The operations team at [Dou Dong] quickly noticed this video as well, keeping a close eye on the backend data. The rapid increase in views was highly unusual.
They immediately checked the data to see if it had been artificially inflated, but the growth pattern in the backend appeared completely normal.
The operations staff promptly reported this to their superiors. After all, although [Dou Dong] had only been operating for two years, user growth had already slowed significantly. While there had been some viral hits before, this one was entirely different.
The account “Shang Lu” had not only caught the attention of the platform but also other content creators.
Despite the video’s noticeably rough quality, both likes and comments were shockingly high, indicating an exceptionally high user retention rate!
On the [Dou Dong] platform, it was common for creators to jump on trends. Once a particular theme went viral, others would quickly follow suit.
However, given the overall cultural and entertainment environment, most content was overwhelmingly positive and uplifting. Videos like Shang Lu’s, which were so “down-to-earth,” were rarely seen.
The truth was, the public’s tastes weren’t that refined—melodrama was king!
In the professional terms of Shang Lu’s past life, this was the “sinking market.”
The general public could certainly appreciate elegant and serious videos, but content that appealed to both refined and popular tastes—or even leaned toward the “vulgar”—tended to attract the widest attention.
If Shang Lu’s first viral hit was an accident, the release of her second video, which garnered even more likes and comments than the first, finally made other creators uneasy.
The platform’s overall traffic was limited. With Shang Lu taking such a large share, there was naturally less left for others!
[Doudong] had several official groups. Creators with over ten million followers naturally received special treatment from the platform.
Those with over a million followers were the backbone of the platform.
Casual chatting wasn’t allowed in the official groups. “Two Days One Jiao,” a food blogger with nearly 30 million followers and one of the earliest creators on the platform, had taken the initiative to create a free chat group. This group included both major creators and newcomers with fewer than ten thousand followers.
At this moment, the group was buzzing with one topic: “Why are Shang Lu’s videos so popular?”
[This Shang Lu must be an alt account of some big shot, right? Come forward and claim it, and maybe we can learn a thing or two and get a piece of the pie.]
[+1, big shot, show yourself! How did you do it? Every video you post goes viral, and with just two videos, you’ve already gained a million followers. That’s insane!]
[Stop looking. I asked the platform—this is a newcomer. She’s not in our group or any official group. Rumor has it the platform hasn’t even been able to contact her. Maybe she’s backed by a company.]
[Since she’s not here, stop kissing up. It’s disgusting. What trash videos—anyone who likes them has no taste at all.]
[Exactly, why is the platform promoting this kind of stuff? My videos are so much better, but they never get pushed. They only promote this garbage. Shang Lu must be the platform owner’s account.]
As the discussion continued, the conversation in the group suddenly turned hostile toward Shang Lu.
Many smaller creators, in particular, felt unrecognized. They believed their high-quality videos were being suppressed by the platform’s algorithms, while only trash content was being promoted. They saw it as blatant favoritism!
Aside from criticizing Shang Lu, some also lashed out at the platform’s recommendation system, calling it broken and devoid of taste, and accusing it of being rigged.
More extreme voices even called for Shang Lu to be banned, insisting on resisting those who disrupted the platform’s order.
Zhu Xueping was an early beta user of the 【Doudou】 platform and occasionally shared snippets of her life. However, due to her low posting frequency and lack of deliberate persona-building, her follower count had stagnated around 600,000 for quite some time.
As a veteran of the platform who was generally amiable and had connections with many content creators, she also served as a moderator in the group chat.
Seeing the conversation take an increasingly inappropriate turn, even escalating to personal attacks, she immediately stepped in.
【The purpose of this group was to foster mutual exchange, not mutual attacks. A content platform should naturally embrace diversity. Just because you’re jealous of someone’s success doesn’t mean you can have them banned. What if others took a dislike to you—could they have you banned too?】
Her words were reasonable, of course, but to others, they came across as smug and dismissive.
【Look, a dog has come out to claim its master! I bet you’re just Shang Lu’s alt account. You put on such a good act in your main account videos, but behind the scenes, you pull this kind of stunt?】
【How can someone like this even be a moderator? Where’s the group admin? Why aren’t they stepping in?】
Zhu Xueping’s intervention only redirected the fire toward herself, and everyone began attacking her. Fuming, she defended herself in the group.
【I’m just calling it as I see it. I don’t even know Shang Lu.】
But in the face of heightened emotions, such explanations felt utterly feeble.
With a dozen people ganging up on Zhu Xueping, even if she had ten mouths, she couldn’t possibly argue them all down.
Most of the bigger creators with substantial followings stayed conspicuously silent on the matter.
They were all afraid of screenshots being leaked and the drama spilling onto the wider internet.
The smaller creators, however, had no such fears, and they were the ones stirring up the most trouble.
There was one exception, though: the comedy blogger “Brother Dashan,” who had 9 million followers.
He usually posted videos featuring himself, which had quickly amassed a large fanbase. Seeing Shang Lu as a competitor in the same niche, he launched fierce criticisms.
Of course, he wasn’t foolish enough to use his main account for this; instead, he employed a secret alt account that no one knew about.
【This Shang Lu is clearly a corporate-backed account. If we don’t resist now, individual creators will never have a chance to break through—they’ll all be crushed by companies.】
【Such low-quality videos only go viral because the platform deliberately pushes them. The platform plays favorites, and we must resist this unethical behavior!】
Brother Dashan kept fueling the fire, one inflammatory comment after another, as if their very survival depended on getting Shang Lu banned.
But soon, a link appeared in the group: 【Shang Lu is going live. Why don’t you just ask her directly?】
The reason Shang Lu decided to go live was actually at the platform’s suggestion.
After her two videos, not only had they sparked major controversy on 【Doudou】, but they had even caught the attention of official media outlets.
【Doudou】’s management, unwilling to shoulder the blame, simply reached out to Shang Lu, asking her to provide an explanation. In return, they promised to boost her stream. Such a golden opportunity for exposure was not something Shang Lu would pass up.
A flood of users, including many creators, poured into the livestream. Instead of a real person, they were greeted by a fox plush toy. The comment section was scrolling rapidly.
【Where’s the person? Why is it a toy?】
【Is Shang Lu too scared to show her face because she’s afraid of getting attacked?】
Suddenly, a distinctly voice-modulated female voice came through.
“I am Shang Lu, and the videos I make are not trash. They are loved by the people. If you don’t like them, who do you think you are?”
Everyone in the livestream was stunned. How could the first sentence of the broadcast start with an insult? But some people’s eyes lit up upon hearing this.
[Hahaha, well said! I love watching them. To those who call them trash, who do you think you are!]
[Ban Shang Lu! Ban Shang Lu! Ban Shang Lu!]