Xi’s Purge Terror: CCP Officials Panic, Shift to Self-Preservation Mode!

Xi Jinping's worst World Cup memory China football remains a global joke. China may be the world's biggest copycat, but Xiaomi chairman Lei Jun is the copycat king as netizens launch boycotts. China's economic downturn forces layoffs, debt crises and extreme frugality as ordinary people scramble to survive. Is the entertainment industry cursed? Shocking expose, mainland male stars face sexual harassment, female actresses are just dishes. Xi's anti-corruption purge deepens fear, CCP officials shift to self-preservation mode. You're watching China Revealed Your Source for timely analysis and grounded perspectives on today's China. Xi Jinping's worst World Cup memory China football remains a global joke. During the FIFA World Cup, the Chinese national football team once again became a national disgrace for failing to qualify. Netizens dug up embarrassing videos of the China team that made foreign audiences laugh, while domestic fans could only respond with awkward mixed emotions. In 2022, they lost for the first time to Vietnam. In 2023, they drew with Malaysia. In 2024, they drew with Lebanon. In 2025, during World Cup qualifiers, they were crushed 0-7 by Japan. At the AFC Asian Cup, they recorded their worst performance ever, 0 goals, 0 wins, and early group stage elimination. Many now describe them as a third-tier or even bottom-tier team in Asia. The most humiliating moment came in last year's qualifiers when they lost 0-1 to Indonesia, ending a 68-year unbeaten record against them. Before the match, fans were still hopeful. One said, We've just entered the stadium in Indonesia. The atmosphere is really intense. I truly hope the Chinese team can step up and beat Indonesia. Another added, No more words. Sharpen the blades. Brothers go Team China. Then came one of the most widely circulated moments. While trailing by 1 goal in the final 10 minutes, the Chinese team passed the ball backward 23 times in their own half, instead of pushing forward. After the final whistle, fans shouted in unison, Shame on you! Shame on you! One frustrated supporter summed it up online. The Chinese national football team is this bad because they have no chance at all against stronger teams, and they have no bottom line when facing weak teams. Another recalled the qualifiers, Against Japan, Australia, and Saudi Arabia, we went on a 3-game losing streak, even losing 0-7 at one point. But the worst came later. From March to May this year, there was a 6-game losing streak. Public sentiment has turned deeply pessimistic. You've got such a huge country, and you can't even find 11 players. Other much smaller countries can beat you. And you're still getting such high salaries and eating so well, even eating 2 sea cucumbers a day. Fans point to the lack of a proper environment for kids to play. You go to primary schools now, how many kids actually have time to play football? They're either in tutoring classes or on the way to tutoring. Honestly, Chinese football is really beyond saving. This failure stands in sharp contrast to Xi Jinping's grand vision. In 2015, the Chinese leader issued the China Football Reform and Development Overall Plan aiming to remove administrative control-build school programs nationwide and push the team toward World Cup qualification. Big money flowed in. Foreign stars arrived. Thousands of football schools were built. The leadership believed enough cash would deliver results. Instead, money brought corruption. Coaches could be bought. Player selections influenced. Match outcomes manipulated. From the Super League down to youth levels, dark practices became common. Real estate tycoon Wang Jianlin invested heavily but later withdrew completely openly, criticizing a lot of darkness in football and calling Chinese football unfixable. Another tycoon Xu Jiayin of Evergrande poured money into the club to win the AFC Champions League and please top leaders. The model was not sustainable. Evergrande later collapsed under massive debt and the club was dissolved. The system itself is the problem. One commentator noted, Chinese football has it all. Ugly play corruption and dark practices altogether. Abusive power for personal gain, flattering superiors while bullying subordinates, fraud and favoritism, and outsiders managing professionals. Former coach Jose Antonio Camacho once complained about the low level of players. Even basic results against weaker teams have become difficult. Meanwhile, a grassroots team of ordinary public primary school students showed what is possible outside the system. The China Football Boys, 2014 team supported by commentator Dong Liu with his own money, won the Sigismondi International Youth Cup in Rome with a perfect record. They beat top European academy teams and became the only non-European champion. One player signed with Barcelona's La Masia Academy. Commentators said this victory proved it's not that Chinese people cannot play football. It's that the system has crippled them. The official system suppresses talent through bureaucracy, favoritism, and a focus on superficial performance rather than real development. Grassroots efforts that bypass it achieve better results but face uncertainty when the system tries to absorb them. China's football failures are not just about sports. They reflect deeper issues under CCP rule massive investment wasted on corruption, a system that prioritizes control and appearances over genuine progress, and an education structure that stifles creativity and competition from a young age. Xi Jinping's ambitious plan has delivered repeated embarrassment on the world stage instead of glory. For many fans, the national team's results have become something the leadership would rather forget. But the problems run too deep to erase. China may be the world's biggest copycat, but Xiaomi chairman Lei Jun is the copycat king as netizens launch boycotts. On June 15, a video of Xiaomi founder Lei Jun sitting on a small stool eating hot dried noodles on a Wuhan street went viral. At first glance, it looked like a humble moment, a Hubei native back home enjoying simple street food after decades. Lei said he had not eaten by the roadside like this for a long time. The 11 yuan breakfast seemed intended to show a billionaire staying close to ordinary people. Many viewers quickly compared it to Nvidia CEO Jensen Huang's visits to Taiwan night markets. Huang blends in with crowds in his signature leather jacket, eats street food chats with vendors, and sometimes pays for others. These appearances feel natural and have become part of his appeal. The contrast led to sharp online mockery. One comment joked, When Huang goes out for noodles, it's because he wants to eat noodles. When Lei goes out for noodles, it's because Huang went out for noodles. Closer inspection showed the scene was far from spontaneous. A blue carpet had been placed on the ground outside the ordinary breakfast shop clashing with the simple stool. Lei was surrounded by Xiaomi's public relations staff and a large crew of photographers and videographers with professional camera stabilizers, lighting, and audio equipment. He spent much of the time adjusting for camera angles, smiling for photos, and interacting with fans rather than actually eating. The carefully arranged moment fell apart when a young girl with a backpack walked past and asked loudly, Her innocent remark drew laughter and immediately broke the staged atmosphere. Many compared her to the child in the emperor's new clothes, saying what everyone else saw but would not admit. One user joked that after days of preparation, the public relations team's hard work was undone by a single child's comment. This incident fits a longer pattern. Critics say In 2011, during Xiaomi's early smartphone launches, Lei wore a plain black t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers on stage and used the phrase, One more thing earning him the nickname Lei Jobs for mimicking Steve Jobs. When Xiaomi entered the EV market, Lei shifted to a casual suit look and shared images of factory oversight and sleeping on the floor, drawing comparisons to Elon Musk and earning the Now, with street food appearances, he appears to be copying Jensen Huang. The imitation extends to products. Xiaomi's SU7 electric sedan drew attention for similarities in shape, front design, and fastback profile to the Porsche Taycan. Online users called it the Xiaomi Porsche and joked that its front resembled a Tesla model, three sides an Audi A7, and rear a Porsche Panamera. The YU7 SUV faced similar criticism for looking like Ferrari's Purasange, especially after Xiaomi launched an emerald green color the same day Ferrari promoted a similar shade. Some users combined the names into Ferrami. Yu Jingming, executive vice president of SEIC Motor Passenger Vehicle, criticized Xiaomi's reliance on imitation. He said copying might be a business strategy, but questioned whether it could build a lasting brand. Design and brand identity matter more in cars than in smartphones, he argued. Safety concerns have added to the criticism. On June 6, a Xiaomi SU7 crashed on a highway in Yunnan province. In rainy conditions, slid into a barrier, broke apart, caught fire, and trapped the driver, who died. Doors reportedly could not be opened. The vehicle earned the mocking nickname Greenbelt God of War after multiple incidents where cars ended up in roadside landscaping. Earlier accidents also raised questions about emergency escape systems. The SU7 Ultra's carbon fiber hood faced complaints that its cooling ducts were mostly visual. Hundreds of owners demanded refunds. Xiaomi offered 2,000 reward points, about 295 U.S. dollars, which many saw as inadequate. Automotive deliveries fell 44.3 percent in the first quarter of 2026, and the division recorded losses of 3.1 billion yuan. Lei's approach reflects a broader culture of imitation under the CCP's system, where quick replication and marketing often take priority over original engineering. Temporary success built on copying may work for a while, but it struggles when tested by real-world safety reliability and consumer trust. A simple child's question exposed what staged publicity tried to hide. For Lei Jun and Xiaomi, building genuine reputation may prove harder than copying the styles of others. China's economic downturn forces layoffs, debt crises, and extreme frugality as ordinary people scramble to survive. As China's real estate sector continues to crumble and youth unemployment remains high, consumption downgrade has become a daily reality for millions. To stretch every wand, people are turning to extreme frugality and scavenging. Online videos show an elderly man picking up leftovers from trash and another person so hungry that he ate leaves from roadside greenery. One netizen asked, what kind of society is this now? There are still people who can't even afford to eat. Unemployment hits hard across all ages. Businesses drying up everywhere. A shop owner reported tonight's revenue was only 44 yuan. Factories are closing early. By the end of the month, at least one-third of factories will suspend operations. In Shanghai, ride-hailing drivers say parking lots are full but there are no passengers. One earned just 20 yuan from four customers. Supermarkets and physical stores sit empty. At noon in Guangzhou, markets, stalls that once did millions in business now see no customers. People are cutting back sharply. Charging stations in cities have dozens of charging piles but only a few cars. Many wait until after midnight when electricity drops to 0.66 yuan per unit. Companies are slashing salaries by 40 percent across the board. In first-tier cities, laid-off white-collar workers pretend to go to work sitting in Starbucks or libraries to update their resumes while hiding their situation from families burdened by mortgages and child-rearing costs. Former office workers now drive for ride-hailing or deliver food. But platforms issue saturation warnings as too many drivers flood in. Drivers work 12 to 15 hours a day and clear only around 2,000 yuan monthly after costs. Manufacturing and construction have slowed, pushing migrant workers back to rural areas with few jobs. Many coastal factories have relocated to Southeast Asia, triggering early returns home. Debt adds crushing pressure. One man said his family pooled 500,000 yuan for a house-down payment and bride price after marriage. But now, my wife thinks I have no job and ran off with someone else. Mortgage defaults are rising. In Beijing, suburbs Guangzhou and Wuhan areas, some owners offer free house giveaways hand over the property if the buyer takes over the remaining loan. Prices have fallen below what many originally paid, leaving them facing auctions, lawsuits and being placed on the dishonest persons list that restricts travel and credit. Young people are choosing to lie flat. Post-2000 couples in Shanghai refuse car loans, mortgages or children. They earn enough to live simply and say they want freedom. Liberal arts graduates share extreme saving tips online, surviving on 100 yuan a month with vegetable noodles or creative cheap meals using leftovers and discarded items. The CCP's economic model is showing deep cracks. Structural slowdown, real estate collapse, weak consumption and factory closures have left large numbers without stable work. Flexible employment is projected to hit 320 million, but most enter it out of necessity, not choice. The expansion of education has produced graduates with skills mismatched to a slowing market. Even master's degree holders from top schools send out hundreds of resumes with little success. The result is widespread survival anxiety. People are saving aggressively because this winter is going to be very long. Many cannot admit failure to their families and keep pretending while sleeping rough or in cheap rentals. The party continues promoting bright prospects, but daily reality for ordinary Chinese is layoffs, empty markets, unpaid debts and shrinking hope. What was sold as unstoppable growth has left millions fighting for basic meals and wondering if hard work still matters. Without real fixes, this consumption downgrade and quiet desperation will only deepen. Is the entertainment industry cursed? Shocking expose, mainland male stars face sexual harassment, female actresses are just dishes. Dong Zhijun, Liu Haoran and a bunch of big stars are online looking for work. They openly said they're really idle right now. Do you think it's exaggerated that even such huge stars have to go online to find jobs? This question is making the rounds as China's film and TV sector faces a deep slump. At recent awards ceremonies, several actors publicly mentioned having plenty of free time and hoped for more opportunities turning the events into something closer to job fairs. The situation in Hengdian China's main filming hub tells the story clearly. The film and TV industry is dead, one insider said. Right now in Hengdian, there are only around 30 crews. These 30 crews include long dramas, horizontal shorts and vertical shorts. Last year, thousands of crews could be shooting on any given day. Now in June, the number has dropped sharply. Most actors, whether famous or unknown, are unemployed. It's extremely tough. Budgets have been slashed hard. Cheap, cheap. It has to be cheap. An industry source explained that with compressed costs, actors' pay gets cut first. The number of crews starting in Hengdian has fallen by 75%. Many dramas run on a total budget of just 300,000 to 500,000 yuan. Nine out of ten crews are broke. Actors who accept low pay or even work for free get priority. You can probably already guess from how I look now I've changed careers, one actor said. Do you know why I don't play eunuchs anymore? Because the emperors are all AI now. Conditions for those still working are brutal. Group actors fight fiercely for spots. 167 Hengdian drifters fighting for one group actor spot. Many sleep on the ground between shoots. One worker described starting at 2.30 a.m., assembling at 3.10 a.m. and shooting until 6.30 p.m. People are falling asleep in the rain. Sleep deprivation is common. Short dramas demand 80 episodes in five days with scripts handed out in the morning and filming in the afternoon. We don't dare pick scripts or negotiate conditions, one short drama actor said. As long as a crew starts filming and we can get some income, we're willing to endure. Shuhai Wei, an actor, described the instability. Many take back-to-back projects with almost no sleep to avoid gaps in income. When you're staying up until 2 or 3 a.m., your head feels like it's He noted the death of 33-year-old actor Jinzei in Hengdian, widely linked to overwork and possible myocardial infarction. Jinzei's ex-girlfriend shared messages, where he complained about excessive workload and pressure that outsiders could hardly understand. There were also hints of high-level sexual harassment. Similar rumors have circulated about actor Chen Xiao, who allegedly jumped from a moving car to escape harassment by a male executive years ago. The pressure affects everyone. A southern actress was filmed shivering in cold conditions. Is filming easy? She's really having a hard time. As soon as the director yells, action, you have to stand up with a smile on your face. Even established actors struggle. One said her husband, who played male leads in hundreds of films, only got one role in the past two years. Just think about how sluggish it is now. The broader economy plays a big part. With real estate troubles and slowing growth under the CCP entertainment investment has dried up. Platforms and producers chase cheap fast content like short dramas, squeezing actors further. Many extras earn just 700 yuan for a week of multiple scenes. Guilds get only 2 or 3 gigs a month. Standards are high for low-pay, tall-thin and good-looking for 80 or 90 yuan a day. The human cost is clear. Actors endure long hours, unstable income, and exploitation in an unequal system. Some pay their own travel to stay visible. Others face shady casting dinners and pressure. The CCP's push for control over culture and content has added layers of censorship and uncertainty, further hurting production. What was once a booming industry now leaves even big names idle while lower-level workers fight for scraps. The glamour on screen hides a harsh reality of overwork, financial stress, and few good options. For many in Hengdian and beyond, the dream of acting has turned into a daily struggle just to get by. Xi's anti-corruption purge deepens fear, CCP officials shift to self-preservation mode. Over the more than 13 years since CCP leader Xi Jinping took power, he has continuously promoted anti-corruption campaigns. Yet the more they fight corruption, the more corrupt it becomes. The reasons for officials being taken down have become increasingly varied from embezzlement and bribery power for money deals, to worshipping gods and praying to Buddha, superstitious feng shui practices, forming factions, and illegal borrowing. These have all become common accusations. Analysts point out that corruption is rampant within the CCP regime, and officials live in constant fear. According to data from the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection in the 10 years before Xi Jinping came to power, nearly 5 million corrupt officials were investigated. In 2025 alone, 983,000 corrupt officials were probed approaching the 1 million mark and hitting a 20-year high. From 2013 to the present, among the disciplinary announcements for more than 940 high-level officials, the reasons for investigation have expanded from initial economic crimes and moral issues, such as bribery, embezzlement, and adultery to political violations like forming factions and recklessly discussing the central leadership. More than 160 people were named for engaging in feudal superstitions, or holding superstitious beliefs, accounting for over one-sixth of the total. Independent scholar Lai Chiang-Ping pointed out that CCP officials' superstition in feng shui fortune-telling and worshipping gods and Buddha has a long history. Lai Chiang-Ping said, Corruption, political, factional alignment, frustration, wishful thinking, and all kinds of spiritual dissatisfaction have no way to resolve these issues. The only way is to pray to gods and Buddha or consult fortune-tellers to try to resolve these crises and ensure safety for their official positions and futures. Lai Chiang-Ping emphasized that many officials do not truly believe in gods or Buddha. It is purely opportunistic calculation. The CCP promotes atheism and restricts ordinary citizens' religious beliefs. Yet many high-ranking officials are obsessed with feng shui and fortune-telling. State media have exposed fallen officials who arranged feng shui setups in their offices and homes carried protective talismans, hired feng shui masters, or relocated ancestral graves in hopes of avoiding disaster. Examples include the late former CCP leader Jiang Zemin, who after suppressing Falun Gong became terrified and worshipped gods everywhere while copying the Ksitigarbha Sutra. Jiang faction high officials like Zhou Yongkang, Gu Junshan, and Bo Xilai were deeply superstitious about feng shui. Guo Baoxiong even set up a canon feng shui array in his residence to ward off misfortune. Zhu Youfu, one of the founders of the China Democracy Party, said, Seeking gods and praying to Buddha also reflects the unease in the hearts of Communist Party officials. There's a saying, when the mind is unsettled, one seeks divination and fortune-telling. When they feel insecure, they go find someone to check if there's any bad luck or impending disaster. It is all a reaction to the instability of this regime. In addition to superstition, the reasons for CCP anti-corruption campaigns keep expanding from embezzlement and bribery power-for-money transactions, to forming factions recklessly discussing the central leadership illegal borrowing, and even new terms like resignation by flight. Lai Jianping pointed out that CCP officials are obsessed with building political achievement projects, and illegal borrowing is almost a guaranteed catch. Lai Jianping added, In China today, not only are the people struggling to survive, but officials are also facing a crisis of survival. In the end, these officials have resorted to lying flat. They seek no merit, only to avoid mistakes. Zhu Yufu described the inside of the CCP as resembling a mafia-criminal syndicate, where everyone is corrupt, and everyone lives in fear. Zhu pointed out that Xi Jinping deeply believes in Mao Zedong's twisted logic of constant struggle. He must keep officials too busy with their own problems to covet his position. The so-called anti-corruption campaign is essentially killing the chicken to scare and forcing officials to obediently pledge loyalty. After the CCP's 20th National Congress, the rules for officials' promotions and self-protection have changed. Officials now face both anti-corruption reviews and political loyalty checks. The overlapping of anti-corruption efforts inspections, audits, and special rectifications means that any project approvals, fiscal allocations, or personnel arrangements handled by officials in the past can be retroactively scrutinized at any time. Many officials are now unwilling to sign documents, meet with enterprises, or handle historical problems. Local officialdom has entered a state of collective risk avoidance and waiting to see what happens. Under the CCP, the purge has expanded from investigating corruption to examining political attitudes, leaving the entire officialdom in a state of universal self-preservation. We appreciate your feedback. 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