SubscribeLog in
Connect with us

Featured

Weibo Watch: “Comrade Trump Returns to the Palace”

From stocks to memes, Chinese netizens turn Trump’s win into a blend of playful speculation and some serious debate.

Manya Koetse

Published

on

PREMIUM NEWSLETTER | ISSUE #39

This week’s newsletter:

◼︎ 1. Editor’s Note – “Comrade Trump Returns to the Palace”
◼︎ 2. What’s New – A closer look at featured stories
◼︎ 3. WeiboWatch List – Online discussions to watch
◼︎ 4. What’s Noteworthy – Hu Xijin is back
◼︎ 6. What’s Popular – New series features story of Xi’s father
◼︎ 7. What’s Memorable – Trump’s 2016 win
◼︎ 8. Weibo Word of the Week – Digital Ibuprofen

 

Dear Reader,

 

“Good morning, everyone. A new day with global impact has begun,” Weibo blogger “MLRS270” wrote early Wednesday morning, China time. Weibo, like the rest of the world, has been closely watching how American voters would shape the outcome of the 2024 US presidential election. With half a million followers, MLRS270 claimed that Harris’s victory was already “set in stone.”

Twelve hours later, however, the online discussions looked very different. Trump’s win dominated Weibo trending topics and the hashtag “Trump Officially Declares Victory” (#特朗普正式宣布获胜#) received over 870 million views.

“The upcoming four years are going to be entertaining,” a popular comment said. Posts, videos, and memes on Trump’s win immediately began to surface, not just on Weibo but also on other Chinese social media platforms like WeChat and Xiaohongshu.

The ‘entertainment’ surrounding the American elections had already started earlier. Most noteworthy was the sudden surge in stock value for a Chinese company called Sichuan Wisdom Co. Ltd. (川大智胜). This spike occurred simply because the company’s name sounds like “Trump winning.”

The Chinese name, Chuān Dà Zhì Shèng (川大智胜), belongs to a software company unrelated to Trump. But its name’s first character, Chuān—which in this context refers to Sichuan—is also used in the Chinese transliteration of Trump’s name, leading some to interpret it as “Trump Grand Wisdom Victory.”

For fun, Chinese investors began buying shares. “To support you, I’ve bought some stocks,” one Weibo user from Sichuan wrote, posting an orange heart emoji. The stocks continued to rise when Trump’s actual win became known (#川大智胜午后涨停#).

Chuān Dà Zhì Shèng (川大智胜) stocks going up.

Meanwhile, another company named Haers (哈尔斯 Hāěrsī), which sounds like Harris in Chinese, saw a sudden drop in its stock. That Zhejiang company, which produces vacuum-insulated containers, also got caught up in the elections (#哈尔斯股价大跌#).

Some Chinese economic news channels noted that “external developments” were clearly playing a role in these market fluctuations, and warned people that this kind of short-term, non-logical speculative trading was not recommended. They suggested it would be better to “enjoy the show from the sidelines” (“看个热闹”).

Nevertheless, the momentary fluctuation in ‘Trump’ versus ‘Harris’ stocks did show a general preference for Trump among the Chinese online public.

While the idea of Trump being a more ‘entertaining’ American president than Harris often comes up in Chinese online discussions on the election outcome, there are also more serious discussions about whether Trump’s presidency would be good or bad for China.

Despite what happened in the past, many netizens suggest that Trump, with his pragmatic and business-oriented mindset, will be “more favorable” for China and “better for global stability.” Despite the downsides of protectionist trade policies and high tariffs on China, it is believed that the potential benefits would outweigh them through, for example, improved diplomatic relations and cooperation in tech. Trump’s view of China as an open economic competitor would allow China to respond directly and strategically.

Harris, on the other hand, is viewed less favorably by Chinese social media commenters who believe that China would be seen as a political adversary under her presidency, employing underhanded tactics to contain and undermine China. In their view, she represents the American political elite, which they perceive as engaging in covert power plays worldwide for political gain. Trump’s explicit focus on economic competition is something many find more relatable.

Her perceived “elitism” is also linked to her calls for the need to “stay woke,” a message that hasn’t resonated with many Chinese netizens, who often associate “wokism” with political elites and Western hypocrisy. In contrast, many prefer to support the more practical and relatable “grassroots.”

However, many also believe that for China, it does not matter who won in the end. “In reality, whoever takes office brings new challenges,” a well-known military and current affairs blogger (@后沙月光本尊) wrote. This sentiment was echoed by many others. When Iraqi Weibo blogger Omar (@欧玛omar) suggested that Trump’s return to power would be unfavorable for China due to his “wild schemes against China” and his “crude remarks,” dozens of commenters replied: “It would’ve been the same either way.” “The Democrats are no different.” “China is not afraid.”

A general consensus seems to be that, if it makes no difference to them who’s in the White House, it might as well be someone they find amusing and interesting. In this regard, Trump is the preferred winner for many netizens, who congratulate “the King of Understanding” for his “reemployment.”

Chinese meme: “Trump returns to the palace.”

Trump earned the title “King of Understanding” (dǒngwáng 懂王, also ‘King of Knowing’) on Chinese social media for his often-quoted claims of understanding complex issues better than anyone else (“people are really surprised I understand this stuff”). (Harris, by the way, was nicknamed ‘Sister Haha’ (哈哈姐) or the “King of Laughter” (笑王) for her frequent, distinctive laughter during public appearances.)

Another famous nickname for Trump is “Comrade Jianguo” (建国同志), meaning “Comrade Build-the-Country.” This nickname humorously suggests that Trump’s leadership, which is meant to “make America great again,” inadvertently accelerates China’s rise. Over the years, these playful nicknames have blended mockery with affection, reflecting the humorous perspective many Chinese social media users have toward Trump’s antics.

While Western platforms like Reddit are filled with shock and dread today, Weibo is mostly buzzing with lighthearted banter and optimism. “Looking ahead, keep an eye on sectors like artificial intelligence, autonomous driving, fintech, and Musk-related stocks,” one commenter wrote. “Trump loves Elon. We might even see peace between Russia and Ukraine, or Kim Jong-un watching an NBA game with Trump. And of course, we’d welcome Comrade Jianguo to visit Hainan for some tourism—after all, he loves doing business, and we have free trade.”

When blogger Wu Pei (@吴佩) asked netizens what Trump’s win would realistically mean for them, responses ranged from “crashing stock markets” and “setbacks for EV companies” to “heightened trade frictions.” The only thing people seem to agree on is that it would be best to sit back and watch the spectacle as “Comrade Trump returns to the palace.”

This edition of Weibo Watch was co-curated by Miranda Barnes. Wendy Huang contributed an insightful article on the recent controversies surrounding Chinese livestream stars, and Ruixin Zhang provides a must-read piece on the ongoing crackdown on online smut.

Best,
Manya Koetse
(@manyapan)

 

 

A closer look at featured stories

Forbidden Stories | A recent crackdown on Chinese authors writing erotic webnovels has sparked increased online conversations about the Haitang Literature ‘Flower Market’ subculture, the challenges faced by prominent online smut writers, and the evolving regulations surrounding digital erotica in China. But how serious is the ‘crime’ of writing explicit fiction China today?

Read here
 

Viral Bao’an | This is the video that made a Xiaoxitian (Shanxi) security guard go viral in China. In the popular video, he tells a Douyin vlogger about his raise from 1,700 yuan/month (US$240) to 2,200 yuan ($310), thanks to a tourism boom driven by the popular game Black Myth: Wukong. Shortly after gaining online fame, he shared in another video that he’d been dismissed, looking tired and saying, “They [the superiors] told me not to work anymore. I didn’t say anything wrong, but they don’t want me to continue.” This sparked a wave of outrage online. More about that here 👇.

Read here
 

Livestream Scandals | As livestreaming continues to gain popularity in China, so do the controversies surrounding the industry. Negative headlines involving high-profile livestreamers, as well as aspiring influencers hoping to make it big, frequently dominate Weibo’s trending topics. ‘Wanghong’ used to be a mark of online fame, but now, it’s increasingly tied to controversy and scandal. Read this deep dive ➡️

Read here

 

WeiboWatch List

Trending news and online discussions to watch

 
🚫 Forbidden Fashion

A group of foreign fashion designers linked to the brand Fecal Matter were denied entry to Beijing’s Forbidden City on October 15. The group, consisting of American designer Rick Owens, his wife Michèle Lamy, and Fecal Matter members Hannah Rose Dalton and Steven Raj Bhaskaran, made headlines internationally after posting photos on social media of themselves posing outside the Forbidden City. According to their post, security had informed them that they could enter if they removed their makeup and changed into “normal” clothing, a request they declined. While the designers framed the incident as motivation to continue fighting for “greater acceptance and tolerance for difference around the world,” Chinese media and social media users viewed it as a sign of disrespect (#外国游客因着装问题被劝离故宫#).

The Forbidden City issued a statement on the 18th, clarifying that it has no specific dress code for visitors, “as long as it’s not too exaggerated.” A top comment on a Weibo thread about the incident, which received over 100,000 likes, read: “When in Rome, do as the Romans do (客随主便, kè suí zhǔ biàn). If you insist on your freedom to dress as you please, then don’t come to my house!”

 
👻 Halloween Crackdown

The Forbidden City incident wasn’t the only costume-related controversy in China this month. In Shanghai, local police patrolled popular areas to monitor Halloween celebrations. Although there was no nationwide or citywide ban, some videos showed costumed individuals being escorted away by police or forced to remove their outfits. There was a significant police presence on Julu Road and in Zhongshan Park, with the latter even temporarily closed to prevent large gatherings.

Last year, Halloween celebrations in Shanghai caused a frenzy on the Internet. Instead of traditional Halloween themes, young people on Julu Road and beyond brought pop culture memes and social commentary to life through creative costumes. Many outfits were playful, some queer, and others served as social critiques, with costumes depicting surveillance cameras and COVID-19 medical workers. Some even described the event as “China’s very own pride walk.” However, it’s now clear that local authorities are keen to prevent Shanghai’s Halloween festivities from evolving into a larger cultural celebration or protest.

 
📉 Math Competition Outcome

You might remember the story that went viral earlier this year about Jiang Ping (姜萍), the seventeen-year-old vocational school student who reached the top 12 on the finalist list of the Alibaba Global Mathematics Competition, competing against students from elite universities worldwide. Her success story—coming from a humble rural family and excelling in math as a fashion student under the guidance of her teacher Wang Runqiu (王润秋)—initially resonated but was soon questioned. Critics doubted the authenticity of Jiang Ping’s initial score, not only because she wasn’t a math major but also because her score allegedly surpassed her own teacher’s.

Now, the results of the 2024 Alibaba Mathematics Competition, originally set for August, are finally out. Neither Jiang Ping nor her teacher appears on the list. The competition committee released a statement confirming that Wang Runqiu had assisted Jiang Ping in the preliminaries, violating the “no collaboration with others” rule. It’s a disappointing outcome—not only because the competition allowed room for cheating, which Wang and Jiang exploited, but also because Jiang had become an inspirational role model for many math-loving girls from non-elite backgrounds. Now, she has fallen from that pedestal.

 
🔪 Xiaomi SU7 Stabbing Incident

A 23-year-old man from Nantong named Kang, who had just purchased the Tesla competitor Xiaomi SU7, recently became a trending topic on Chinese social media after fatally stabbing a biker enthusiast. Kang, who was part of a motorcycling chat group, shared his new 300,000-yuan ($42,200) Xiaomi SU7 EV in the group, only to be mocked by some members. When the Xiaomi EV owner and bikers later met in person outside a coffee shop popular with bikers, the encounter escalated. Kang pulled out a knife, fatally stabbing one of the group members, then fled in his brand-new car, crashing through a storefront and ramming into motorcycles. A video of the incident went viral online. Kang was arrested shortly afterward.

The incident sparked conversations about how the 23-year-old, a recent university graduate, reached this breaking point. A popular blogger, @黑哥爆料, suggested that Kang’s parents had supported him in buying the costly car, hoping he would work hard and settle down. Lacking the social recognition he had hoped for, the situation with the bikers pushed him to his limits. While Kang bears responsibility for his actions, the blogger suggests that the group could have de-escalated the tension by acknowledging him instead of bullying him. In the end, this incident has devastated multiple lives, including the victim’s, Kang’s, and also Kang’s parents, who now bear the financial and emotional toll of their son’s actions.

 
🍰 Swiss Roll Conversations

“How to divide 8 Swiss rolls?” (8个瑞士卷怎么分?) This question recently became a trending topic on Weibo after a stay-at-home mom shared a video about her experience buying a box of Swiss rolls with eight pieces. Her daughter ate two, her son ate two, and her husband ate two. She assumed the last two pieces were hers, but her husband scolded her, saying she should set a good example by not snacking, and that it was selfish not to save the last pieces for the kids.

The video sparked widespread debate, quickly becoming a symbol for broader issues like gender relations, the division of household labor, and the role of stay-at-home moms. Some feminists expressed outrage over the incident, while others suspected the video was staged to create controversy and attract views. The incident has now drawn so much attention that cyberspace authorities have intervened to investigate whether the Swiss Roll story is genuine. Bon appétit? Let’s see how this unfolds.

 

What’s Noteworthy

Small news with big impact

For nearly 100 days, since July 27, the well-known social and political commentator Hu Xijin (胡锡进) remained silent on Chinese social media. This was highly unusual for the columnist and former Global Times editor, who typically posts multiple Weibo updates daily, along with regular updates on his X account and video commentaries.

Various foreign media outlets speculated that his silence might be related to his comments about the Third Plenum and Chinese economics, especially regarding China’s shift to treating public and private enterprises equally. Without any official statement, Chinese netizens were left guessing about his whereabouts. Most assumed he had, in some way, taken a ‘wrong’ stance in his commentary on the economy and stock market, or perhaps on politically sensitive topics like the Suzhou stabbing of a Japanese student, which led to his being sidelined for a while.

On October 31, Hu suddenly reappeared on Weibo with a post praising the newly opened Chaobai River Bridge, which connects Beijing to Dachang in Hebei—where Hu owns a home—significantly reducing travel time and making the more affordable Dachang area attractive to people from Beijing. The post received over 9,000 comments and 25,000 likes, with many welcoming back the old journalist. “You’re back!” and “Old Hu, I didn’t see you on Weibo for so long. Although I regularly curse your posts, I missed you,” were among the replies.

Not everyone, however, is thrilled to see his return. Blogger Bad Potato (@一个坏土豆) criticized Hu, claiming that with his frequent posts and shifting views, he likes to jump on trends and gauge public opinion—but is actually not very skilled at it, which allegedly contributes to a toxic online environment. Other bloggers also take issue with Hu’s tendency to contrast himself, or disagree with the stances he makes in new posts.

When Hu wrote about Trump’s win, the top comment read: “Old Trump is back, just like you!”

Hu seems delighted to be back. He hasn’t mentioned his absence but shared a photo from 1978, when he joined the military, reflecting on his journey of growth, learning, and commitment to the country. He has a way of admiring himself—and, occasionally, we don’t mind admiring him too. Welcome back, Hu.

 

The latest buzz in arts, marketing & pop culture

The TV series Years in the Northwest (西北岁月), premiering on CCTV 1 this week, tells the story of Xi Jinping’s father, longtime PLA leader Xi Zhongxun (习仲勋, 1913-2002). This is the first historical drama to focus on Xi Zhongxun, highlighting his “extraordinary experiences and achievements” during the 25 years he spent in the Shaanxi-Gansu border region from 1927 to 1952.

Xi Zhongxun joined the Communist Party in 1928 and went on to become a prominent revolutionary and political leader. In the northwest’s Shaanxi-Gansu border region, he played a critical role in establishing revolutionary bases. Working alongside notable figures like Peng Dehuai (彭德怀), his efforts were instrumental in consolidating Party influence in the region.

On social media, some viewers of the first episode have shared emotional responses, while others praise popular actor Wu Lei (吴磊, 1999) for his portrayal of the young Xi Zhongxun.

One interesting aspect of the series’ announcement on Weibo is the unusually high number of shares—over 620,500—compared to the relatively low number of comments, suggesting that online discussions surrounding the series are controlled and contained.

 

What’s Memorable

Best reads from the archive

On the morning of November 9, 2016 (Beijing time), the world received news of Donald Trump’s victory in the U.S. presidential election. In our coverage of Trump’s win at the time, we provided insight into Chinese reactions to America’s unconventional new president. From official Chinese media to Weibo netizens, responses to Trump’s triumph were favorable, critical, humorous, but above all, mixed.

Read here
 

Weibo Word of the Week

The catchword to know

Digital Iboprofen | Our Weibo word of the week is 电子布洛芬 (diànzǐ bùluòfēn), which translates to “Digital Ibuprofen” or “Electronic Ibuprofen.”*

This week, the term came up when fans told Chinese actor and singer Tan Jianci (檀健次) that he is their “digital ibuprofen.” Tan, with a puzzled look, asked what that meant. A fan explained, “It means we feel better when we see you” (or, essentially, “our bodies feel no pain”). Since then, Tan Jianci has become associated with the term “digital ibuprofen.”

Although the phrase resurfaced this week, it has been around for some time, gaining popularity in 2022-2023 among fans of entertainment shows. It refers to content that provides relief from stress or discomfort, much like how ibuprofen alleviates physical pain. For instance, the Hunan TV show Go for Happiness (快乐再出发) is often called “digital ibuprofen.”

Chiikawa is the original ‘digital ibuprofen’. Image via @南岛客厅.

The term saw a surge in popularity alongside the Japanese animated series Chiikawa, which became a viral hit among young people. The anime’s portrayal of its cute character staying optimistic despite life’s stresses earned Chiikawa the nickname “digital ibuprofen,” as fans found comfort in its stories (read more in this story by Sixth Tone).

“Digital ibuprofen” applies to more than just shows—it can be any content, such as videos, memes, or idols, that provides comfort, distraction, and relief to fans.

In the same category, there’s also “digital pickled mustard” or “electronic pickled mustard” (电子榨菜, diànzǐ zhàcài), which refers to a binge-worthy or comforting show.

*The term 电子 (diànzǐ) means “electronic” and is commonly used in modern Chinese terms, much like the English “e-” prefix in ebook (电子书) or email (电子邮件). It’s also used for digital transactions, like digital payments (电子支付) or digital wallets (电子钱包).

Featured image of Tan Jianci’s head inside an ibuprofen pill, on Xiaohongshu via 燋糖栗子.

This is an on-site version of the Weibo Watch newsletter by What’s on Weibo. Missed last week’s 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.

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.

Continue Reading
Click to comment

Leave a Reply

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

Chapter Dive

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

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

Manya Koetse

Published

on

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

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

The accompanying text read:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Emotional Infidelity as a Form of Female Self-Expression

 

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

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

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

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

They wrote:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Lessons to Be Learned

 

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

🔍 1. Marketing fails are often about the response

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Not Just OPPO: When Gender-Related Marketing Goes Wrong

 

OPPO is far from alone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


 

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

 

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

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

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

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


 

💥 #2 Fuyanjie: “Too Dark and Stinky”

 

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

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

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

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

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

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


 

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


 

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

&nbsp

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

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

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

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

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


 

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

&nbsp

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


 

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

&nbsp

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

IKEA apologized and removed the commercial.\


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

Continue Reading

China Memes & Viral

The AI Actor Debate, Tragedy in China’s “Fireworks Capital,” and the Viral Labubu Fridge

From AI-generated film releases to popular “micro-vacations”, these are the digital & social trends shaping Chinese online conversations this May Day holiday.

Manya Koetse

Published

on

In this China Trend Watch edition:

– AI actors vs human storytelling
– China’s deadly fireworks disaster
– Chengdu car attack controversy
– A blogger tracked down over pink river water
– The $1,900 Labubu fridge
– “Micro-vacations” & more

 


 

Everything seems to be about AI these days. Especially in China, where AI has permeated so many industries that it’s simply become part of the daily conversation.

Over the “Golden Week” holiday, Hangzhou deployed its first smart-robot traffic police teams. Demand for Huawei’s Ascend 950 AI chips surged following the release of DeepSeek’s V4 model (designed to run on the Huawei hardware). Across sectors, Chinese companies are racing to integrate AI into their factories, vehicles, and everyday services.

In recent weeks, AI’s role in China’s entertainment industry has particularly sparked intense discussion.

In late April, China’s major streaming platform iQIYI unveiled its “Nadou Pro” (拿豆Pro) AI film production initiative, alongside an “AI Artist Library” featuring dozens of actors whose likenesses could be used for AI-generated content. CEO Gong Yu (龚宇) suggested this could allow some actors to “appear” in up to 14 dramas per year, rather than only four.

The announcement immediately triggered online backlash. Some actors said they had not agreed to be included, while Gong’s remarks were widely seen as tone-deaf. Beyond concerns about consent, many netizens questioned the appeal: do audiences actually want 14 AI-generated performances more than a few real ones?

Although iQIYI later clarified that actors would remain involved in decision-making and that consent would be required for any AI scenes, skepticism remains strong. Many fear AI will gradually replace human actors and make films or dramas feel increasingly artificial.

Perhaps this is also one of the reasons why the “dark horse” hit of this May Day holiday box office season was a smaller local production with little pre-release buzz: Love Letters to Grandma (给阿嬷的情书, alternative English title: Dear You). With no big stars or special effects, the film stands out for its authenticity, featuring Chaoshan actors speaking their native dialect and telling an intimate, emotional story.

Still from Love Letters to Grandma (给阿嬷的情书, alternative English title: Dear You)

Set against the historical backdrop of the mass migration of southern Chinese to Southeast Asia, the film follows a grandson searching for the truth about his long-absent, supposedly wealthy grandfather, who continued sending letters and money home despite decades of separation from his family. (This type of family correspondence is called 潮汕僑批, Teochew Letters.)

What the grandson discovers in Thailand is unexpected: the letters his grandmother relied on for years were not sent by her husband, but by a stranger who chose to continue the correspondence on his behalf.

The film – that now scores a 9 on Douban – has been widely praised for its sincerity: the little details hidden in everyday life, the genuine emotions on the actor’s faces, and the fragile image of a grandmother reading love letters in the Chaoshan dialect.

As China moves deeper into the AI era, the film’s success highlights an interesting countercurrent: while major platforms push more toward AI-generated content, audiences are increasingly embracing stories that feel more human and emotionally real. There’s nothing artificial about that.

There’s much more trending news this week, so let’s dive into the other stories.

📌 PS: Also noteworthy this week: a Hangzhou court ruled that Chinese companies cannot fire workers simply because their jobs are replaced by AI. A 35-year-old tech worker sued his employer after being told his role would be handled by AI systems. The court was clear: adopting AI to reduce costs is not a lawful reason for dismissal.


Quick Scroll

  • 🎬 China has approved the country’s first AI-generated film for theatrical release. The 90-minute sci-fi film Sanxingdui: Future Memories (三星堆:未来记忆) was made using tools from ByteDance.
  • ❗ A 16-year-old female tourist died on May 3 after falling from a swing suspended above a waterfall at a scenic park in Sichuan, prompting discussions about safety regulations in China’s fast-growing adventure and thrill tourism sector.
  • 🔬 Three Chinese female scientists simultaneously won awards at the 2026 Breakthrough Prize ceremony in Los Angeles — the ‘Oscars of science’ — for their exceptional contributions to mathematics.
  • ✈️ Jackie Chan has been appointed as the new cultural ambassador for Chinese travel platform Trip.com, which has set a target of bringing 200 million foreign tourists to China over the next five years.
  • 💬 Wechat has redesigned its app’s social “Moments” layout, with users calling it “ugly” and finding it hard to adapt.
  • ☕ The Guangzhou Coffee Festival drew 37,000 visitors in one day, signaling strong consumer enthusiasm for cafe & coffee culture over this May Day holiday.
  • 🍬 Most people are familiar with White Rabbit – that milky sticky white candy – and in China it’s a nostalgia staple. The brand has now opened a flagship store on Shanghai’s Nanjing Road, with many netizens being happy about how it brings back childhood memories.
  • 🚗 After the 2026 Beijing Auto Show, commentators & car bloggers argue that many domestic high-end EVs are all look-alikes. As competition shifts from price wars to tech differentiation, this perceived lack of originality has drawn concern about brand identity and long-term innovation.
  • 📱 American streamer IShowSpeed went viral after accidentally dropping his Huawei tri-fold phone into the ocean during a livestream. He had purchased the device last year during his famous China tour.

What Really Stood Out

Devastating Explosion in China’s “Fireworks Capital” Exposes Deep-Rooted Safety Risks

[#烟花爆炸#] [#花炮之都30万人的生计之困#]

Twenty-six people were killed and 61 injured in a major explosion at a fireworks plant in Guandu Township, Liuyang (Hunan Province). The incident exposes deeper structural safety risks in this so-called “fireworks capital of the world.”

The explosion occurred late in the afternoon of May 4 at Liuyang Huasheng Fireworks Manufacturing Company (浏阳华盛烟花制造有限公司), a mid-sized factory that had been operating for over 26 years. Shockwaves were reportedly felt up to 10 kilometers away, and windows shattered at distances of up to one kilometer from the blast site.

More than 480 emergency personnel were dispatched. A second round of searches on Tuesday raised the confirmed death toll to 26, though it remains unclear at this time how many people are still missing.

Beyond the tragic loss of life and damage, the explosion has far-reaching consequences for Liuyang, as all fireworks manufacturers have been ordered to halt production pending safety inspections and rectification.

As one of the world’s leading fireworks production hubs, the industry is the backbone of the local economy, with 431 factories directly employing around 300,000 people. A prolonged shutdown could leave thousands of workers and their families without income.

At the same time, safety issues at Liuyang factories have been a point of concern for at least two decades. The factory involved had been penalized earlier this year for storing industrial potassium perchlorate (高氯酸钾) together with phthalate compounds (苯二甲酸盐), materials that can trigger chain explosions from even minor sparks or static discharge.

While many commenters express sympathy for those affected, there is broad agreement that safety must come first. Many also note that such a major incident may have been preventable (investigations are ongoing) and should never happen again in Liuyang.


Chengdu Car Attack Sparks Anger Over “Accident” Framing

[#成都撞人#] [#成都男子驾车碰撞行人1死11伤#]

On the first day of the May Day holiday, a horrific hit-and-run incident at a busy Chengdu intersection triggered public frustration over the official framing of the incident.

At around 17:20, a 31-year-old male driver identified as Li (李某某) drove his sedan into a crosswalk full of pedestrians along Jiannan Avenue, striking multiple people. Videos from the scene showed at least five people lying motionless on the street. The driver then continued, hitting people at other locations, including a motorcycle and dragging one victim along the road.

The Li Laoshi X account reported that a bystander captured the driver exiting the vehicle while still holding a knife. According to official reports, the incident resulted in one death and 11 injuries. The driver was arrested at the scene and was reportedly not under the influence of alcohol or drugs.

In its statement, the Chengdu Public Security Bureau described the incident as a “road traffic accident” (道路交通事故), saying the driver had “collided with pedestrians” (与行人发生碰撞).

As videos were taken offline and some comment sections shut down, the wording of the official statement drew online criticism. Many argued this was not an “accident,” but a case of “intentionally endangering public safety” or “revenge against society” (bàofù shèhuì 报复社会).

Bàofù shèhuì,” or “taking revenge on society,” is often used to describe violent incidents in China in which individuals with personal grievances or mental health issues commit extreme acts.

In such cases—whether car-ramming or knife attacks—online discussions are often tightly controlled, and detailed information about the incident tends to remain limited.

Earlier this year, there were two other fatal incidents in Chengdu involving cars ramming into crowds, involving a 38-year-old and a 19-year-old driver. In March 2024, a black Maybach sedan also drove into pedestrians in Chengdu, killing two. In that case, netizens likewise claimed the incident was suppressed and that there was little follow-up information.

The latest case is currently under investigation.

This is a country where everything is always ‘under investigation,’” one Douyin commenter wrote sarcastically.


Chinese Environmental Blogger Harassed for Exposing Local Pollution

[#警方回应博主取样河水后被半夜敲门#] [#环保博主取样河水被半夜敲门#]

An environmental blogger known online as Dongbei Biaoge (东北彪哥, “Northeast Tough Guy,” 97k followers on Douyin) is at the center of a local scandal that has sparked nationwide discussion, shifting from conversations over pink water to a midnight knock on the door.

The story began with Dongbei Biaoge’s May 1 trip to Henan province after receiving tips from followers that river water in a Zhoukou waterway, next to farmland used by local residents, had turned bright pink and was covered in green algae. The blogger collected a sample of the pink water in Dancheng County, which is also home to a major industrial company.

Using a DIY rapid test kit, he recorded ammonia-nitrogen levels of approximately 5–10 mg/L, several times above national thresholds, and promised followers an update.

That next update, however, focused on something else: Dongbei Biaoge said he had been receiving nonstop harassing phone calls since posting his video. Despite using a friend’s out-of-province vehicle and not disclosing his location, unknown individuals were able to track him down. Around midnight / early morning on May 2, two men knocked on his hotel room door, asking to “have a talk” (谈一谈). He refused to open and called the police.

The following morning, local police confirmed by phone that the two men were township government officials and described the late-night visit as a “misunderstanding.”

Meanwhile, Dancheng County issued a statement saying it had launched an overnight investigation following online reports of possible pollution, claiming there was no evidence of industrial wastewater entering the water and announcing further investigation.

Online discussions have since shifted, with many focusing on how Dongbei Biaoge was tracked down, who leaked his personal details, and why his privacy was violated. Some commenters describe the situation as “terrifying,” seeing it as a worrying signal for others trying to expose local environmental issues.


On the Feed

The $1900 Labubu Mini Fridge

If you thought the Labubu hype had ended, I’m afraid to disappoint you. Labubu might start popping up in even more unexpected places now that Pop Mart, the company behind The Monsters series, has entered the world of home appliances.

First launch: the Labubu fridge, featuring original artwork by Hong Kong illustrator Kasing Lung. Two versions of the limited-edition mini fridge (just 999 units, each with a unique serial number) were officially priced at 5,999 yuan ($878). By April 29, nearly 38,000 preorders had been placed.

 

After selling out within seconds of the April 30 launch, the fridge quickly appeared on resale platforms for 12,999 yuan ($1,900).

Founder Wang Ning has said Pop Mart’s IP-driven small appliance line will expand to include electric kettles, coffee machines, electric toothbrushes, hair dryers, and more. Mass production is already underway, with a “China first, overseas later” rollout strategy. Are you ready for Labubu to move in with you?


Word of the Week

Go Slow, Stay Close: “Micro Vacations” (微度假 Wēi Dùjià) on the Rise in China

The word of the week is “Micro Vacation”: 微度假 Wēi Dùjià.

This year’s May Day holiday was extra long, making it the perfect time for travel. According to Chinese state media, the many trips made are proof of the country’s economic vitality.

But at the same time, economic pressures are showing in the way people are traveling: shorter distances and smaller budgets, combined with a quieter pace—very different from the busy city trips and do-and-see-as-much-as-possible travel boom following the immediate post-Covid years.

Many Chinese travelers are now gradually shifting away from traditional tourist hotspots toward more low-key, low-cost, and nearby destinations, where they spend 2–3 days to relax and slow down. These so-called “micro-vacations”—a term that has been around since about 2013—are gaining in popularity.

As part of this trend, farms and other rural destinations are seeing a sharp rise in visitors and revenue this year. People are going camping (often renting gear instead of buying it, called “travel light rentals” 轻装租用, qīngzhuāng zūyòng), enjoying outdoor cooking, fishing, and tea-picking, and bringing back fruit and vegetables in the trunk of their cars.


Featured image: consists of various images combined from China’s first AI film poster (三星堆:未来记忆); pink water scandal; Chengdu car attack; Liuyang explosion; and in the background, the AI artist library by IQIYI.

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. 

Continue Reading

Popular Reads