On March 15, 2014, the new Consumer Rights Protection Law officially came into effect. It stipulates that regardless of the reason, as long as online purchased goods are unused and do not affect resale, they can be returned or refunded within seven days of receipt without providing a reason, with some special products excluded.
Why am I bringing up refunds? Good news for the "family members" who just bought items from "Gazi Brother's" livestream: "Gazi Brother" was administratively detained for seven days for wearing clothing with obvious police insignia while livestreaming sales. He simply didn't have time to handle the backend of his livestream shop—perfectly dodging the seven-day no-reason return policy, maximizing the entertainment value.
Mentioning "Gazi Xie Mengwei," surely everyone is familiar. He became famous for playing Zhang Ga in the TV series "Little Soldier Zhang Ga," earning the title "Gazi Brother." Later, due to recklessly exploiting nostalgia and poor product selection in his sales, he became the Xie Mengwei whom Panzi described as "unable to handle it." Finally, the police bulletin mentioned above turned him into "Xie So-and-So"—the sales world lost a big star, while the "prison-bound" community welcomed a new character.
The incident occurred a few days ago. Xie Mengwei opened his livestream as usual, refuting the increasing comments from "anti-fans" and "online haters," while offering heavily discounted deals to the eager "family members" in his chat.
But his attire seemed a bit unusual... Friends who are frequent visitors to the station might have noticed: why does this outfit look so much like police gear?
Although Xie Mengwei wearing this outfit gave him an aura resembling a security guard—after all, he previously had the famous scene of portraying a tough guy with a sniper rifle, only to end up stealing a Dog.exe and being chased—a closer look reveals that both the shoulder epaulets and the text on the arm patch confirm this attire is indeed a police uniform.
Xie Mengwei's explanation was that it was a "costume for filming a movie"—at the time, he was participating in the shooting of a film about drug enforcement.
However, introductions to the movie and his attire occupied only a small part of his livestream. For most of the broadcast, he was trying to prove to "anti-fans" and "online haters" that the products Xie Mengwei sold were problem-free, and that those criticizing him online were just idiots leeching off his traffic.
Special mention to a Bilibili uploader who professionally analyzes films and TV shows featuring Xie Mengwei
In Xie Mengwei's logic, since he participated in a provincial department's key project, he is a positive figure, and products promoted by positive figures cannot have issues. Furthermore, he wore this police uniform—wearing such attire requires passing political vetting. Since he could wear it, he must have no blemishes. And if he has no blemishes, the products he sells certainly have none either.
I believe you've already spotted the logical fallacy in his argument. If not, don't worry, the backlash returned at light speed. Regarding the "blemish" aspect, Xie Mengwei was administratively detained for seven days, earning a title in the "prison-bound" community. By any standard, this is a blemish—unless he comes out and shamelessly uses it for promotion. As for the "key project," according to Oriental Finance, the producer of the movie "Narcotics Storm" confirmed that Xie Mengwei's scenes would be removed and required reshooting.
In short, during that livestream, Xie Mengwei was merely using the projects he participated in and the police uniform he wore to justify his sales pitch—essentially borrowing authority to boost his credibility, which ultimately resulted in legal penalties.
But... why did Xie Mengwei do this? Does he really lack basic common sense? It's not just that. Looking back at Xie Mengwei's recent sales controversies, we can find many clues. People often emphasize what they lack most. Xie Mengwei had such significant issues with his sales that he used the police uniform to compensate, insisting he had no problems.
In recent months, Xie Mengwei has gained enormous attention—even more than during the initial "Pan-Gazi Friendship" or "Gazi Stealing Dogs" incidents. The most标志性 event was the "Coolpad Phone Incident."
Speaking of this incident, we must discuss another familiar internet celebrity, "Anti-Fraud Old Chen."
Anti-Fraud Old Chen was originally a police officer promoting anti-fraud awareness. He gained popularity by connecting with viewers via livestream to share anti-fraud knowledge. After becoming viral, he chose to resign and focus on public welfare. Unfortunately, his simple influencer status did not garner much attention for his anti-fraud campaigns. Consequently, Old Chen's popularity waned repeatedly, leaving him to resort to "publicly appealing to police forces nationwide for a job" to capture final bits of traffic.
However, on the internet, as long as you can persist, there is always a chance for a comeback. During this period, Anti-Fraud Old Chen found a new niche—helping others make "public call-outs." When fans encountered disputes while shopping in certain livestreams, Old Chen would help by filming "call-out" videos to assist them in defending their rights. This served as a form of public opinion supervision, akin to another version of the popular Ze Ge.
Usually, these incidents were resolved satisfactorily, with consumer rights largely upheld. This success led Anti-Fraud Old Chen further down this new path, overcoming obstacles until he finally faced the one true god of the counterfeit goods world, "Gazi Brother" Xie Mengwei.
At this moment, Xie Mengwei was promoting a phone from Coolpad. As he himself said, "Gazi Brother selling alcohol made him famous nationwide; Gazi Brother selling phones made him famous worldwide." The label "many reports" in his livestream was the best badge of honor.
As expected, this phone priced at 699 yuan was obviously overpriced, under-specced, and a rip-off. The model could not be found on the official website, clearly indicating it was some obscure scam phone.
Consequently, the matter reached Anti-Fraud Old Chen, who was actively engaging in public call-outs. These two internet veterans, having experienced their own rises and falls, found their paths crossing. Old Chen took on a significant task: publicly demanding an explanation from Coolpad's official account regarding the existence of this phone.
But probably no one expected that after selling fake goods for years, Gazi's only sale of genuine products got him caught by Old Chen; or that Coolpad's official account, inactive for three years, would overnight list the same phone model Gazi promoted—the phone was indeed an official Coolpad product, but it was a livestream-exclusive item. Although the price-performance ratio was low, it was a case of willing buyer, willing seller.
The dramatic ending allowed both Old Chen and Xie Mengwei to reap massive traffic. Old Chen continued his public call-outs, posting seven videos targeting Coolpad; meanwhile, Xie Mengwei regained popularity, welcoming a batch of online haters into his livestream.
Normally, Xie Mengwei's livestream should be filled with his "family members," attracted by the "Gazi" identity and easily swayed by the streamer's extravagant discount pitches and emotional mini-dramas that prompt spending. However, this surge in popularity allowed more thrill-seekers to witness the astonishing "wisdom" Xie Mengwei displayed in his livestream.
For instance, when he was promoting Pepsi-Cola in his livestream and claiming to offer the lowest price online, someone pointed out via danmu (bullet comments) that "other platforms are cheaper." In response, Xie Mengwei sharply retorted, "Have you ever even drunk Pepsi?" and unleashed a barrage of "elegant" insults like "Dog.exe basket."
Take selling laundry detergent, for example. To demonstrate its stain-removing power in cold water hand-washing conditions, the livestream assistant vigorously scrubbed clothes in a basin, then performed a magic trick on the spot by blatantly taking the clothes off-screen and pulling out a new pair—not only was the color slightly different, but even the LOGO had shrunk from washing.
You treat the streamer as a brother, but the streamer treats you like air. After years of exaggerated performances and exposure by countless onlookers in the chat, Xie Mengwei is gradually exhausting the trust his "family members" placed in him. He wants to rebuild that trust and, more importantly, monetize it—and we have seen the ultimate means he employed to achieve this.
He wore a police uniform to legitimize himself, using so-called "key projects" and "passed political vetting" to assure everyone that the products he sold were problem-free. But he forgot that being part of a key project doesn't mean he represents the entire project; passing political vetting and wearing a police uniform doesn't grant him the right to profit from it.
Anti-Fraud Old Chen begins the pursuit
However, he has grown accustomed to it. Once, he branded himself with the character "Gazi," leveraging that identity to gain immense attention and become the popular influencer Xie Mengwei. Now, he draped a police uniform over his shoulders, using the title of "key project" to endorse his identity, only to end up as "Xie So-and-So" in a police bulletin. The methods were identical, but the outcomes vastly different—after all, this time he crossed from moral issues into legal territory.
Actually, from Panzi's remark that "the waters of the internet are deep, you can't handle it," to Panzi personally entering the fray to sell alcohol in the infamous "Pan-Gazi Friendship," and then to Xie Mengwei delivering the mysterious performance of "Gazi Stealing Dogs"... there were countless moments where Xie Mengwei could have stopped exploiting his fame and reevaluated his identity as an influencer.
But before truly falling, no one knows how far the cliff is ahead—unless they never step onto the path called "internet celebrity."
Thus, we witnessed a livestreamer in a police uniform getting arrested, saw online accounts banned, and observed the birth of a new star in the "prison-bound" community.
No one knows where Xie Mengwei will go after serving his seven-day detention, but the phrase "I have no blemishes" is likely something he can never say again.