Wu Tang's fans call themselves "Toffees," Su Yi Wu's fans are "Yixins," Shen Yun's fans are "Little Cloudies," Li Xing Wei's fans go by "Snow Pears" or "iLI," and Li Fei's fans call themselves "Reporters."
Here's an amusing fan controversy: the phrase "Yixing Yunfei" (逸兴云飞) comes from Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng and describes high spirits and an unrestrained mindset—fitting for describing the four top celebrities.
But Li Fei's fans were unhappy. While "Fei" (斐) and "fei" (飞) share the same pronunciation, the other five names in the phrase matched the characters exactly.
So, fans spontaneously wrote letters to the Xinhua Dictionary Publishing House, demanding that "Yixing Yunfei" be changed to "Yixing Yun-Fei" (逸兴云斐). What a joke!
While dictionaries do evolve with the times—for example, adding modern terms like "download"—Li Fei's fans' request was completely unreasonable. They wanted to alter the wording of an ancient literary work.
Wasn't this as absurd as claiming that Li Shangyin plagiarized Pili Puppetry, or fans threatening to "cancel" Li Shangyin's Weibo? In the end, the fans apologized, saying, "I didn't know Li Shangyin was such an obscure poet."
The public isn't wrong to assume that fandom culture lacks education. While a few bad apples don't represent the whole, such incidents inevitably shape outsiders' perceptions.
The reason I've outlined the fanbases of these six top celebrities is that they essentially represent 70% of the fandom ecosystem. The upcoming battleground would be between Little Fruits (Chu Zhi's fans) and Snow Pears (Li Xing Wei's fans). As for Lin Xia's fans? They're not even worth mentioning.
At first, the conflict was restrained and relatively peaceful.
But the next day, official accounts began subtly stoking the flames, and the situation spiraled out of control.
Li Xing Wei Studio:
"Congratulations to @Li Xing Wei on his new album 'Can't Do Without Li' selling over 150,000 physical copies in two hours, earning an IFPI 5x Platinum certification! The year's best album has arrived. #AlbumOfTheYear #LiXingWeiNewAlbum #First5xPlatinumAlbumOfTheYear #WhatIsStarPower"
In an era where physical album sales are dismal, Li Xing Wei's fans displayed staggering buying power. Even singers dubbed "The Great Demon King" only managed 100,000 sales in two hours. The final tally for Li's album was 264,000 copies across two versions (USB edition: 185,000, CD edition: 80,000).
IFPI (International Federation of the Phonographic Industry) sets the standards—15,000 copies for Gold, 30,000 for Platinum, and 150,000 for 5x Platinum in China. The math checks out with middle-school arithmetic.
But calling it "Album of the Year"? Little Fruits were furious. "Who does he think he is, some kind of god?"
Before Little Fruits could fully mobilize, another Weibo post poured gasoline on the fire.
Li Xing Wei Fan Club (Official):
"#AlbumOfTheYear #LiXingWeiNewAlbum #WhatIsStarPower
The deluxe USB edition of 'Can't Do Without Li' sold 100,000 copies, grossing over 35 million yuan. Holding up the sky of Mandarin pop—real music is measured by sales, not free downloads."
Oh, this was unforgivable. Even the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles wouldn't tolerate this.
Little Fruits exploded. The verbal warfare escalated instantly. Wei Tongzi, trying to keep a level head, reached out to the Snow Pears' fan leader.
"Calling it 'Album of the Year' is one thing—the sales are impressive. But saying 'real music is measured by sales, not free downloads' is a direct jab. That's crossing the line."
To be honest, the saying "Liking is indulgence, love is restraint" might sound pretentious, but Wei Tongzi's deep care for Chu Zhi made her cautious in her decisions as a fan leader. Otherwise, given her temper…
The Snow Pears' fan leader was actually an employee of Li Xing Wei's company, Da Hua Entertainment. Clearly, the success had gone to the team's head—this provocation was undoubtedly authorized.
The reply was blunt: "Isn't it the truth?"
"Your mom's exploded, you turtle spawn! Can't talk properly? Gotta fart out of your mouth instead?" Wei Tongzi unleashed her true self, typing furiously.
With negotiations broken down, peaceful resolution was off the table.
Little Fruits struck first, invading the Snow Pears' supertopic:
"Four hundred yuan for a USB? Hilarious. Getting scammed and still bragging about it."
Snow Pears retaliated:
"If his album weren't free, who'd even listen to it? 'Can't Do Without Li' is way better than '25,117 Possibilities'!"
The feud escalated into chaos, creating a win-win situation—for Weibo, which raked in double the traffic and engagement.
Li Xing Wei, while publicly urging fans to "stay calm," privately instructed his team (via the fan leader) to keep stirring the pot.
Why? Because the more worked up fans got, the better the sales. Rivalry bred competitiveness.
Satisfied, Li Xing Wei headed out for Japanese cuisine. Beyond sales, his real goal was to trample Chu Zhi.
Chu Zhi was on the verge of becoming the top of the top celebrities, and Li Xing Wei saw an opportunity to climb by stepping on him.
The most torn were fans of both Li and Chu—no matter what they said, they'd be betraying one side.
Remember Xiao Zi, the high school girl who woke up early to clean streets for charity in the name of her idol?
She had a huge fight with her best friend—not Xiao Qi (who didn't follow celebrities), but her deskmate Ling Ling, a hardcore Snow Pear who'd bought the deluxe USB album. Xiao Zi cut ties with her.
Never assume online fan wars stay online. Countless friendships have been destroyed over idol rivalries.
Now, about these "deluxe USB albums"—let's be real, they're just fancy-looking USB drives. Past designs include animals, pendants, and cartoon figures, all tied to the artist.
These USBs, loaded with the album's songs, sell for 200 to 500 yuan.
We're long past the VCD era. Nowadays, people buy physical albums either to boost their idol's numbers or for collection purposes. Since it's about display, a stylish USB naturally looks better on a shelf than a plain CD—hence the higher sales.
Back to the main story: Li Xing Wei's team had ignited this fire, but they soon reaped what they sowed.
On Weibo and Instagram, they were losing ground fast. Whether in sheer numbers or fan loyalty, Snow Pears were no match for Little Fruits.
It wasn't even a contest. Little Fruits, forged through hardship, were like zombies—relentless, refusing to back down. Many were working adults who took the day off, sacrificing their attendance bonuses.
Why? Because they felt responsible.
Those with vine tattoos or star-cluster tattoos carried a sense of duty—"If I don't step up, Brother Nine will get bullied." Those without tattoos believed "Brother remembers every sacrifice we make."
With this group buff and numerical advantage, Snow Pears never stood a chance. Only Li Xing Wei's fandom could put up even a semblance of resistance—anyone else would've been steamrolled.
While Li Xing Wei enjoyed his sushi, his home base was being raided. His latest post, featuring a handsome smile, would normally be flooded with "So handsome!" comments. With heavy moderation, negative remarks were rare.
But now, several critical comments had risen to the top:
["As a neutral observer, Chu Zhi's album is genuinely good. I'd buy it even if it weren't free."]
["Both albums are solid, but I prefer '25,117 Possibilities'."]
["I used to like you and even bought two albums. But why are you picking a fight with Brother Nine? Care to explain?"]
Li Xing Wei refused to believe these were real "neutrals." To him, they were obviously plants. And "used to like you"? That just meant they were traitors.