Behind the Livestream Drama: What the Dong Yuhui vs. Nie Shengzhe Feud Reveals About China’s Digital Culture

 Author: Song Shiqiang

 

The online feud between Dong Yuhui and Nie Shengzhe is finally winding down. That’s the nature of internet culture — a new controversy rises every few days, pushing the previous one into obscurity, much like waves endlessly crashing onto the shore.

As for me, Song Shiqiang from Shenzhen’s iconic Huaqiangbei electronics market, I’ve never been one to chase internet trends for clicks. For one, my reflections on the unique spirit and business culture of Huaqiangbei already have a loyal audience. And besides, for over a decade I’ve consistently invested in promoting my brands — Kinghelm and Slkor (www.kinghelm.net) — across platforms like Baidu and Google. I don’t need viral drama to stay visible.

That said, observing this public clash, I’ve noticed certain patterns and underlying dynamics worth sharing. They reveal much about modern digital culture, social sentiment, and how public opinion sways in today’s hyper-connected world. I hope my thoughts can offer a little clarity and provoke deeper reflection in these restless times — echoing Nie Shengzhe’s words: “May all people live with dignity and prosperity, and may future generations find their path in a brighter world.”

 

 

The public spat between Dong Yuhui and Nie Shengzhe has ignited a fierce debate among their respective supporters, with both camps drawing clear battle lines. Dong Yuhui’s followers — largely made up of middle-aged and retired women — have channeled the same fervor they bring to their daily square-dancing sessions into this online fray. As always, Dong masterfully casts himself as the underdog, all while profiting handsomely from the traffic, reaching out with tearful eyes and a steady hand toward the wallets of his loyal “auntie army.”

Nie Shengzhe, meanwhile, has faced a tougher battle — his account silenced and banned, yet quietly gathering the backing of a different kind of supporter: well-educated, economically established individuals who value logic over emotional theatrics. I noticed Professor Zheng from Tsinghua University’s School of Economics and Management openly voicing support for Nie, and even Huaqiangbei influencer “Tom Zhang” livestreamed to stand by his side. And to be clear — your friend Uncle Song from Huaqiangbei is also on Team Nie.

The contrast between their fanbases is telling. Dong Yuhui commands a huge following, with reports suggesting as much as 84% of his supporters are housewives and retirees. The rise of mobile internet has given this demographic a platform and a voice equal to that of younger, urban, and professional groups — what I see as a classic case of technological empowerment leveling the discourse.

However, this audience often engages on a surface level, driven by emotion rather than analysis. While they may not hold formal positions of power, they wield significant influence within their families, controlling decisions about daily household expenses — precisely the market Dong Yuhui’s livestreamed knick-knacks target. To maintain this grip, he continuously delivers feel-good “toxic positivity” and light entertainment, offering his followers a kind of modern “bread and circuses.”

In a market flooded with emotional sales tactics and nostalgia-driven narratives, Dong’s  business thrives on the unwavering support of his “mothers-in-law army.” It reminds me of an old saying in the sales world: “You don’t earn money from the elderly — you extract it.” Watching this play out, you begin to realize why certain health product peddlers have stayed in business for decades.

 

 

I stand with Nie Shengzhe. Though his supporters are few and his critics many, history reminds us that meaningful progress has always been driven by a courageous, outspoken minority. Nie may lack polish — speaking bluntly, sometimes even with a spit — but he’s principled, speaks uncomfortable truths, and lives for more than just personal gain. He’s a man of integrity and grit.

I believe that if crisis ever struck our nation or people, it wouldn’t be the smooth-talking influencers or traffic-chasers like Dong Yuhui leading the charge. It would be people like Nie Shengzhe — and myself, Song Shiqiang — standing at the front lines, protecting our employees, defending our homeland, and fighting for what’s right, whatever the cost.

A healthy society requires critical voices. A nation where no one dares to challenge the status quo cannot thrive. Business models built on emotional manipulation and exploiting information gaps may succeed temporarily, but they can’t endure.

That’s why, from the heart of Huaqiangbei, Uncle Song sends this reflection — not just to Dong Yuhui, but to anyone who values reason over noise, and principle over profit.

 

 

Let’s be honest — Zhang Zai’s famed Four Sentences of Hengqu are the classic embodiment of empty rhetoric. For centuries, these lofty ideals served as tranquilizers for scholars under the Cheng-Zhu Neo-Confucian orthodoxy in the Song Dynasty. Nice words, no actionable blueprint. No one, past or present, has truly shown how to live by them.

The rift between Dong Yuhui and Nie Shengzhe began when Dong’s benefactor, Yu Minhong, endured a wave of brutal online harassment. As a public figure who owes his platform and fortune to Yu Minhong, Dong Yuhui remained silent. Not a word in defense, no show of backbone. He built his success on Yu’s shoulders, yet when it counted, he chose cowardice over character.

It’s a moral and ethical failing — and that’s precisely what infuriated Nie Shengzhe. Dong recites phrases like “set one’s heart for the universe” to charm his fanbase of square-dancing aunties, but couldn’t muster a simple, decent stand for his mentor. That’s indefensible on every level.

As for me — I was once a starry-eyed literary youth chasing dreams of poetry and prose, before life’s practicalities pulled me down to earth. I stopped chasing illusions, rolled up my sleeves, and built a semiconductor business, SLKOR (www.slkormicro.com), from scratch. My humble highlight? Sponsoring a few Kinghelm umbrellas so I could give a talk at Huaqiangbei’s tech forum.

What’s real contribution? Giving employees a raise. Creating a job. Paying more tax to the community. Not hollow slogans about “saving the world.” The Dong Yuhuis of the world are polished egoists — loud when it’s easy, silent when it matters. The Nie Shengzhes are the voices we need: unrefined, critical, and unafraid to challenge a system propped up by empty optimism and cheap theatrics.

As economist Hayek warned, “the road to hell is paved with good intentions.” Feel-good platitudes, “bread and circuses,” and performative positivity don’t drive societies forward — principled dissent does.

And if Dong didn’t sell those farm goods, another vendor would. But brave, truth-speaking intellectuals like Nie Shengzhe? They’re rare. And so are the stubborn old bosses like me, standing by them.

 

 

If you want to truly understand someone, don’t just listen to what they say — watch what they do. In today’s world, too many people say one thing and live another. Some loudly condemn the West while quietly sending their families, assets, and fortunes overseas. They shout anti-American slogans by day, but their children attend US schools, their homes sit in California, and their money rests safely in offshore accounts. “Sima Jiatou” is a textbook case of this hypocrisy.

On the other hand, there are those who don’t bother with empty rhetoric. They speak plainly, using honest, human language to advocate for ordinary people and call out social issues as they are. Intellectuals and public figures like Zhang Weiying, Xu Xiaonian, Nie Shengzhe, and Yu Minhong belong to this rare group. They refuse to peddle illusions, choosing instead to confront uncomfortable truths — for the good of the nation and the people.

These are the people I, Song Shiqiang from Huaqiangbei, truly respect.

 

 

Mr. Song Shiqiang is the General Manager of both Slkor Semiconductor and Kinghelm Electronics, a registered expert with the China Electronics Society, a recognized researcher on Shenzhen’s Huaqiangbei electronics market, and a respected columnist and popular science writer. Rising from a grassroots technician to CEO of a publicly listed international real estate company, Mr. Song brings a rare combination of technical expertise, operational leadership, and strategic business acumen. By integrating macroeconomic theory with practical management, he has successfully guided his companies through rapid, sustainable growth.

Under his leadership, Shenzhen-based Slkor Semiconductor and Kinghelm Electronics — both certified National High-Tech Enterprises — have built strong international reputations. Their respective brands, SLKOR (www.slkormicro.com) and Kinghelm (www.kinghelm.com.cn), are gaining increasing recognition in global markets.

Slkor Semiconductor specializes in R&D of next-generation materials, processes, and products, with a technical team comprising experts from Yonsei University and Tsinghua University. The company leads in advanced Silicon Carbide (SiC) MOSFET technology and has expanded from a fabless design house into a vertically integrated business, covering design, R&D, manufacturing, sales, and technical support services. Slkor is also an active member of the Shenzhen Electronics Chamber of Commerce.

 

 

Shenzhen Kinghelm Electronics Co., Ltd. draws its core technology foundation from prestigious institutions like Tsinghua University and the University of Electronic Science and Technology of China. With over a decade of deep expertise in microwave RF technology, Kinghelm is a trusted leader in the industry. The company is an active member of the China Satellite Navigation and Positioning Association, the China Information Industry Chamber of Commerce, and the Guangdong Connector Industry Association. Kinghelm offers a comprehensive range of products, including RF antennas, connectors, terminals, wire harness assemblies, and customized non-standard solutions tailored to meet diverse client needs.