When Xie Mengwei, known as "Brother Gazi," appeared in the Bilibili livestream room, greeting everyone with formal words and a friendly attitude, even Yakushi Kabuto would have praised his craftsmanship.
Last September, behind the scenes of a "provincial key project," he wore a prop police uniform to sell goods to his followers during a livestream, resulting in a seven-day administrative detention package. Not only was his Kuaishou account permanently banned, but he also owed tens of millions. At that time, people believed his credibility score had been depleted, his online career was ending, and he was facing his grand finale.
However, facts tell us that he has entered a second spring in the abstract comedy lane. Countless god-tier moments have been dug up and revisited, numerous bizarre scripts have become fodder for secondary creation editors, and Gazi's catchphrases like "My Chovy, hold my stuff properly" are so brainwashing that they have completely transformed Brother Gazi into an abstract comedian.
Witnessing this spectacle, even Brother Gazi himself emerged, undergoing a digital resurrection on Bilibili, the platform that respects him the most, launching a credibility restoration plan that could be described as top-tier intellectual combat.
On June 20, Brother Gazi uploaded a video titled "Officially Joining Bilibili! Brother Gazi Will Be With You From Now On!" It seemed like a casual move similar to other celebrities joining Bilibili. However, whether due to his innate talent for this industry or guidance from experts behind the scenes, a detailed analysis reveals that the release of this video was quite clever.
First, there's the timing of the video release. In April this year, Brother Gazi's product-promotion videos started gaining traction again, most notably the so-called "Yogurt Battle." Some say his anger stemmed from his assistant failing to hand him a straw, making the yogurt difficult to drink; others claim his anger was because the yogurt handed to him was expired... But none of that matters. What matters is that this high-quality livestream gave birth to legendary memes like "Liu Yifei's Diana" and "My Chovy, what are you all doing?" The effect was explosive and worth savoring repeatedly.
To this end, Wenxi and Aqi, the Bilibili uploaders who respect Brother Gazi the most, created a compilation of Brother Gazi's abstract product-promotion highlights after the meme went viral. It directly surpassed ten million views, becoming a monument in the history of "Gazi Studies."
Of course, as April, May, and June passed, Brother Gazi's notable incidents gradually faded from netizens' minds due to the passage of time and the influx of other online trends, leaving only those classic quotes embedded in daily life and language for repeated savoring. Yet, this state of semi-forgetfulness is precisely the perfect moment to revive memories. Could Gazi's declaration of joining Bilibili be inadvertently aligned with Ebbinghaus's forgetting curve theory?
Let's look at the specific release time—the scheduled post went live at 5:00 PM on June 20. Rumor has it that Bilibili's recommendation algorithm pushes content in small waves every 3 hours and large waves every 7 hours. If that's true, then his video posted at 5:00 PM on Saturday evening would hit the prime-time push at 8:00 PM and the midnight push at 12:00 AM, perfectly capturing the weekend traffic code. Who dares to say our Brother Gazi is uncultured? When it comes to understanding the push mechanism, you've got some learning to do.
As the art of war states: "Those who occupy the battlefield first and await the enemy are at ease; those who arrive later and rush into battle are fatigued. Thus, skilled warriors draw the enemy to them rather than being drawn to the enemy." Just from the video release alone, Brother Gazi achieved the advantage of waiting at ease, and his subsequent actions perfectly embodied this principle.
In his introduction video, Brother Gazi made a rather magnanimous statement: "No need to be reserved, just chat casually; your Brother Gazi can handle it." Sure enough, netizens looking for fun took him up on it, filling the comments section with curses. As a result, you could see that the bullet comments were mostly pure personal attacks against him.
Additionally, the comment section was filled with fans of the classic work "Little Soldier Zhang Ga," expecting Brother Gazi to pay homage to the classic by wearing a handsome military uniform during the stream and recreating the famous scene of him selling goods in a police outfit.
How would Brother Gazi respond to the numerous negative comments? The answer is: he wouldn't. As long as he remained silent, netizens' attacks would receive no feedback, like punching cotton, eventually forcing them to leave dejectedly. If they had enough patience to keep attacking in the comments, that would be even better, as free热度 (heat/traffic) shouldn't be wasted.
After a week of buildup, the real climax arrived. On June 26, he released a preview video for his livestream, stating that Saturday night's broadcast would have no tricks, no sales pitches, and no hype—just the most authentic version of himself.
How authentic was it? Less than five minutes into the stream, he pulled out a bottle of Pepsi to greet the viewers. The scene was so bizarre it rivaled the historical photo of Kobe Bryant drinking iced tea on the Great Wall.
During the several-hour stream, Brother Gazi indeed did as he said, avoiding traditional tactics like selling goods or hype. Instead, he adapted to local customs by offering signed photos as gifts for "Captains" (premium subscribers). As for whether this previous maneuver was coincidence or a promotional stunt... let's just assume Brother Gazi was born to make a living this way. By the way, even if you don't become a Captain, you can still enter a raffle where the prize is also a signed photo, making one wonder just how many copies he batch-signed.
Throughout the entire stream, Brother Gazi maintained a dignified demeanor. It was hard to see the rage displayed in famous scenes like the "Yogurt Battle" on his face, as if the unruly Brother Gazi was merely a performed persona, and this sincere young man who openly plays along with his own memes is the real him. The best demonstration of this was his interaction with Bilibili uploaders Wenxi and Aqi during their joint stream.
Wenxi and Aqi are the Bilibili uploaders who respect Brother Gazi the most. As mentioned earlier, the video about Gazi with tens of millions of views was made by them. Even before Gazi announced his arrival on Bilibili and officially started streaming, they had interacted in the comments section, with countless netizens anticipating this meeting of the century.
When it came down to this encounter between Wen and Ga, Brother Gazi, having already employed the strategy of waiting at ease after leveraging his innate internet savvy, demonstrated crowd-control abilities comparable to veteran artists, far surpassing typical influencers.
For example, right after exchanging greetings at the start of the joint stream, the two engaged in a battle of wits. Brother Gazi adopted a humble stance, lowering himself while praising Wenxi to the skies. He referred to Wenxi as Bilibili's top chair, a positive-energy streamer, and someone earning millions annually, as if Wenxi had consumed boxes of fake alcohol in his channel. Afterward, he不忘 added, "Everyone in the chat, let's welcome Wenxi," subtly asserting who really owned the livestream.
Afterward, Brother Gazi didn't forget to flatter his breadwinners. With a grand gesture, he labeled the Bilibili audience as "highly cognizant individuals," implying they were doing him a favor by watching his stream. As the saying goes, "you don't hit a smiling person." This move made everyone somewhat uneasy. Even Wenxi kept adjusting his thoughts by drinking water and subtly revealed a Coca-Cola bottle—the exact opposite of Gazi's preferred brand—for a quiet counterattack.
Of course, this was only the first round of engagement. After establishing a basic understanding of each other, there were countless attacks and defenses. Among Wenxi's initial sharp questions was one: "Why come to Bilibili? Was your main platform banned?" Brother Gazi's response was quite official: "I don't have a main platform; wherever the audience is, that's my main platform." He skillfully sidestepped the issue of being banned and hopping between platforms, while also preaching that the audience is the actor's breadwinner. This somewhat highlighted his performance, making it hard to imagine it was improvised.
Seeing that such questions couldn't breach Brother Gazi's defenses, Wenxi chose a different approach, asking why his behavior differed from before. Keep in mind, Brother Gazi on Bilibili appears serious and less meme-worthy, whereas people are more accustomed to his unruly persona.
Brother Gazi seized the opportunity to unveil a new strategy: drawing clear boundaries. He claimed that his streaming style varies across platforms—exaggerated on one, acting-like when acting, and Peking Opera-style when performing opera. Even in responding to Wenxi, he directly previewed his future update plans, showing a strong intention to reform, with his words exuding considerable sincerity.
What best demonstrates this sense of sincerity are a few other questions from Wenxi.
For instance, when Wenxi pretended to care about Gazi's health by suggesting he buy a treadmill, actually aiming to mock him as a "preacher," Brother Gazi directly stated that he works out regularly and even demonstrated various intense exercises on the spot, leaving the chat dumbfounded.
For instance, when Wenxi mentioned a song Brother Gazi had once sung, Gazi unexpectedly performed an impromptu a cappella segment right there on the spot, appearing completely unpretentious and respectful toward his fans.
In comparison, every sentence from Wenxi was a direct critical hit, but Brother Gazi simply didn't engage, focusing on neutralizing the force. Although no one knows whether he genuinely doesn't care or is pretending not to, his display of indifference made him appear quite composed.
Looking at it this way, Brother Gazi dominated the entire joint stream, becoming the first person to turn a collaboration into a press conference. Even Panzi would feel ashamed in comparison. His smooth combo of waiting at ease, showing weakness to attract viewers, and rapidly distancing himself from past misconduct successfully showcased the "real Xie Mengwei" on Bilibili, giving the impression that he was nearly whitewashed.
In fact, if you only watch this particular stream, you might even find Brother Gazi quite likable—he appears both generous and sincere, with every sentence landing like a critical hit.
But... is whitewashing really that simple? Take Brother Gazi's rapid disassociation tactic during the stream. While different platforms indeed require different styles, if you think carefully, something feels off. What kind of style involves streaming in a police uniform? Can drawing clear lines between platform styles really sever the connection between Brother Gazi on Bilibili and the disgraced influencer flagged on other platforms?
For another example, he keeps talking about his "authentic self," but who can be sure that this "sincere Brother Gazi streaming on Bilibili" isn't just another mask? After all, this entire whitewashing process is quite professional, resembling a well-organized and premeditated operation.
So, which one is the real Xie Mengwei? Is it the Brother Gazi who flew into rages during scripted streams on Kuaishou, even wearing a police uniform until he got banned? Is it the Brother Gazi on Bilibili who claims to have turned over a new leaf and shows off his "authentic self"? Or is it the Xie Mengwei with shining eyes who once studied Peking Opera under his master, as he mentioned during his Bilibili stream?
I don't know, netizens don't know, and perhaps even he himself doesn't know. This is the most terrifying aspect of the internet.
Perhaps he is showing his true self, or perhaps he is performing his true self. Regardless, he is using the image that netizens enjoy seeing to boost his likability and restore the credibility points he himself deducted. When he cashes in those credibility points next time, the distinction between reality and performance will become clear.
However, those hoping Brother Gazi restores his credibility score may not just be the die-hard fans whose very existence is questionable, but also countless disgraced influencers who, like Gazi, have pulled various ban-worthy stunts online and are hoping for a chance to make a comeback someday.
If Brother Gazi truly succeeds this time, we may be welcoming a new era of digital resurrection.
