In the early hours of June 18, 2025, the gem of China's intangible abstract heritage on the internet, the clan leader of the Flavor Truth Tribe, the spokesperson for Henan Braised Jelly, the Crusher of Little Stars, the Fattest Hiker in Sanya, and the Number One Fitness Walker with an Electric Tricycle, Big Stomach Bag Liangzi, was about to face his "Grand Finale" in front of over five thousand viewers in his livestream.
Helping the tricycle lose weight.
During the livestream, Liangzi, who claimed to weigh 360 jin (180 kg), went to get a glass of water but suddenly clutched his stomach and collapsed in front of the camera, grunting heavily. With every breath, he let out a long, wailing cry. His eyes narrowed into slits, cold sweat covered his forehead, his brows were tightly furrowed, and he muttered, "Oh wow, I feel so terrible. Even with the AC set to 18 degrees, I'm still breaking out in cold sweat. My brain hurts, the back of my head hurts."
Liangzi groaned while suspecting that this was caused by drinking too much sugary water during lunch.
Blame the fans for buying him a huge pile of drinks. He drank five or six bottles at noon. When he got home in the afternoon, there were still thirteen bottles left. It was hot, there was no air conditioning, and his mouth was dry. He was too thirsty! So he chugged several more big bottles of Sprite. In total, he drank about ten bottles throughout the day.
While saying these words, Liangzi's panting stopped, his complexion became rosy, and the corners of his mouth curved into an arc mixed with accomplishment and happiness. Then, as if suddenly remembering he was about to die, he hastily added, "And then my brain really hurt, and I slept until past ten o'clock." His expression tightened again, but the wiped-away cold sweat did not reappear.
Image sourced from archives, unrelated to that noon.
At this moment, someone in the livestream sent a gift. As a qualified professional streamer, Liangzi maintained his professionalism. Even on the verge of death, he didn't forget to thank his fans for their support: "Fan friends, thank you for the drinks you sent this afternoon. They were so powerful they gave me a headache..."
Perhaps his empty stomach remembered the taste of sugary water. Liangzi could no longer control his expression. The "man near death" grinned broadly in relief. But then, as if remembering something, he thought: Wait, I'm supposed to be on the verge of death right now.
So, he suddenly started grunting, coughing incessantly, convulsing all over, making grotesque faces, furrowing his brows tightly, sweating profusely, breathing rapidly, flushing red, dry heaving repeatedly, acting vividly and realistically, as if he were truly about to die.
While dying, he cried out that his stomach was bloated and painful. After saying this, he seemed to realize something, paused, and changed his wording.
"My stomach bag is bloated and painful."
This is all about the actor's self-cultivation.
Unfortunately, there were still many ignorant people in the livestream questioning the authenticity of Liangzi's "Grand Finale." Liangzi was heartbroken by this. He struggled to reach out towards the camera lens, loudly protesting: "If I'm faking it, I'm a Dog.exe, not a human... Oh wow, I don't want to die, I don't want to die..."
Then, he yawned.
It seems this arm-raising exercise already touched his threshold, making him sleepy. Extreme sports sector.
This shot could win a Pulitzer Prize, fam.
Seeing Liangzi's miserable state on the verge of death, the "doctor gods" in the chat expressed their inability to watch and offered their own prescriptions. Some suggested he drink more cola to replenish himself, others suggested he order some takeout to nourish his body. But Liangzi's favorite prescription came from the top donor who spent 600 yuan on a Super Chat (SC).
"Does Liangzi have something on his mind? Bros, let's treat you to a buffet outside."
It was already 1:26 AM. Obviously, there were no buffets open on the street at that hour. Nevertheless, this prescription acted like a cardiac stimulant, pulling Liangzi, who was half in the grave, back from the brink of life and death. Seeing the orange SC, Liangzi immediately stared blankly, beamed with joy, his cheeks turned rosy, he clasped his hands in salute, and even stood up for the first time in ages, performing a belly dance...
The dying Liangzi disappeared, and the Liangzi we are familiar with returned.
That day's livestream ended with the usual "Beauty vs. Wild Boar" PK battle and "small frequent meals." By the end of the broadcast, he had consumed five buckets of instant Lanzhou beef noodles plus half a watermelon.
Such a rich flavor!
At the end of the livestream, he solemnly swore: Other mukbang streamers eat without gaining weight because they fake eating or vomit after going offline. I, Liangzi, absolutely do not vomit; I rely purely on digestion. This is guaranteed to be true because he only secretly eats after going offline.
The expectations of the five thousand-plus viewers in the livestream were dashed—Liangzi's "Grand Finale" for his big stomach bag ultimately did not arrive. However, they were also certain that the inevitable end had moved one step closer to Liangzi.
The next day, numerous video sites were flooded with clips titled "The Episode Where Liangzi Came Closest to His End." This fed countless clip compilers ("pig herders") while adding another significant chapter to his voluminous history of abstract behavior.
Without exaggeration, Liangzi's livestream that day can be called a miracle in the world of abstract culture. I say this for at least two major reasons.
First, the fact that this sloppy guy Liangzi is still alive.
Let me clarify beforehand, this is not an insult or mockery, but simply an astonishment at objective facts. As early as last July, the scale in Liangzi's home broke under the weight and passed away from us. To accurately calculate his net weight, Liangzi went to a nearby melon stall and sat on the platform scale used for weighing watermelons.
The platform scale measures in kilograms. To convert "kilograms" to "jin," the vendor set a unit price of 2.00 yuan per kilogram for Liangzi, resulting in a total price of 383.60 yuan.
Friends, let's do an elementary school arithmetic problem.
Known facts: Liangzi weighed 383.60 jin (approx. 191.8 kg) on the scale last year. In the nearly one year since, he has maintained an extremely high-intensity eating pace. The meal shown at the beginning of that livestream was actually one of Liangzi's more restrained ones.
Question: What is Liangzi's approximate current weight?
The answer is that there is insufficient information to solve the problem. Because no one knows whether the melon stall owner was using a rigged scale that only registers 80% of the actual weight, meaning the original data might need to be divided by 0.8.
Online, there is a widely circulated "Liangzi Fasting Blood Glucose Chart." For reference, the normal fasting blood glucose range for humans is 3.9–6.1 mmol/L, while the value in the chart shockingly reaches 30. Regrettably, although this number is quite legendary, I must debunk it.
First, there is no evidence linking this out-of-context blood glucose meter image to Liangzi. Second, given Liangzi's weight and level of insulin resistance, his fasting blood glucose is likely much higher than this number. Finally, you cannot assume Liangzi was fasting. While Liangzi's fasting blood glucose might be 30, it is unlikely that Liangzi was ever truly fasting.
And this is precisely the reason why countless livestream viewers are convinced that Liangzi's "end is near."
Judging from the leaked physiological data, it would not be surprising if Liangzi faced his "Grand Finale" at any time. Liangzi's legendary status lies precisely in this. An ordinary person might have passed away due to various complications caused by overweight before even reaching Liangzi's current physique. The fact that Liangzi can still see today's sun is largely thanks to his excellent fat-resistant genes.
However, if it were just simple obesity, it wouldn't be enough to explain the strange spectacle of thousands of viewers in Liangzi's livestream eagerly waiting for the "Grand Finale Celebration." There are countless fat guys in the world, so why is only Liangzi attacked so heavily?
Everythinggj has its cause and effect, and abstraction is no exception; it cannot arise out of thin air.
Just as the fully insured semi-truck heading towards Lili started with his foul mouth and fake hiking, and the disappearance of "Rolling Log" stemmed from Otter promoting betel nuts in his livestream, the feats that pushed Liangzi into the abstract dye vat were far more than just his fake hike to Sanya where he got hit by a car, or staying idle at home beating his mother.
In the article earlier this year titled "Liangzi Seen by Netizens Becomes David Dai with a 200kg Big Stomach Bag," we reviewed in detail Liangzi's glorious journey from 200 jin to 200 kg, so we won't repeat it here. The only thing we need to know is that what truly distinguishes Liangzi from other heavyweight streamers is his extraordinary ability to "reconcile" (or perhaps the thickness of his skin).
On the internet, every streamer will, to some extent, experience being broken down by their own abstract memes, struggling to fight back against netizens, but ultimately inevitably reconciling with them and merging into one. To reconcile with the "suspender pants basketball" meme, Cai Xukun took three years; Changshu Arno took two years to accept that he had a pointy shape on his head. But when it comes to Liangzi, the answer given is "eat it instantly."
You see, "Big Stomach Bag" is obviously not a complimentary term. Its birth is inseparable from Liangzi's obesity, stubbornness, and shamelessness. Yet Liangzi can burdenlessly crown the word "Stomach Bag," originally used for attack, mockery, and teasing, onto his account IDs on all platforms, thus becoming "Liangzi Himself: The Stomach Bag Sector."
When people mocked his "weight-loss squat dance" as "violating air," he brought in a team to transform this dance into the fully copyrighted "Stomach Bag Dance." He crowned himself the "Founder of the Stomach Bag Dance" and even filmed an official tutorial video.
When people joked that his Suzuki Beidouxing car (nicknamed "Little Star") couldn't support his weight and was pressed down by Liangzi, he filmed an abstract video titled "Stomach Bag Rapes the Minivan," perfectly paying homage to "Plants vs. Zombies."
When people exposed him for faking exercise while secretly eating, he simply stopped pretending. He directly filmed a short video titled "Life in Motion," starting to torment his electric tricycle. Look, the tricycle is moving, Liangzi riding it is a life form also in motion, and the yellow Dog.exe in the background wagging its tail is also in motion. Who says Liangzi doesn't exercise?
Therefore, we really can't blame everyone for being too aggressive. Liangzi's three-dimensional defense is invincible. The only gap left in this "turtle shell," the only way to break Liangzi's defense, is the issue of life and death.
Although Liangzi once boldly claimed, "I'll eat until I die," when his body truly expanded day by day to an irreversible extent, he still felt fear in his heart. Whenever the chat or SC reminded him that he wouldn't have many years left if he continued eating like this, his answer was always, "Bro, you're talking nonsense. My expectation is always to live between 85 and 93 years old."
He claims he doesn't have diabetes, that his weight has never exceeded 400 jin (200 kg), and that he will surely live longer than the anti-fans in the chat. However, the cold sweat breaking out, his furrowed brows, and the urgently lowered air conditioning temperature always betray Liangzi's inner state.
When a fan studying medicine connected via voice chat and told him that the acanthosis nigricans on his arms was a symptom of severe type 2 diabetes, Liangzi was so scared that he immediately ended the broadcast. Of course, the next day he would label this medical student fan as an "anti-fan" and convince himself that the dark spots on his elbows were just because he didn't scrub hard enough during his bath. Then he would continue eating and drinking as usual.
He actually knows Everythinggj. He just dares not face it, so he loses his temper and then deceives himself.
It is also for this reason that the term "Grand Finale" has remained popular in Liangzi's livestream. Rather than saying people truly want to see Liangzi die, it's more accurate to say that death is the only concept that can break Liangzi's defense. People want to see Liangzi break, so they verbally anticipate his death.
For a while, Liangzi seemed to genuinely reduce his on-camera eating due to fear of death (or perhaps because eating would lead to reports and bans). But for Liangzi, the stomach bag is Everythinggj. If he doesn't eat, the big donors won't tip. If they don't tip, he has nothing to eat. If he has nothing to eat, his stomach bag can't hold up.
If eating means death, and not eating also means death, rather than waiting for death, it's better to eat and then die.
Thus, the scene at the beginning of the article occurred: With Liangzi's own deconstruction of the "Grand Finale," this "targeted special medicine" seemed to lose its effect. After "Big Stomach Bag," Liangzi reconciled with the "Grand Finale" as well.
Faking illness, playing dead, and using the gimmick of "speedrunning the grand finale" in the livestream to scam food and drinks is the most concrete manifestation of this "reconciliation." Today, Liangzi has thoroughly mastered abstraction. Whether it's nicknames, drinks, food, weight loss, or death, they are all just traffic that can be contained within his stomach bag. If a subscriber donates ten bottles of drinks to advance the progress of the grand finale, Liangzi will unhesitatingly chug them all down.
Donald Duck dared to hang himself because he believed Xiao Liang and Hu Ge would save him. The Indian god-men dare to take selfies and livestream on railway tracks because they have a淡漠 concept of life and safety. Liangzi is different from them. He knows very clearly that he is going further and further down this point of no return. In this line of work, having no content means death. To have content, he can sacrifice his life.
The "Huangting Jing" states: "There is great terror between life and death, born in the heart, manifested in the body."
Being able to put his own life and death on the scale with a clear price tag, subdividing the "Express Train to the End" into bottles of cola, takeout meals, and buffet tickets for sale, Liangzi may have transcended human intellect. He is still a little distance away from becoming an immortal, but he is undoubtedly worthy of being called a "God-man." And this is the biggest reason why Liangzi can be called the strongest legend in the abstract community.
Of course, he might have just been simply hungry—the stomach invading the brain, eating replacing thinking. Who knows?
Tragically, although Liangzi can alleviate the barrage and comment attacks from netizens in his livestream through another "reconciliation," his physical health has reached a point that is irreconcilable and unsustainable.
Liangzi is truly nearing the end. The high blood sugar caused by diabetes has severely hindered his capillary circulation, leading to serious gum problems. His lower teeth have consequently fallen out one by one, leaving only two crooked teeth that look remarkably like wild boar tusks, standing alone.
Nowadays, Liangzi can no longer eat hard foods; delicacies requiring biting are out of reach for him. Given his current dental condition, the only things he can chew and swallow smoothly are probably his favorite Henan braised jelly and noodles. Whether out of mockery or pity, someone online made a remark full of "hellish" implications: "Before Bubble Dragon passed away, he at least ate good food. In the end, Liangzi just ate all sorts of junk. Now his teeth have fallen out, and he can't even eat lobster or crab anymore."
Meanwhile, Liangzi continues his "Void Weight Loss Method." Now, he claims to have slimmed down to 350 jin (175 kg). Someone asked, "Liangzi, if you are 350 jin now, shouldn't that small weight scale from before be able to measure it?"
Liangzi did not answer.
Under his latest video, a comment touched me—"Brother Liang, what is the meaning of life? Is my life your dream?"
The image accompanying the comment is a "group photo" of the former "Renqiu Jay Chou" with him. No one knows if, on the day Liangzi truly faces his "Grand Finale," he will remember that there was once a time when he wasn't called "David Dai."