China Society
Weibo Watch: Going the Wrong Way
About how one delivery driver’s plea for leniency shed light on challenges and struggles faced by millions of food delivery workers, and more must-know trends.
PREMIUM NEWSLETTER | ISSUE #35
This week’s newsletter:
◼︎ 1. Editor’s Note – Going the wrong way
◼︎ 2. What’s New and Noteworthy – A closer look at featured stories
◼︎ 3. What’s Trending – Hot highlights
◼︎ 4. What’s Noteworthy – Young woman’s lonely death in rented apartment
◼︎ 6. What’s Popular – Fan Zhendong’s pluche toys
◼︎ 7. What’s Memorable – Ren Zhiqiang’s Weibo exit
◼︎ 8. Weibo Word of the Week – Fandom-ization
Dear Reader,
“Apology! Apology!” Dozens of delivery drivers chanted, standing together in front of Hangzhou’s Xixi Century Square. The group of workers, mostly men, had gathered in front of the complex after learning about an incident that took place just hours earlier.
One of their colleagues, a young delivery driver for the Meituan platform named Wang, had accidentally damaged a fence while trying to enter the complex to deliver a food order on August 12. The security guard stopped him and allegedly demanded 200 yuan ($28) in compensation. Onlookers captured a video showing Wang kneeling before the guard, pleading for leniency. He could not afford the fee nor the kerfuffle—it was peak lunch hour, and he needed to deliver his order on time.
The image that went viral on the afternoon of August 12.
The incident immediately went viral in WeChat groups.1 The image of the delivery driver on his knees, hands in his lap, helplessly looking up at the security guard, resonated with many delivery workers, sparking anger. Members of the delivery community decided to gather at the scene and protest the way their colleague had been treated.
As more delivery drivers arrived, tensions escalated (video). At least twenty police officers, including a specialized police unit, were called in to deescalate the situation, and the security guard was rushed away for his own safety.
That same night, local authorities issued a notification about the incident, urging people to remain calm and show more tolerance and understanding during these blazing hot summer days.
But the simmering tension beneath the surface runs deeper than just the summer heat.
In recent years, many viral videos have captured the hardships faced by Chinese food delivery workers, who endure scorching heat, heavy rain, and thunderstorms to deliver their orders. On August 21, a delivery driver in Pingyang collapsed while picking up a food order at a restaurant but insisted on completing the delivery (he was eventually taken to the hospital by ambulance). Other videos on platforms like Douyin show delivery riders breaking down during work.
The pressure they face is real, and the work they do is intense. China’s main food delivery platforms, Meituan and Ele.me, backed by tech giants Tencent and Alibaba, employ a combined 10 million delivery drivers. Their daily work is monitored by algorithmic management tools. The workload is high, the overwork is severe, the income is low, and the conditions are often unsafe.
Most of these workers are lower-educated migrant workers from rural areas who were already in vulnerable positions before taking these jobs. They face challenges such as limited job opportunities, inadequate medical care, poor nutrition, and sometimes language barriers or social alienation in China’s urban jungle.2 The digital control makes their work stressful—a late order or bad review can cost them income.
Recent studies show that these factors make China’s food delivery drivers highly susceptible to anxiety and depression. One study focusing on urban delivery drivers in Shanghai found that 46% of the drivers surveyed reported anxiety symptoms, and 18% experienced depression.3
While the recent Hangzhou incident and other viral moments have drawn attention to the stressful working conditions and weak social status of China’s food delivery workers, a new Chinese movie presents a different perspective on the gig economy.
One of the movie posters for Upstream (2024).
Upstream “逆行人生” (Nìxíng Rénshēng), a movie by director and star actor Xu Zheng (徐峥), was released on August 9. The story revolves around former programmer Gao Zhilei—played by Xu himself—who loses his job and savings. To support his family and ill father, he takes up a job as a delivery worker to survive.
The Chinese title of the movie, 逆行人生, translates to “a life against the current.” The term 逆行 (nìxíng) literally means ‘to go the wrong way’ or ‘to move in the opposite direction,’ and it has been translated as ‘upstream’ in this case. Since early 2020, Chinese state media have used the term 逆行者 nìxíngzhě, “those going against the tide” to refer to frontline workers and everyday heroes who made significant contributions or sacrifices for society, particularly during the pandemic or in emergencies such as forest fires.
Although Upstream does highlight some of the struggles faced by Chinese gig workers, it is largely a feel-good movie that avoids a deeper exploration of the marginalized status and precarious work conditions of gig workers. The title and story align with the narrative promoted by official media about China’s food delivery workers, especially during the pandemic when their work was extra demanding. Instead of lobbying for better labor conditions, they are praised as heroic and altruistic; as noble national heroes who act for the greater good. As one driver quoted in a study by Hui Huang put it: “They treat us as heroes in the media, but as slaves in reality.”4
This sentiment also plays a role in the public’s reception of Upstream, as discussed in a recent article by Sixth Tone. Many feel that the film exploits the struggles of China’s gig workers for entertainment and profit rather than genuinely advocating for their rights and well-being. Turning such harsh realities into a feel-good narrative is seen by some as “the wrong way” rather than “upstream.” Some have even described it as “rich people acting poor and making the poor pay for it.”
One Zhihu user placed the actual film poster next to an alternative version featuring delivery driver Wang in a vulnerable, knee-down position, which powerfully symbolizes how many delivery drivers perceive their weak status in society. The official poster says, “August 9 – auspicious/timely delivery,” while the alternative poster states, “August 12 – delivery not possible.”
Photo uploaded by 芒果味跃迁引擎 on Zhihu
However, there is an upside to the heightened attention on China’s food delivery workers: increased awareness. For example, the absurdity of relying on algorithms for their work is now sparking important discussions.
Delivery algorithms put pressure on riders by calculating precise delivery times based on ideal conditions, leaving little room for traffic delays, staircases, extreme weather, or restaurant preparation times. Riders can get caught in “algorithm traps” (算法陷阱) because the faster they work, the stricter the algorithm tightens delivery windows, and they may face penalties or reduced earnings if they fail to meet the expected times.
The fact that, through Upstream and the Hangzhou incident, people are now acknowledging the pressure that Meituan and Ele.me drivers face under such digital systems is already a big improvement from 2019, when debates centered on whether or not you should say “thank you” to acknowledge the service provided by delivery drivers.
“Maybe some parts of this film don’t fully connect with reality,” author Yan Lingyang (晏凌羊) wrote on Weibo about Upstream: “But under the current system, I think it’s already quite daring. It reflects various issues such as the economic downturn, housing bubbles, corporate burnout [involution], low wages for grassroots workers, lack of rights protection, and algorithm traps.”
Chinese blogger Cui Zijian (崔紫剑) recently also spoke out against the exploitation of drivers by platform companies, arguing that algorithms should be improved and suggesting that delivery riders be included in unions.
While the reception of Upstream and the Hangzhou delivery driver protest might seem to indicate that things are going the wrong way, the increased awareness actually points in the right direction—toward greater understanding of the challenging situation faced by millions of workers.
I’d love to dive deeper into topics such as these that are so relevant in everyday society and show how digital platforms impact the lives of people. Since I’m always reporting the latest trends, it often leaves little room for the more in-depth articles and overviews I’d love to write for you about the issues behind China’s hot topics & tech developments. Because of this, I’ve decided to gradually shift my focus toward deeper dives instead of shorter trend articles for What’s on Weibo. I’ll still provide timely updates on the latest trends through the Weibo Watch newsletter. I’m currently brainstorming how to make this transition, and I’ll keep you involved as I work on continuing to deliver insightful content. Finding the right balance between covering current trends and providing more contextual analyses can be challenging, but I can’t complain—thankfully, no algorithms are chasing me.
Miranda Barnes has contributed to the compilation and interpretation of the topics featured in this week’s newsletter. Ruixin Zhang has authored the insightful fan culture article, and contributed to the word of the week. As always, if you have any observations or ideas you’d like to share, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me.
Best,
Manya Koetse
(@manyapan)
1 The initial story that went viral in WeChat groups (links of screenshots) claimed that the delivery driver was a woman, and that the security guard had forced her to kneel. This detail intensified the outrage. However, it was later revealed that the driver was actually a thin, male worker who knelt voluntarily, in hopes of speeding up the process.
2 See Peng, Yuxun, et al., “Status and Determinants of Symptoms of Anxiety and Depression among Food Delivery Drivers in Shanghai, China,” International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health 19, no. 20 (2022): 1; and Hui Huang, “Riders on the Storm: Amplified Platform Precarity and the Impact of COVID-19 on Online Food-delivery Drivers in China,” Journal of Contemporary China 31, no. 135 (2022): 351, 363.
3 See Peng, Yuxun, et al., “Status and Determinants of Symptoms of Anxiety and Depression among Food Delivery Drivers in Shanghai, China,” International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health 19, no. 20 (2022): 10.
4 See Huang Hui, “Riders on the Storm: Amplified Platform Precarity and the Impact of COVID-19 on Online Food-delivery Drivers in China,” Journal of Contemporary China 31, no. 135 (2022): 363.
What’s New
Ping Pong Fandom | The table tennis final between Chen Meng and Sun Yingsha in Paris exposed troubling fan dynamics, sparking discussions on the clash between fandom culture & the Olympic spirit. Read our latest on the influence of fandom culture in Chinese table tennis 🏓 🔗
The Big Olympic File | Before the Paralympics will start on August 28, time to reflect on what happened during the Olympics. We reported and wrapped it up! Capturing all the must-know medals and online discussions happening on the sidelines of the Olympics, here’s the What’s on Weibo China at Paris 2024 Olympic File.
Medals and Memes | The 2024 Paris Olympics captivated Chinese social media, not just for the gold medal victories but also for the many moments that unfolded on the sidelines. Here are the 10 most popular ones.
The Human Bone Controversy | Chinese online media was flooded with 404 errors earlier this month as many of the articles published about the human bone scandal—where the Chinese company Shanxi Aorui illegally acquired thousands of corpses to produce bone graft materials sold to hospitals—were taken offline. From 2015-2023, Shanxi Aorui forged body donation registration forms and other documents to purchase corpses from hospitals, funeral homes and crematoriums to produce bone implant materials sold to hospitals.
What’s Trending
🐒 Black Myth Wukong
A Chinese game that has been in development for over four years is top trending on Weibo this week. More than that: it’s a national sensation. Black Myth: Wukong (黑神话悟空) was officially released on August 20, surpassing all expectations. Within an hour of its release, it topped the “Most Played” list on Steam, with over 2 million concurrent players.
Developed by Game Science, a startup founded by former Tencent employees, Black Myth: Wukong draws inspiration from the classic Chinese novel Journey to the West. This epic tale, filled with heroes and demons, follows the supernatural monkey Sun Wukong as he accompanies the Tang dynasty monk Xuanzang on a pilgrimage to India to obtain Buddhist sūtras (holy scriptures). The game focuses on Sun Wukong’s story after this journey. Black Myth: Wukong has been such a massive success that anything associated with it is also going viral—a merchandise collaboration with Luckin Coffee sold out instantly.
🥇 Olympic Heroes Hailed at Home
China’s Olympic champions, including Quan Hongchan (全红婵), who we also discussed in our last newsletter, have received warm welcomes home as their hometowns were transformed into temporary pilgrimage sites, complete with medal ceremonies and huge posters. There have been many touching moments during the champions’ return. For example, Boxing Gold medalist Wu Yu jumped into her mom’s arms and cried like a little kid after returning from her Paris adventure.
In addition to the warm receptions in their hometowns, the champions were also honored in Beijing at the Great Hall of the People, where Xi Jinping met with the athletes on August 20 and praised them for their performance and sportsmanship throughout the Paris Games. A related hashtag has garnered 360 million views on Weibo ( #中国体育代表团总结大会举行#)
🚨 Magic Carpet Ride Gone Wrong
The “magic carpet ride” at the popular Detian Waterfall scenic area in Guangxi’s Chongzuo drew significant attention on social media earlier this month after a malfunction led to tragic consequences. This attraction, designed to transport visitors up the mountain as they sit backward on a moving belt, suddenly malfunctioned on August 10, causing passengers to slide uncontrollably downwards (here you can see how the attraction normally operates).
The accident resulted in one tourist’s death and injuries to 60 others. A joint investigation team was established to determine the cause of the incident. Preliminary findings suggest that a steel buckle at the belt’s joint broke, causing the belt to rapidly slide downward. With passengers spaced about a meter apart on the conveyor belt, the sudden movement led to collisions, with some individuals being crushed, particularly at the lower end. Those responsible for the attraction’s operation and maintenance have been detained in accordance with the law for their roles in the incident, which will be further investigated.
🍵 Eileen Gu Controversy
Whether it’s her athletic career or personal life, Eileen Gu (谷爱凌) always seems to find herself trending in China. The American-born freestyle skier and gold medalist who represented China at the 2022 Beijing Olympics sparked discussions during the Paris Olympics due to her connection with Léon Marchand, the renowned French Olympic swimmer. Marchand faced significant backlash on Chinese social media after being accused of ignoring a handshake from Team China’s coach Zhu Zhigen (朱志根). A brief video of the incident went viral, showing the Chinese coach approaching Marchand to congratulate him, only for Marchand to seemingly ignore him and walk away.
Amid the controversy, netizens noticed that Gu, who had previously interacted with Marchand online, deleted her comments on his Instagram, including a compliment on his latest Olympic victory (“incredible”) (#谷爱凌删了给马尔尚的所有ins评论#). However, when videos surfaced of Gu dancing closely with Marchand, she was accused of being two-faced or insincere. While some initially saw her deletion of the interactions as a patriotic gesture, many now believe she was simply being opportunistic.
But Gu is clapping back at her haters, suggesting that she can never please everyone. When someone called her out for being “a traitor” to her country, Gu reportedly replied, “Which one?” The issue of Gu’s nationality has been a somewhat sensitive topic since she first represented China, with many questioning whether she holds a Chinese or American passport (as China does not recognize dual nationality). Gu’s previous statement, “I’m American when in the US and Chinese when in China,” has also triggered dissatisfaction among Chinese audiences. On Instagram, she has now confronted her haters: “In the past five years, I’ve won 39 medals representing China and spoken out for China and women on the world stage. What have the haters done for the country?”
💍 New Marriage Rules
A revised draft regulation on marriage registration introduced by China’s Ministry of Civil Affairs last week has sparked significant online discussion. One notable change is that couples will no longer need their hukou, or household register, to get married. Traditionally, this document is often held by parents, meaning that those who wish to marry had to obtain it—essentially seeking parental approval. By removing this requirement, the process is simplified, giving individuals more freedom to marry, even if their parents disagree.
However, the draft regulation is drawing criticism, primarily due to the inclusion of a 30-day cooling-off period for divorce. This cooling-off period (“冷静期”) allows either party to withdraw their divorce application within 30 days of filing. Although introduced in a draft as early as 2018, it continues to generate debate. Many feel that while the revision appears to grant more freedom in marriage, it restricts the freedom to divorce in a timely manner. Some say this is like a “loose entry, strict exit” (宽进严出) policy, similar to Chinese university admissions. One popular comment called it “fake freedom.” The draft regulation is open for public feedback until September 11.
🚴 Discussions over Cycling Boy’s Death
A tragic incident in Hebei has sparked significant online discussions. In Rongcheng County, an eleven-year-old boy who was cycling with his father in a group of cyclists fell down and was run over by a car coming from the opposite direction. A dashcam video captured the group riding in the middle of the road, leaving the oncoming vehicle with little room or time to avoid the collision. The boy succumbed to his injuries shortly after the accident.
The incident has led to broader debates about the father’s responsibility. According to road safety laws, the eleven-year-old should not have been cycling on a public road, especially not in the middle of it. The situation is further complicated by reports that people had previously warned the father about the dangers of bringing his young son on high-speed cycling trips, warnings which he allegedly ignored. Although the father initially attempted to shift the blame onto the driver for speeding, public opinion has largely condemned him for being irresponsible, with devastating consequences.
🇨🇳 Chinese Flag Controversy
A hotel in Paris, part of a Taiwanese chain, became the center of online attention this August after it failed to include the Chinese flag in its Olympic-themed decorations. The issue was brought to light by a Chinese influencer who posted a video accusing the Evergreen Laurel Hotel (长荣桂冠酒店) of refusing to display the Chinese flag, even after the influencer offered to provide one. The incident sparked significant backlash, leading domestic travel platforms like Ctrip and Meituan to delist the hotel’s booking options, including those at its Shanghai location. The hotel eventually issued an apology, but many netizens found it too vague, as it did not directly address the flag incident, instead focusing on general dissatisfaction with their decorations. The Chinese Embassy in France has since commented on the issue, expressing support for Chinese people, both at home and abroad, in their efforts to “remain united and uphold patriotic values.”
What’s Noteworthy
The WeChat account Zhenguan (贞观) reported on August 16 about a tragic incident involving a 33-year-old woman from a small, impoverished village in Ningxia who died alone in her rented 30th-floor apartment in Xi’an. Her body was not discovered for a long time, and by the time it was found, it had decomposed to the point of being unrecognizable. In the article, titled “A Women From Out of Town Died in the Apartment I Rented Out” (“一个外地女孩，死在了我出租的公寓”), which has since been deleted, a landlord shares their story of how they discovered the single young woman had died inside the studio apartment. The article paints a picture of a once-bright rural girl who became disillusioned as the competitive educational system and the pressures of city life crushed her spirit. The woman, who depended on her family’s financial support, hadn’t ordered or cooked any food for nearly twenty days since she was last seen in May, suggesting she most likely starved to death in her apartment.
The article quickly went viral over the weekend. The incident, which allegedly took place during the summer, resonated with people as they began filling in the gaps of the story with their own interpretations. They felt for the woman, who had worked hard in life but had found herself unable to live up to expectations. Some saw the young woman’s story as a tragic reflection of the struggles in contemporary Chinese society. Some blamed city life, others blamed rural culture. But many also doubted the story’s authenticity.
After Chinese media outlets like Zhengzai Xinwen (正在新闻) began investigating the matter, it was revealed that some details in the story were inaccurate. The incident did not occur in Xi’an but in Xianyang. People from the woman’s hometown mentioned that she was socially withdrawn and may have struggled with mental health issues, though she was never formally diagnosed. Local police did confirm that the incident is real and that it is still under investigation by a local branch of the Xianyang Public Security Bureau. Regardless of the exact circumstances, the woman’s story has struck a chord, with one popular comment on Weibo stating: “There are countless others like her in society who are experiencing the same struggles. No matter what you’re going through, I hope you don’t give up on life.”
What’s Popular
This summer’s Olympic fever in China has been evident across various e-commerce platforms. Whether it was the sudden popularity of Zheng Qinwen’s tennis skirt or the craze over diver Quan Hongchan’s ugly animal slippers, Chinese consumers have eagerly embraced Olympic-themed shopping.
Recognizing the influence of athletes during and after the Olympics, brands have tapped into their potential by launching various collaborations. A particularly successful example is the plush paddles endorsed by Olympic table tennis star Fan Zhendong (樊振东). The 27-year-old national table tennis player, often referred to as the “National Ping Pong God” (国乒男神), not only clinched double gold in Paris but also endorses several brands, including the British Jellycat brand, which created the plush paddle toys.
One popular video shows Fan playing table tennis with the plush paddle toy, which quickly sold out after his Olympic victory. The toy was restocked twice in three days before selling out again. Many commenters praised the toy for being so cute, and in light of Wang Chuqin’s now-famous broken paddle incident, others joked that it’s a good thing the plush paddles are unbreakable.
What’s Memorable
China’s well-known political and social commentator Hu Xijin (胡锡进) has been noticeably absent from Chinese social media for about a month. The former editor-in-chief of the Global Times has not posted on his account since July 27—an extraordinary, unannounced, and unexplained pause from his typically daily social media activity. In light of Hu’s sudden silence, we take a look back eight years into the What’s on Weibo archive, when another social media commentator and real estate tycoon, Ren Zhiqiang (任志强), abruptly went silent, and his account subsequently disappeared.
Weibo Word of the Week
Fan Cultured | Our Weibo word of the week is ‘fan-cultured’ or ‘fandom-ization’ (fànquānhuà 饭圈化). While fànquān 饭圈 literally means “fan circle,” the suffix huà 化 is generally used to indicate a process of transformation or turning into something, similar to the “-ization” suffix in English.
The term fànquānhuà 饭圈化 refers to the recently much-discussed phenomenon where something—often outside the realms of entertainment—receives passionate support from people who begin to form online fan circles around it, changing the dynamics in ways that resemble the relationships between celebrity idols and their fans.
A recent example of something being “fan-cultured” or “fandom-ized” is how fans have started to form extremely strong communities around China’s table tennis stars, defending them as if they were idols. This fan behavior has been criticized by Chinese authorities, who see it as toxic fan culture that goes against the Olympic spirit (read more).
But “fandom-ization” goes beyond sports. There are also strong fan club dynamics surrounding Chinese pandas. Even inanimate objects can become “fan-cultured.” For example, the Little Forklift Truck (小叉车) that was part of the construction of the Huoshenshan emergency specialty field hospital during the early days of the Covid crisis. The construction process was live-streamed, and millions of viewers found the little truck—working tirelessly around the clock—so cute and brave that it became “fan-cultured.”
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China Society
From a Hospital in Crisis to Chaotic Pig Feasts
From 5,000 people crashing a rural pig feast in Chongqing to the collective effort to save Yanran Angel hospital.
🔥 China Trend Watch (1.22.26)
Part of Eye on Digital China by Manya Koetse, China Trend Watch is an overview of what’s trending and being discussed on Chinese social media. The previous newsletter was a deep dive into the Dead Yet? app phenomenon. This edition was sent to paid subscribers — subscribe to receive the next issue in your inbox.
However, there are dozens of other topics being discussed on Chinese social media that actually aren’t about the US or the shifting geopolitical landscape. From football to pig-slaughter feasts, from a Henan grandpa in Paris to the latest birth rates, there is an entire world of topics out there that’s blissfully unconnected to anything happening in Washington or Davos — with many of these discussions signaling bigger social stories unfolding in China today. Let’s dive in.
Quick Scroll
- 🐶 “Eat more dog meat,” a local Community Health Service Center in Ya’an advised in a seasonal health text, suggesting it would help people stay healthy & warm during cold weather. The message sparked controversy among dog lovers online. The center later apologized and issued a corrected version, replacing dog meat with lamb, beef, and chestnuts.
- ⚽ Chinese goalkeeper Li Hao (李昊) is the man of the moment after China’s under-23 national football team beat Vietnam (0-3) and advanced to the final of the AFC U23 Asian Cup. It marks the first time since 2004 that any Chinese men’s national team (at any level) has reached the final of a continental tournament. In the final, China will face Japan.
- 👶 China’s latest birth data for 2025 are in, showing yet another record low. The birth rate fell to 5.63 per 1,000 people, with 7.92 million babies born last year — a 17% year-on-year decline.
- 💸 An “underground” private tutoring operation in Beijing has been hit with a staggering fine of more than 67 million yuan (US$9.6 million) for offering after-school classes without official approval. It’s the highest fine so far under China’s “Double Reduction” policy, introduced in 2021 to curb private tutoring and ease academic pressure on students.
- 🕯️ He Jiaolong (贺娇龙), a Xinjiang local official who was at the forefront of Chinese officials livestreaming & promoting their regions in creative online ways, died this week after a fatal fall from a horse during work-related filming. She was 47 years old.
- 🎭 Another death that trended this week was that of renowned Chinese comedian Yang Zhenhua (杨振华, b. 1936), a crosstalk (相声) artist remembered for his classic performances and widely regarded as a cultural icon.
- 🏛️ A child abuse case that has haunted Chinese netizens for the past two years has come to a close. Xu Jinhua (许金花), the stepmother who tortured and starved her 12-year-old stepdaughter, known as “Qiqi,” to death, was executed on January 20. Xu was sentenced to death in April 2025, and her appeal was rejected last November.
What Really Stood Out This Week
1. Mass Shutdowns of Local Chinese Pig-Slaughter Feasts
Annual pig feasts are traditionally meant to be a source of community bonding and ritual exchange. But for many towns and districts, páozhūyàn (刨猪宴), traditional pig-slaughter feasts, have now become a source of concern, leading to shutdowns of local events across multiple provinces.
The story begins on January 9, when a farmer’s daughter nicknamed Daidai (呆呆) from Hezhou in Chongqing posted a lighthearted message on Douyin asking whether people could help with her family’s pig slaughter, saying her old dad would not be able to hold down the two pigs. In return, she promised to treat helpers to “pork soup and rice,” adding: “To be honest, I just want the road in front of my house to be packed with cars, even more than at a wedding. I want to finally prove myself in the village!”
Two days later, on January 11, when the pig feast took place, Daidai got more than she had asked for. Not only was the road in front of her home packed with cars — the entire village was completely blocked as over 1,000 cars and some 5,000 visitors arrived. With two pigs nowhere near enough, five pigs ended up being slaughtered. Livestreamers flooded the scene, Daidai’s name was quickly trademarked, and before she knew it, she had entered internet history — including her own Baidu page — as the girl who turned a local gathering into a national feast.
Daidai (middle) hadn’t expected her call for help with slaughtering two pigs would end up in 5000 people coming to her town.
By now, the incident has spiraled into a much bigger issue, as others in the Sichuan–Chongqing region want to replicate the viral success of Hechuan, creating chaos and sometimes unsafe situations by turning neighborhood moments into tourist activities. This has led to a series of events being canceled or shut down.
On January 14, a planned páozhūyàn, initiated by local influencer Jia Laolian (假老练) in Longquanyi District in Chengdu, had to be canceled at the last minute after thousands of people registered to attend. On January 17, an online influencer in Caijiagang Subdistrict, Chongqing, also held a free pig-slaughter feast that quickly led to potentially dangerous overcrowding. Police shut it down. Another event took place in Ziyang, where 8,000 people had registered to attend while there were only 200 parking spaces available. There were more.
The current hype surrounding these pig-slaughter events reflects a sense of urban–rural nostalgia for local traditions and human connections, but probably says more about how viral tourism in China has worked since the frenzy surrounding Zibo: at lightning speed, influencers and local tourism bureaus jump onto fast-moving trends, hoping to get their own viral moment and, quite literally, piggyback on it.
While these moments can create a moment of hype, the downsides are clear: a lack of oversight, weak crowd management, intrusion to local communities, and lives being suddenly disrupted. For now, ‘Daidai’ has gained about two million users on her social media account. She says she hopes to do “something meaningful” with her online influence and has become an organic ambassador for Hechuan. At the same time, she also wants some calm after the storm, saying:“The Zhaozhu Yan in Heichuan has concluded successfully. I hope everyone can return to their normal lives. I also hope my parents can go back to their previous life—I don’t want them dragged into the internet world.”
2. How a Hospital Crisis Won China’s Trust
Usually, when news emerges about Chinese celebrities facing debts or court papers, it signals a serious blow to their reputation. But in a case that trended over the past week involving Chinese actor/businessman Li Yapeng (李亚鹏) and singer/pop icon Faye Wong (Wang Fei 王菲), the opposite is true.
Li and Wong were previously married and are parents to a daughter born with a cleft lip and palate. Their experiences in getting treatment and surgery for their daughter led them to become deeply involved with the efforts to help other children. In 2006, they founded the Yanran Angel Foundation (嫣然天使基金). A few years later, they established the Yanran Angel Children’s Hospital (嫣然天使儿童医院), China’s first privately-operated non-profit children’s hospital, providing surgeries, orthodontics, speech therapy, and other support to thousands of children—many of them at no cost for underprivileged families.
For the first ten years that Li and his team leased the hospital location, the landlord provided them with heavily discounted rent as a sign of his goodwill. In 2019, that agreement ended, and the rent doubled to market value at 11 million yuan per year (over US$1.5 million). But then Covid hit, and while the hospital still had all of its staffing and lease costs, surgeries were postponed.
On January 14 this year, Li Yapeng posted a lengthy video on his Douyin account titled “The Final Confrontation” (最后的面对), in which he explains how they fell behind on their rent since 2022, now finding themselves in a debt of 26 million yuan (over US$1.5 million) and facing a court judgement that leaves them with little choice but to vacate the premises and shut the hospital down.
Something that struck a chord with netizens is how Li, who bears joint liability for the unpaid rent, made no excuses and openly acknowledged his legal obligations, while at the same time emphasizing his personal sense of responsibility to ensure that children waiting for surgery would still receive the help that had been promised to them.
Public perception of Li Yapeng, who was previously seen as a failed businessman, transformed overnight. He was suddenly hailed as a hero who had quietly devoted himself to charity all this time, while accumulating personal debts.
Donations started flooding in. Within two days, over 180,000 people had donated a total of 9 million yuan (US$1.3 million), and by January 19 this had grown to more than 310,000 people supporting the hospital with nearly 20 million yuan (US$2.8 million). Beyond direct donations, netizens also supported Li Yapeng by tuning into his e-commerce livestreams. One businessman from Jiangsu even offered 30,000 square meters of free space for the hospital to relocate.
Meanwhile, netizens began wondering why Faye Wong, Li’s ex-wife with whom he had founded the foundation and hospital, was staying quiet. Just as some started to label her a diva who no longer cared about the cause, a 2023 audit report revealed that since divorcing Li Yapeng in 2013, she had been anonymously donating to the fund every year for a decade, totaling more than 32.6 million yuan (US$4.6 million) to cover rent and staff salaries.
There are many aspects to this story that have caused it to go viral, and that make it particularly noteworthy. It is not just the turnaround in public sentiment regarding Li and Faye Wong, but also the fact that people are more willing to donate to a cause they genuinely believe in. Although Li and Wong’s foundation technically falls under the Red Cross system, that organization has faced significant criticism and public distrust in China over the years.
What also helps are the personal stories shared on social media by those who have had direct experience with the hospital, or who know people working there. These include deeply moving accounts from families who saw all their savings depleted while trying to get proper care for their three-year-old child born with a cleft lip, then traveling for days from Gansu to Beijing with little more than a sliver of hope—only to learn that their child would not only receive surgery for free, but that the hospital would also help cover temporary lodging and travel costs. Many feel that causes like this are rare, and deserve to continue.
After years of stories about celebrities evading taxes, good causes misspending money, and corruption getting mixed up with charity, this is a story that restores trust — showing that some celebrities truly care, that some charities do turn every penny into help for those in need, and that netizens can genuinely make a difference. “This is the most heartwarming news at the start of the year,” one Weibo commenter wrote.
For now, it remains unclear whether the hospital can remain at its current location, but operations continue, and negotiations are ongoing. Fundraising has been paused for the time being, as annual donation targets have already been exceeded.
3. The Sudden Death of a 32-Year-Old Programmer and the Renewed Debate Over China’s Tech Overtime Culture
The sudden death of a 32-year-old programmer who worked at a tech company in Guangzhou is sparking discussion these days, as his death is being linked to the extreme overtime work culture in China’s tech sector.
The story is attracting online attention mainly because his wife, using the nickname “Widow” (遗孀), has been documenting her grieving journey on social media, sharing stories about how she misses her late husband and the things she wishes had gone differently. He was always working late, and she often asked him to come home when he still hadn’t returned by 10:00, 11:00 p.m., or even midnight.
Gao Guanghui (高广辉) worked as a software engineer and department manager. Despite his “seriously overloaded” working schedule, his now-widowed wife describes their life together as “very happy.”
On Saturday, November 29, 2025, the day of his passing, Gao mentioned that although he was feeling unwell, he still had work matters with approaching deadlines to handle. Browser records show that he accessed the company’s internal system at least five times that morning before fainting and experiencing sudden urinary incontinence.
While preparing to go to the hospital, Gao reportedly urged his wife to bring his laptop with them so that he could finish his tasks. However, he collapsed before the two had even gotten into the car. Despite an ambulance arriving at 9:14 a.m. and efforts to save him, he passed away two hours later. He died of cardiac arrest, and hospital records note his high-pressure, long-hour work schedule.
Even in the final moments of his life, work continued to intrude. Gao was added to a work WeChat group at 10:48 a.m., while hospital staff were still attempting to resuscitate him. Hours after his death was declared, colleagues continued to send him work messages, including one at 9:09 p.m. asking him to urgently fix an issue.
Making matters worse, Gao’s widow says that in the second week after his death, his company had already processed his resignation and disposed of his belongings. The items that were sent to her were crushed and poorly packed. To this day, she says she has received no apology, no compensation, no replacement items, and none of her husband’s missing belongings.
Visuals dedicated to Gao, shared on Xiaohongshu.
On social media, people are angry. Reading about Gao’s life story — and how he was always a hard worker, sometimes working two jobs at a time — many comments indicate that it is often the most dedicated ones who get pressured the most. They see him as a victim of tech companies like CVTE that go against official guidelines and perpetuate a work culture where working overtime becomes the norm, only leading to more workload.
This is not the first time such a story has gone viral. In 2021, the death of an employee who worked at Pinduoduo triggered similar discussions about strenuous “996” schedules (working 9 a.m. to 9 p.m., six days per week).
Similar deaths include the 2011 case of 25-year-old PwC auditor Pan Jie, whose story went viral on Sina Weibo after doctors concluded that overwork may have played a crucial role in her death. Likewise, the at-desk death of a 24-year-old Ogilvy employee in Beijing and the 2016 death of Jin Bo, deputy editor-in-chief of one of China’s leading online forums, also prompted calls for greater public awareness of the risks of overwork — especially among young professionals.
On the Feed
“Paris Without the Filter”
“Filter-Free Paris,” or “Paris without a filter” (素颜巴黎), unexpectedly went viral after a grandpa from China’s Henan province, traveling with a senior tour group, shared his unfiltered and casual photos of rainy Paris. In an age when European travel photos are often heavily filtered and glamorized on Chinese social media, many found the grandpa’s grey, plain images of the “City of Romance” not only amusing but also refreshingly honest.
Seen Elsewhere
• A Chinese state media editorial framed the Greenland dispute as a “wake-up call” for Europe to reduce its reliance on the US. (CHINA DAILY)
• Why Western “Chinamaxxing” and “very Chinese time” memes say more about a “decay of the American dream” than about China itself. (WIRED)
• WIRED seems to be at a “very Chinese time” itself, and also launched its China issue, introducing 23 ways you’re already living in the ‘Chinese Century.’ (WIRED)
Title/Image via Wired, Andria Lo
• As Trump sows division, China says it’s the calm, dependable leader the world needs. (CNN)
• Nostalgia for the Cultural Revolution has become one of the few legally viable means of resistance, according to Shijie Wang. (CHINATALK)
That’s a wrap! Thanks for reading.
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See you next edition!
— Manya
Eye on Digital China, by Manya Koetse, is co-published on Substack and What’s on Weibo. Both feature the same new content — so you can read and subscribe wherever you prefer. Substack offers community features, while What’s on Weibo provides full archive access. If you’re already subscribed and want to switch platforms, just get in touch for help. If you no longer wish to receive these newsletters, or are receiving duplicate editions, you can unsubscribe at any time.
Chapter Dive
Why Were 100,000 Pregnant Women’s Blood Samples Smuggled Out of China?
How and why fetal sex testing became a national security story
A noteworthy story in Chinese media recently, which also made it to the top trending lists on Kuaishou and Weibo, concerns the uncovering of a widespread criminal network that smuggled blood samples from over 100,000 pregnant women across the border, exposing a black-market chain active across all provinces of China. In this deeper dive, I look at what received far less attention: why so many pregnant women were willing to provide their blood in the first place.
The case was part of a major operation by Guangzhou’s anti-smuggling authorities following a year-long investigation and the mobilization of 265 officers. As part of the operation, two professional criminal groups specializing in the smuggling of pregnant women’s blood samples were dismantled, and a total of 26 people were arrested.
The groups earned a staggering 30 million yuan (US$4.2 million) from their blood-smuggling activities.
So far, the story reads almost like a vampire novel, especially with Chinese media detailing how the blood was smuggled: smugglers reportedly strapped tubes of blood to their bodies to cross the border. Others hid them in specially modified suitcases with concealed compartments.
Some commenters framed the story as the smuggling of “life samples carrying the genetic code of Chinese citizens,” and as the “poaching of ethnic genetic resources,” arguing that the data security implications could be serious if the blood were to be used for research by those with ulterior motives.
Other netizens suggested that “insiders within medical institutions must be involved,” possibly even through broader “cross-border project collaborations.” These suspicions were fueled by official reporting. Overall, the online media discourse surrounding the case focused on the risks these practices pose to national biosecurity, with fears that foreign entities could appropriate China’s human genetic information.
In reality, however, this story is about the widespread demand in China for prenatal blood testing for fetal sex determination.
The groups uncovered by Guangzhou authorities received blood from some 100,000 pregnant women because the women provided it themselves. The groups (illegally) advertised on social media that they offered non-invasive fetal sex identification and genetic disease screening, with clients paying fees of 2,000–3,000 yuan (US$285–US$426) for these blood tests.
According to Guancha.cn, the blood would be drawn by “acquaintances” or through online medical platforms, after which the samples would be mailed by courier to a designated address, where they were collected, concealed by smugglers, and delivered to overseas laboratories for testing.
Smuggled blood as seen in CCTV feature
Although none of the Chinese news reports on this case disclose where these “overseas labs” are actually located, the reports mention cooperation between authorities in Guangzhou, Foshan, and Shenzhen, and the details provided make it highly probable that the case concerns the mainland–Hong Kong border.
In a recent CCTV feature on the news, Zheng Zhong (郑重), Deputy Director of the Investigation Division of the Guangzhou Customs Anti-Smuggling Bureau, said:
“China has explicitly prohibited the determination of fetal sex for non-medical needs, which is a protection of the fetus’s right to life. It is also to maintain a healthy population ratio. Blood sample smuggling poses a high potential risk to public interests and national biosecurity.”
Fetal sex determination has been illegal in China since the first regulation in 1989, with later laws specifically outlawing the use of ultrasound imaging or other techniques to identify fetal sex.
Why Fetal Sex Determination Still Matters
Why did Zheng mention the prohibition of fetal sex determination tests in China to “maintain a healthy population ratio”?
Although abortion has generally been permitted in China—which has one of the most lenient abortion regimes in the world—strict controls on sex-selective abortions have been in place since the early 1990s.
One of the unintended effects of China’s one-child policy since 1979 has been the widespread occurrence of sex-selective pregnancy terminations, linked to traditional son preference. Fetal sex identification has been a precursor to these abortions, contributing to severe distortions in the country’s sex ratio. Non-medical fetal sex identification and sex-selective abortion came to be known as the “two illegitimates.”[1]
Now that China is entering its first decade since the end of the one-child policy, you might expect that these “two illegitimates” have become less pressing issues. After all, with couples now allowed to have more than one child (even three children or more), why would sex determination still be so relevant that 100,000 women would continue to submit blood samples despite the practice officially being illegal?
🔎 In reality, research suggests that the end of China’s one-child policy has not been the turning point it was perhaps expected to be. Although it has reduced pressures, its impact on son preference and sex-selective practices has been somewhat underwhelming.[2]
Since 2016, there has indeed been a rise in daughter preference and gender indifference, as well as a decline in male-to-female sex ratios at birth, but significant regional differences remain and son preference persists, alongside sex-selective abortion.[3] As a result, the sex ratio at birth remains skewed in certain provinces, especially for first births.[4]
👉 So what does this mean in practice? It means that, despite laws and regulations, expecting parents are still eager to find ways to identify fetal sex by whatever means possible (blood-based tests, ultrasound scans), and that agencies able to profit from this desire have been widespread for years.
In provinces like Jiangxi, Fujian, Guangdong, Guangxi, Hubei, and Hunan, which together with Hainan accounted for more than a third of all births in China in 2020, there is still a deeply rooted familism culture and an abnormally high number of male births.[5]
Even though Chinese authorities introduced specific measures more than a decade ago to ban the mailing of blood samples overseas for fetal sex identification, underground networks smuggling fetal blood samples to Hong Kong for gender testing have been rampant—and this goes well beyond 100,000 samples.
Framing Pregnant Women’s Blood Smuggling in Chinese State Media
It is noteworthy that Chinese coverage of this case leaves out issues related to fetal sex selection, the persistence of sex-selective practices in post–one-child China, and parents’ willingness to learn the sex of their fetus to such an extent that they are prepared to pay large sums of money for this information.
In the 8-minute CCTV feature on this case, as well as in other reports, the core narrative centers on how an organized criminal network that endangered national biological security by illegally smuggling pregnant women’s blood samples was successfully dismantled by Chinese authorities through state surveillance and coordinated law enforcement.
China has, in fact, strict laws on the protection of human genetic resources. Since 2019, regulations have specifically prohibited foreign entities from collecting genetic material within China and restricted the transfer of genetic material and related data out of China. Any research involving Chinese human genetic resources must be conducted through approved collaboration with a qualified Chinese institution (see China Law Translate).
In the CCTV report, fetal sex identification is mentioned only briefly: first, in describing how the criminal group attracted customers online, and second, by Zhong, to emphasize that the practice is illegal. This framing places the entire issue within the domains of legality, regulation, and security, while the ethical, socio-cultural, and gender dimensions that lie at the root of the practice are entirely ignored.
Word cloud generated with the assistance of AI, based on the fully transcribed and translated text of the main CCTV investigative report on the blood-smuggling case.
Instead, the case is narrated using dominant language such as “blood smuggling,” “genetic resources,” and “security.” This framing has led to some confusion online. One of the most popular search queries related to the story on Weibo was: “What is the purpose of smuggling pregnant women’s blood samples abroad?” (孕妇血液样本走私境外目的是什么).
On Xiaohongshu, some commenters similarly asked: “I just don’t understand what pregnant women’s blood is used for.” Another user replied: “They can extract genetic codes, create a virus, and kill us with it.”
There are, however, many commenters who directly connect the case to its underlying issue. One woman on Xiaohongshu asked: “Isn’t it possible to tell [the fetus’s sex] just by doing a B-ultrasound? Why would they spend so much money to draw blood?” Another commenter replied: “It takes several months before you can do an ultrasound. A blood test is faster, and you can know the result before the abortion deadline.” (In some regions of China, non-medical abortions are not permitted after 14 weeks of pregnancy.)
Demographic Anxiety and Shifts in Narratives
Chinese headlines about the uncovering of the blood-smuggling operations appeared in the same week when netizens discussed unofficial reports about China’s 2025 estimated birth rates, suggesting that the country’s fertility rate will hit another historic low and fall to second-lowest in the world (higher only than South Korea), with a total fertility rate of about 1.09.
“Let people with money have kids,” some commenters suggested. “Right now, it’s hard for young people to get a job. When you can’t even find a job, who would think of having kids?”
Another person on Weibo wrote: “I’m part of the elite social class with a PhD degree, and yet I’m miserable. I’m pessimistic and disappointed about the future. I won’t have kids, won’t buy [a house], and won’t get married.”
Over the past years, and especially recently, Chinese authorities have introduced numerous measures in attempts to boost the country’s birth rates, from child-rearing subsidies to taxes on contraceptives.
In this light, tackling illegal practices involving fetal sex identification is more relevant than ever—and pushing such news to the top of China’s trending lists, together with frightening narratives about blood thieves and biosecurity risks, serves as a warning as much to smugglers as to expecting mothers not to engage in such practices. In this context, expecting parents would not only be crossing legal red lines by testing the sex of their unborn child, but would also be framed as handing over China’s national DNA to potential foreign enemies.
🔴 In doing so, Chinese official narratives shift, yet also fall back into old habits: at a time when fertility is dramatically dropping and confidence among young people in love & marriage is eroding, the state does more than regulate or guide ideas about family planning and fetal sex determination; it changes the meanings attached to it.
But there’s also a side effect to these stories. Because official news coverage presents the case as one of potential risks of Chinese genetic data being stolen, while largely leaving out the relevant social context, some ordinary Chinese netizens have begun to worry about what happens to their blood samples at hospitals once they leave their check-up appointments.
“Can they profit from it?” some wonder, while others worry about unintentionally contributing to future biological warfare.
Ultimately, the story of “blood smuggling” is not just about smugglers or overseas laboratories. It is about how, in an era of increasing demographic anxiety, reproductive behavior is increasingly reframed through the language of security.
Luckily, many genuinely don’t see what all the fuss is about: “People would really smuggle pregnant women’s blood abroad for what? Is it really so important to know whether you’re having a boy or a girl?”🔚
📌🎬 Although I also published last week, I didn’t send that article as a newsletter. So, in case you missed it, here’s a short recap: the past year has been a tumultuous one for China’s entertainment industry, and especially for renowned director Wong Kar-wai. After the success of the TV drama Shanghai Blossoms, a former screenwriter accused Wong and his team of discrediting, exploiting, and abusing him.
The case was already explosive, but it became even more sensitive when audio recordings were leaked in which Wong criticised the Party. Almost any other celebrity would likely have been blacklisted for such remarks, yet Wong seems to have escaped that fate. Why? You can explore the case in this in-depth article by Ruixin Zhang. It’s worth the read.
👉 This piece is part of Chapters, the format I use for deeper, more analytical pieces. Alongside Chapters, I also publish Signals, which tracks slower-moving shifts in Chinese online culture and digital life, and China Trend Watch, which offers a regular overview of what has been trending across China’s digital platforms. Keep an eye on the upcoming editions to follow the thread.
By Manya Koetse
(follow on X, LinkedIn, or Instagram)
[1] Ruby Lai Yuen Shan, “The Transformation of Abortion Law in China,” in Research Handbook on International Abortion Law, edited by Mary Ziegler (Cheltenham, UK: Edward Elgar Publishing, 2023), 172–73.
[2] Xinyi Zhang, “Estimating the Effect on the Sex Ratio of the Two-Child Policy: Evidence from China,” Proceedings of the International Conference on Social Psychology and Humanity Studies 9 (2023): 1–8.
[3] Li Mei and Quanbao Jiang, “Sex-Selective Abortions over the Past Four Decades in China,” Population Health Metrics 23, no. 6 (2025): 1–16.
[4] Mengjun Tang and Jiawei Hou, “Changes of Sex Ratio at Birth and Son Preferences in China: A Mixed Method Study,” China Population and Development Studies 8 (2024): 1–27.
[5] Tang and Hou, “Changes of Sex Ratio at Birth,” 4–5.
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