the case then became a headline in Chinese state media, and even made international headlines, after it was confirmed that the user “YourEyes”—who had been so quick to dig up others’ personal details—was in fact the 13-year-old daughter of Xie Guangjun, vice president at one of China’s biggest tech giants.
On March 17, Xie Guangjun posted the following apology to his WeChat Moments:
💬 “Recently, my 13-year-old daughter got into an online dispute. Losing control of her emotions, she published other people’s private information from overseas social platforms onto her own account. This led to her own personal information also getting exposed, triggering widespread negative discussion.
As her father, I failed to detect the problem in time and failed to guide her in how to properly handle the situation. I did not teach her the importance of respecting and protecting the privacy of others and of herself, for which I feel deep regret.
In response to this incident, I have communicated with my daughter and sternly criticized her actions. I hereby sincerely apologize to all friends affected.
As a minor, my daughter’s emotional and cognitive maturity is still developing. In a moment of impulsiveness, she made a wrong decision that hurt others and, at the same time, found herself caught in a storm of controversy that has subjected her to pressure and distress far beyond her age.
Here, I respectfully ask everyone to stop spreading related content and to give her the opportunity to correct her mistakes and grow.
Once again, I extend my apologies, and I sincerely thank everyone for your understanding and kindness.”
The public response to Xie’s apology has been largely negative. Many criticized the fact that it was posted privately on WeChat Moments rather than shared on a public platform like Weibo. Some dismissed the statement as an attempt to pacify Baidu shareholders and colleagues rather than take real accountability.
Netizens also pointed out that the apology avoided addressing the core issue of doxxing. Concerns were raised about whether Xie’s position at Baidu—and potential access to sensitive information—may have helped his daughter acquire the data she used to doxx others.
Adding fuel to the speculation were past conversations allegedly involving one of @YourEyes’ alt accounts. In one exchange, when asked “Who are you doxxing next?” she replied, “My parents provided the info,” with a friend adding, “The Baidu database can doxx your entire family.”
Following an internal investigation, Baidu’s head of security, Chen Yang (陈洋), stated on the company’s internal forum that Xie Guangjun’s daughter did not obtain data from Baidu but from “overseas sources.”
However, this clarification did little to reassure the public—and Baidu’s reputation has taken a hit. The company has faced prior scandals, most notably a the 2016 controversy over profiting from misleading medical advertisements.
Online Vulnerability
Beyond Baidu’s involvement, the incident reignited wider concerns about online privacy in China. “Even if it didn’t come from Baidu,” one user wrote, “the fact that a 13-year-old can access such personal information about strangers is terrifying.”
Using the hashtag “Reporter buys own confidential data” (#记者买到了自己的秘密#), Chinese media outlet Southern Metropolis Daily (@南方都市报) recently reported that China’s gray market for personal data has grown significantly. For just 300 RMB ($41), their journalist was able to purchase their own household registration data.
Further investigation uncovered underground networks that claim to cooperate with police, offering a “70-30 profit split” on data transactions.
These illegal data practices are not just connected to doxxing but also to widespread online fraud.
In response, some netizens have begun sharing guides on how to protect oneself from doxxing. For example, they recommend people disable phone number search on apps like WeChat and Alipay, hide their real name in settings, and avoid adding strangers, especially if they are active in fan communities.
Amid the chaos, K-pop fan wars continue to rage online. But some voices—such as influencer Jingzai (@一个特别虚荣的人)—have pointed out that the real issue isn’t fandom, but the deeper problem of data security.
💬 “You should question Baidu, question the telecom giants, question the government, and only then, fight over which fan group started this.”
As for ‘Charihe,’ whose comment sparked it all—her account is now gone. Her username has become a hashtag. For some, it’s still a target for online abuse. For others, it is a reminder of just how vulnerable every user is in a world where digital privacy is far from guaranteed.
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edited for clarity by Manya Koetse
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Recently, Chinese netizens have started reaching out to Apple and its CEO Tim Cook in order to put pressure on a state-owned battery factory accused of violating labor laws.
The controversy involves the Huizhou factory of Desay Battery (德赛电池), known for producing lithium batteries for the high-end smartphone market, including Apple and Samsung. The factory caught netizens’ attention after a worker exposed in a video that his superiors were deducting three days of wages because he worked an 8-hour shift instead of the company’s “mandatory 10-hour on-duty.” Compulsory overtime violates China’s labor laws.
In response, the worker and other netizens started to let Apple know about the situation through email and social media, trying to put pressure on the factory by highlighting its position in the Apple supply chain. In at least one instance, Apple confirmed receipt of the complaint. (Meanwhile, on Tim Cook’s official Weibo account, the comment section underneath his most recent post is clearly being censored.)
Screenshot of replies on X underneath a post by Tim Cook on International Women’s Day.
The factory, however, has denied the allegations, , claiming that the video creator was spreading untruths and that they had reported him to authorities. His content has since also been removed. A staff member at Desay Battery maintained that they adhere to the 8-hour workday and appropriately compensate workers for overtime.
At the same time, Desay Battery issued an official statement, admitting to “management oversights regarding employee rights protection” (“保障员工权益的管理上存在疏漏”) and promising to do better in safeguarding employee rights.
One NetEase account (大风文字) suggested that for Chinese workers to effectively expose labor violations, reporting them to Western suppliers or EU regulators is an effective way to force domestic companies to respect labor laws.
Another commentary channel (上峰视点) was less optimistic about the effectiveness, arguing that companies like Apple would be quick to drop suppliers over product quality issues but more willing to turn a blind eye to labor violations—since cheap labor remains a key competitive advantage in Chinese manufacturing.
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What’s on Weibo is run by Manya Koetse (@manyapan), offering independent analysis of social trends in China for over a decade. Subscribe to gain access to all content and get the Weibo Watch newsletter.