Zhang Youxia’s Purge: He Weidong Dies Mysteriously at 301 Hospital; More Could Follow?

Tower crane collapse in Jiang County, Dingshi, multiple deaths reported. Jiang Youxia launches major purge, He Weidong dies mysteriously at 301 hospital, more to come. Exclusive. Regional officials form cliques, vying for survival as CCP's rule falters. Orders dwindle, China's factories falter, Vietnam's unexpected surge grabs attention. 81% of Chinese banks breach NIM warning level, stirring fears about financial stability. Welcome aboard today's program. Everything you need to know is in Decoding China. Tower crane collapse in Jiang County, Dingshi, multiple deaths reported. A tragic crane collapse at a construction site in Gansu province has reignited concerns about China's construction safety, government transparency, and the unsettling influence of political priorities and how such incidents are reported. On May 25th, a tower crane at a high-rise project in Jiang County, Dingshi City, suddenly gave way, killing three people, according to state media reports. But as video footage and first-hand accounts quickly spread online, suspicions mounted that the real death toll could be higher, and that the authorities may be working to downplay the disaster. A chilling video, captured by two bystanders who happened to be nearby, shows them frozen in shock as they see the towering crane plummeting from the top of the building. In a matter of seconds, the crane sliced through the protective netting and sent debris crashing to the ground. According to a May 26th report by Beijing News, local emergency management officials confirmed three fatalities and stated that the collapse was caused by a structural failure in the crane, though a formal investigation is still ongoing. Yet this official account has done little to quell speculation. Online, some users claimed they saw a banner at the site listing five deaths instead of three. Others quickly seized on the discrepancy, with one noting three deaths can be handled at the city level, but four deaths would require provincial oversight, hinting at a possible incentive to keep the official count low. Another netizen explained China's tiered system for classifying accidents, where the number of casualties directly determines which level of government is involved. Another user remarked they've tightly controlled this one, echoing a familiar refrain of skepticism and distrust. Beyond the disputed numbers, the collapse has triggered a torrent of criticism over China's rapid and often reckless construction practices. One netizen wrote, I've always wondered how a building that adds one floor every five days can pass quality inspections, capturing the broader anxiety. Another shared memories of similar projects. Years ago, we built six floors a month, seven at most, and carpenters didn't even dare remove the formwork. If you leaned against the wall, the whole building swayed when the crane moved. Such fears extend well beyond this single accident. Terms like tofu slag, a biting nickname for substandard building practices that gained notoriety after the 2008 Sichuan earthquake exposed widespread structural failures, surfaced repeatedly in the online debates. One commenter lamented the cement used now is nothing like it used to be, while another openly wondered whether these reinforced concrete structures could survive a serious earthquake. For some, the questions went deeper than rushed schedules and shoddy materials. One netizen speculated about more sinister forces, alleging a construction site in Sichuan had 10 deaths at once, and it didn't even make the news. This site's boss must have offended someone or been targeted by a competitor. In a system where information is often tightly managed and uncomfortable truths are frequently suppressed, such speculation, however extreme, feels almost inevitable. The collapse in Jiang County is the latest in a string of deadly construction incidents that have left many Chinese citizens wary and disillusioned. Beyond the immediate grief for lives lost and families devastated, the tragedy underscores a deeper crisis of confidence in how China's rapid urban expansion is governed and supervised. As the investigation continues, and as rumors swirl, many are left wondering whether the true story, like so many before it, will ever come fully to light. Jiang Youxia launches major purge. He Weidong dies mysteriously at 301 hospital. More to come? Rumors have spread online that General He Hongjun, executive deputy director of the Political Work Department of the Central Military Commission, CMC, died by suicide while in custody. Now, reports are surfacing that He Weidong, vice chairman of the CMC, also died while in detention at the 301 hospital. Analysts believe suicide is unlikely in He Weidong's case. They suspect he was either killed outright or forced to take his own life. The purge led by Jiang Youxia suggests that the of He Weidong and Miao Hua involve serious charges of conspiracy or treason. Their deaths, observers warn, may be just the tip of the iceberg, with more arrests likely to follow. Independent commentator Tsai Shan Kuen revealed on May 24 via the X platform that vice chairman He Weidong had already died at the 301 hospital, reportedly even before He Hongjun's death. Tsai stated, I mentioned on my show a few days ago that after the two sessions, He Weidong was detained and initially interrogated at the 301 hospital before being transferred to Baoding. What's strange is that by mid-May, all the guards watching over him had returned to Beijing, including the cook who took care of him. Whether He Weidong was still in Baoding or had already been removed, whether he was awaiting further handling or had already met the same fate as He Hongjun. The latest news says He Weidong died earlier than He Hongjun on May 2 at the 301 hospital. On April 24, Zhaoming posted, according to military sources in Beijing, He Weidong died during interrogation. The polite version says he had a heart attack and died despite rescue efforts. The harsher version, following the Zhang Yang model, claims he resisted interrogation and committed suicide. Zhang Youxia decided to act first, driven by concerns for his own political survival after Li Shanfu's arrest. Zhang also represents the bottom line of party elders like Zhang Qinghong. On May 25, Zhaoming further stated that He Weidong was detained after the two sessions, despite claims by Xi's allies that Xi would personally rescue him and allow him to appear at a Politburo meeting in late March to silence critics. But by April 20, military insiders reported that He Weidong had already died in custody. Four days later, Zhaoming went public with the story. Zhaoming argued that Xi's factions planned to rescue He Weidong prompted Zhang Youxia and the party elders to act first, ensuring there was no chance for a rescue, like cutting off the head of a rebellion before it could begin. Zhaoming compared it to the Tang Dynasty's Xuanwu Gate incident, where defenders decapitated rebel leaders to shatter their troops' morale. Commentator Tang Jingyuan noted that He Weidong's death has been confirmed by two different sources, one in April and one recently, lending credibility to the reports. While details remain scarce, Tang said the death could have been caused by sudden illness, like a heart attack, suicide under pressure, death during torture, or outright secret execution. Previously, there were also reports that Yi Hongjun had died by suicide while in detention. On May 19, Tsai Shengkun revealed on X that he received information from Beijing that Yi Hongjun had taken his own life while being held by the military's disciplinary commission and died on the afternoon of May 18, despite emergency treatment at the 301 hospital. However, Tang believes that suicide is unlikely in Yi Hongjun's case as well. He suggests it's more plausible that Yi Hongjun, like He Weidong, was murdered or forced to take his own life. Tang believes that these political faction cases have been classified as major conspiracies, potentially meriting death sentences within the military. With He Weidong gone, others, like Miao Hua, Lin Xiangyang, and Wan Hobin, are likely in grave danger. U.S.-based political commentator Chen Pocong also dismissed the idea that He Weidong's death was a suicide, noting that Chinese officials and generals rarely sacrifice themselves for loyalty, being driven instead by the pursuit of power and wealth. Chen also expressed skepticism about Yi Hongjun's supposed suicide, suggesting that the real reason for his death may be that he knew too much and was eliminated in the course of broader political infighting. Commentator Yushan echoed these views, saying that if Xi's hand-picked generals like He Weidong and Yi Hongjun can be secretly executed, no one within the system is truly safe. The rapid appearance of suicides and mysterious deaths among high-ranking officers is a chilling testament to the bloody nature of China's factional power struggles, and a stark warning that anyone tied to the regime's brutal machinery could become the next victim. Exclusive! Regional officials form cliques, vying for survival as CCP's rule falters. China's ruling Communist Party is facing unprecedented turmoil as a wave of high-level purges and deepening suspicion ripples through its political and military leadership. Lon Tinley, Deputy Secretary of the Party Committee and Chairman of the Guangxi Zhuang Autonomous Region, has come under investigation for alleged serious violations of discipline and law, making him the second sitting provincial leader to be targeted since the CCP's 20th National Congress. Reports suggest that the investigation could implicate at least 800 officials and business figures, underscoring the sweeping scope and gravity of the crackdown. Lon Tinley's case is emblematic of a deeper crisis within the CCP's upper echelons. Despite more than a decade of Xi Jinping's much-touted anti-corruption campaign, corruption remains deeply entrenched, fueling the emergence of so-called cliques and factions within the Party's ranks. According to legal scholar Yuan Hongbin, these networks are not mere expressions of disloyalty but deliberate survival strategies. Parallel, mafia-like alliances forged amid growing uncertainty about the regime's future. A recent internal report by the newly appointed minister of the Central Organization Department sheds further light on this phenomenon. Shure's report warns that these factions, bound by personal loyalty rather than Party allegiance, are becoming increasingly entrenched. They are seen as potential alternative power centers should the regime's stability falter. Regional bases of influence, from the Yangtze River Delta to Guangdong and Guangxi, serve as fallback strongholds in the event of national upheaval, amplifying fears of fragmentation. This climate of fear and suspicion has extended to the military as well. Reports have surfaced that General Huang Ming, commander of the Central Theater Command, has been detained, alongside three lieutenant generals now under investigation. In a further sign of crisis, General He Hongjun, an officer personally elevated by Xi Jinping, allegedly took his own life while in tight custody. These arrests are part of an expanding purge within the Chinese military, further evidence of the regime's intensifying power struggles. Amid this turmoil, two contradictory narratives have emerged, the so-called Zhang Youxia's mysterious 60-day plan and the 70-person purge plan. Commentator Gene Tao notes that the former is less about specific details and more about the broader power struggle, particularly regarding the upcoming 4th plenary session and Xi Jinping's leadership. Adding to the confusion is a purported leaked document labeled 2025-11, though closer scrutiny suggests it is a fabrication, likely crafted by an outsider seeking to exploit the climate of suspicion. Meanwhile, a state-run media article published on May 19th has fueled speculation of its own. The piece, dry and formal in tone, focuses on Xi Jinping's important instructions on the 15th Five-Year Plan. Its invocation of scientific and democratic decision-making, language rooted in Hu Jintao's governance philosophy, has been read by some as a subtle challenge to Xi's iron grip at a time when his dominance appears increasingly contested. Still, while such speculation underscores the deep fissures within the CCP's monolithic facade, it remains highly unlikely that Xi would allow Hu Jintao, a figure publicly humiliated and forcibly removed from the 20th National Congress, to re-emerge as a voice of reason or reconciliation. Xi's well-known ruthlessness and suspicion make any notion of Hu's return implausible. Nonetheless, the atmosphere within the CCP and the military is one of palpable unease. Each new arrest or suicide report reinforces the sense of a regime gripped by mutual suspicion, fear, and a profound vulnerability. For many in China, the growing readiness to believe that the Party's collapse is imminent reflects both a hope and a fear, even if some of the most dramatic rumors remain, at best, half-truths. For the outside world, these unfolding events reveal a deeper truth—the CCP's once-imposing facade is increasingly fractured. As the leadership navigates these treacherous currents of internal decay and factional infighting, China's longstanding image of stability is showing cracks, and the path ahead has never looked more precarious. Orders dwindle, China's factories falter, Vietnam's unexpected surge grabs attention. The U.S.-China trade war's temporary truce in May 2025, marked by tariff reductions, promised relief for China's beleaguered export sector. Instead, it has laid bare deep flaws in the country's economic model and the Chinese Communist Party's—CCP—governance. Despite the U.S. slashing tariffs from 145 percent to 30 percent and China reciprocating, factory owners and workers in industrial hubs like Dongguan and Kunshan face a harsh truth—orders are not rebounding, and economic hardship is worsening. Chinese manufacturers report low relief. Zhao Ryan, director of Jiangsu's Green Willow Textiles, told CNBC that while some production lines are restarting, U.S. buyers have shifted to suppliers in Canada, India, and Vietnam, where labor is cheaper. Jonathan Silva of Massachusetts-based W.S. Game Company told the Associated Press that nine containers remain stuck in Chinese factories, disrupting schedules. A factory worker's lament on social media captures the mood. We thought orders would surge after tariffs dropped, but nothing's changed. The reasons are twofold. During the trade war's peak, U.S. clients secured alternative supply chains, and fears of renewed tariff hikes under President Trump's unpredictable leadership keep buyers cautious. The human cost is staggering. Economist Alicia Garcia-Herrero estimates that current tariffs could eliminate 4 to 6 million Chinese jobs, with a 20 percent reduction still costing 1.5 to 2.5 million. Factory closures are rampant. Eighty-five percent of processing plants are losing money, and only five percent remain profitable. One worker noted even with orders, we're not making money. It's a race to the bottom. In Dunguan, once dubbed the world's factory, deserted streets and shuttered shops reflect a dire job market. A woman in the city's business registration sector said even college graduates can't find work. Bosses can't support themselves. The mass exit of Taiwanese businesses — once a pillar of China's manufacturing boom — has deepened the crisis. A U.S. think tank points to rising labor costs, supply chain risks, and CCP policies, such as the 2015 mandate requiring employers to fund social insurance and housing contributions, COVID lockdowns, and vague laws targeting espionage for Taiwanese independents, as key drivers. Industrial parks in Dunguan and Kunshan now stand empty as companies like Pochin Industrial relocate to Vietnam's Bac Ninh province, where workers earn 2,500 to 3,500 RMB monthly, a fraction of Chinese wages. Bac Ninh's thriving factories, reminiscent of 1990s Guangdong, underscore a bitter reality — China's loss is Southeast Asia's gain. The CCP's policies have backfired significantly. From shutting down Shanghai's port during lockdowns to enacting laws that deter investors, the regime's obsession with control over economic pragmatism has driven away businesses that once fueled growth. Taiwanese entrepreneur Liao Jinjiang, who left China in 2022, told overseas media, inflation devoured workers' earnings, and she cares only about his power, not the economy. With factories closing and millions unemployed, public frustration is mounting. As China's economic engine stalls, its ripple effects increasingly strain global supply chains, deepening concerns both domestically and internationally about the CCP's ability to engineer a meaningful recovery under its current leadership. 81% of Chinese banks breach NIM warning level, stirring fears about financial stability. China's long-running real estate crisis is casting a long shadow over its banking sector, exposing deep vulnerabilities that could have far-reaching consequences for the broader economy. A recent analysis shows that by the end of 2023, 81% of China's 58 listed banks had net interest margins, NIMs, below the profitability warning threshold of 1.8%. With lending rates tumbling and loan demand weakening, the stability of the country's banking system is under growing threat. The sharp decline in NIMs, an essential measure of bank profitability, underscores the severity of the strain. Nikkei Asia reports that 93% of listed banks in mainland China and Hong Kong saw their NIMs fall in 2024 compared to the previous year. In 2019, before the pandemic, only six banks were operating below the profitability threshold. Today, 47 of 58 banks have crossed that line. Behind these numbers lies a perfect storm. Years of economic headwinds, including the bursting of China's property bubble, pandemic-related disruptions, and a cautious lending climate have left businesses and households wary of borrowing. As a result, loan rates have dropped, squeezing banks' interest income and eroding profitability. Worryingly, this deterioration comes as China's broader economy continues to struggle. Domestic demand remains weak, job prospects are dim, and U.S. tariffs weigh heavily on sentiment. In an effort to spur consumption, China's banks cut deposit rates across the board on May 20, but this move will likely tighten already fragile profit margins even further. Meanwhile, concerns are mounting over growing credit risks, particularly among small and medium-sized enterprises, SMEs. To help these businesses, the government has urged banks to lower lending rates, an effort that risks fueling a surge in non-performing loans, NPLs. Pan Huafu, Vice President of Bank of Hangzhou, warned at a recent earnings briefing, Right now, our biggest worry is the credit risk of SMEs, and this concern is not baseless. Shinichi Seiki of the Japan Research Institute added that borrowers' risks are not properly priced into loan rates, and bad loans may be quietly accumulating. Data suggests the potential NPL ratio could reach 7.8% by the end of 2024, with real estate as the primary driver. Official figures still place the NPL ratio at a seemingly stable 1.5%, but analysts argue that these numbers likely understate the true scale of the problem, given lax oversight and opaque reporting practices in China's banking sector. Bank profitability troubles are also taking a toll on executive pay. Kaijing reports that 78.5% of the 42 A-share listed banks recorded lower executive compensation in 2024. Changsha Bank saw the steepest cut, slashing executive pay by more than 80%. China's small banks have been particularly hard hit. Poor management and heavy exposure to real estate have left them reeling. Some small banks have reported that up to 40% of their loan books are now bad debts. With no clear path to recovery, many are disappearing altogether. In June last year, Liaoning Rural Commercial Bank merged with 36 rural banks. Others, like Shun Rural Commercial Bank, have announced plans to absorb smaller village banks and convert them into branches. These developments underscore a fundamental flaw in China's economic model. The relentless push for rapid urban expansion and easy credit has left the banking sector dangerously exposed. As China's banks merge and downsize in response to growing losses, the question is no longer whether cracks are forming, it's how deep they run, and what that means for China's economic future. We want to hear from you. Drop a comment below with your thoughts on today's topic. If you found this video useful, share it with a friend. It motivates us to keep bringing you top-notch content. Remember to hit the like button and subscribe for more fascinating insights from Decoding China. Thanks for watching.