Ten thousand words is a lot to read. You can click the button below to listen to the full audio (30 minutes, in Chinese).

I’ve decided to share this unpleasant experience so everyone can have a laugh at my expense.

My sister-in-law Gan Weiwei said to me: “You don’t love the Chinese Communist Party, you don’t love the Chinese people, and you don’t love Chinese culture. Why did you even come back to China? If you’re going to be like this, don’t contact me next time you visit!”

I’ve included the WeChat chat records and relevant social media posts at the end of this article. Writing about these unpleasant experiences serves a purpose: I hope this world has more genuine kindness, not just actions done in the name of love.

Chapter 1: Preparing to Return to China

In early 2023, flights between the US and China were gradually resuming. My wife and I were thrilled and planned a summer trip back home. Neither of us had visited China in years. My last trip was four years ago, and my wife Gan Pingping hadn’t been back in six years. We booked our tickets in mid-March. We deliberately chose mid-July to mid-August because this period included both my wife’s and her sister Gan Weiwei’s birthdays. My wife’s lunar birthday is June 20 (August 6 in 2023), and Weiwei’s is June 29 (August 15 in 2023). We looked forward to celebrating birthdays with family back home—twice!

I had long wanted to get LASIK surgery for my nearsightedness. After chatting with friends who’d had the procedure, most were satisfied with the results, so I decided to get it done during this trip. Through a college roommate, I connected with Wuhan Aier Eye Hospital, which had state-of-the-art equipment and charged only half of what the surgery would cost in the US. The procedure was straightforward: one day for examination and anti-inflammatory treatment, surgery on both eyes the next day, and a follow-up on the third day.

Our extended family had a WeChat group called “One Sino-American Family,” which included my father-in-law, mother-in-law, my mom, Weiwei and her husband Li Gan, plus Pingping and me—seven people total. I remember during the pandemic in early 2020, there was a debate in the group about wearing masks. Weiwei and Li Gan said America wouldn’t copy China’s homework, and so on. I disagreed but decided against engaging to avoid unnecessary arguments. I chose “out of sight, out of mind” and left the group. Later, when I tried to message Weiwei, I discovered she had blocked me, so I deleted her contact. For this trip, since we needed to coordinate travel plans, I rejoined the family group. But I didn’t add Weiwei as a friend again—I only interacted with her through the group for logistics. Before leaving, Pingping was worried. Over the years, Weiwei and our father-in-law had been arguing constantly. She feared that with all three households together (our family, Weiwei’s family, and our in-laws), conflicts might erupt. We mentally prepared ourselves—Weiwei might clash with her father, her mother, or her sister.

On July 16, we flew from Los Angeles to Hong Kong and connected to Wuhan. My wife and I agreed that she would help the family care for our kids during my surgery. Once I recovered, I would take over childcare while she did beauty treatments, had photos taken, or met with old friends.

We arrived in Wuhan on July 17. My in-laws and Weiwei’s family welcomed us. After lunch at a Hubei restaurant, my father-in-law and I headed to Aier Eye Hospital. During the examination that afternoon, doctors discovered some small holes in my retinal lining. They recommended laser treatment to seal the area, with the LASIK surgery to follow 10 days later. So on July 18, I had the retinal procedure, and then we all returned to the family home in Gong’an County. We visited relatives, shared meals, and chatted—everyone was happy.

Since the LASIK surgery required three days, my father-in-law planned to accompany me to Wuhan. Meanwhile, Pingping, my mother-in-law, and my mom would watch our two kids at home. The surgery on July 29 went smoothly. My father-in-law ran around helping me with everything and quickly befriended the hospital nurses. He mentioned to one nurse that his own vision had declined, and she suggested he get an examination. The checkup revealed he had a pterygium—a growth blocking his pupil and affecting his vision—that needed surgical removal. Since his pterygium surgery required two days and I needed a one-week post-op checkup in Wuhan, we decided to head home for a couple days, then return together—him for surgery, me for the follow-up.

Before his pterygium surgery, my father-in-law needed blood tests. The results showed elevated blood sugar. Doctors required his levels to normalize before proceeding. So I accompanied him to a nearby hospital for glucose monitoring. Fortunately, his levels weren’t too high, and after two days of medication, they came down. During this time, I kept updating the “One Sino-American Family” WeChat group on his surgical progress—things like needing to lower blood sugar first. Then Weiwei started demanding in the group that her father choose sides: Would Pingping or she (Weiwei) be responsible for his elderly care? Why choose Western medicine for the pterygium instead of trying Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM)? My father-in-law types slowly and didn’t know how to respond to these sudden questions in text, so he called her. He explained that a pterygium is just extra tissue growth that can only be surgically removed—TCM probably couldn’t dissolve excess flesh. Weiwei countered with examples of people whose difficult conditions were cured by TCM, arguing that issues Western medicine couldn’t solve could be fixed through TCM treatment. My father-in-law couldn’t refute her but felt that based on available information, TCM likely couldn’t address this problem. Then he said, “Whether or not I have surgery, my blood sugar is still high, and I need medication to bring it down. Can TCM tell my blood sugar is 9.5 just by taking my pulse?” Weiwei replied, “Yes! TCM practitioners can detect all these issues just by taking your pulse.” I sat there dumbfounded—it was the first time I’d heard that TCM pulse-taking could measure blood sugar levels.

My father-in-law hung up feeling troubled. Every doctor had told him pterygium removal was a simple surgery with low recurrence risk. Besides, regardless of surgery, blood sugar needed to come down to avoid diabetes and complications. He started muttering to himself, trying to figure out how to respond to Weiwei’s aggressive questions in the group. I advised him not to reply, since questions demanding people to take sides have no good answers. I said, “Your body is your own. Whether to have surgery or not, whether to take Western medicine or see TCM as Weiwei suggests—these should all be your decisions. Elderly care is also your decision to make.” After much deliberation, he decided to lower his blood sugar with Western medicine first, then proceed with the pterygium surgery.

Chapter 2: The Confrontation

August 6 was Pingping’s birthday, and relatives were preparing a big celebration at the family home in Gong’an County. Weiwei’s family lives in Wuhan, while our in-laws and my mom all live in Gong’an County, about 3.5 hours by car.

On August 4, my father-in-law and I finished our respective eye procedures and follow-ups in Wuhan. He contacted Weiwei to travel together to Gong’an for the August 6 celebration. Since Weiwei’s younger son still had fencing practice, her husband Li Gan stayed in Wuhan with him while she took their older son Xixi back for the gathering. Around 4 PM, Weiwei drove her Mercedes with three passengers (me, my father-in-law, and Xixi) from Wuhan to Gong’an County. My father-in-law sat in the front passenger seat, I sat behind Weiwei, and 14-year-old Xixi sat to my right.

Shortly after getting in the car, Weiwei asked me, “Cheng, do you plan to return to China in the future?” I said I currently had no such plans. She followed up: “What’s so great about America? Why don’t you come work in China?” I was caught off guard—I hadn’t expected such a serious topic. I replied, “I don’t want to discuss this because it involves politics. Politics, TCM, and religion are three topics I prefer not to debate.” She said, “It’s fine, we still have over three hours until we reach home. Tell us.” I maintained that I didn’t want to discuss it and focused on eating my tea eggs. But after a while, she brought it up again: “Cheng, just tell us, what’s so great about America? Why won’t you work in China? I promise not to interrupt or comment.” At this point, my father-in-law and Xixi fell quiet, waiting to hear my answer.

Seeing her persistent and seemingly sincere questioning, with only family in the car, I let my guard down. I said, “Since you really want to know, I’ll share. Let me start with America’s problems—two major issues I don’t have good solutions for: drugs and guns. Aside from these two, I think America is better than China in most aspects.” She pressed on: “Better how exactly?” I said, “News organizations have freedom to report without censorship. The two major parties compete for positions, government officials are supervised, and there’s less corruption. Also, America’s food and drug safety is better than China’s…”

I wanted to continue, but she quickly interrupted: “Cheng, you don’t love the Chinese Communist Party, you don’t love the Chinese people, and you don’t love Chinese culture. Why did you even come back to China? If you’re going to be like this, don’t contact me next time you visit!” I was stunned. This was my wife’s own sister, and I hadn’t seen her in four years since my last visit in 2019. This harsh criticism was hard to take. I said, “I do love Chinese culture. Even in America, I often read Tang and Song poetry and Lu Xun’s complete works. And I love the Chinese people too—otherwise why would I come back? While I don’t 100% agree with everything the CCP does, that doesn’t mean I oppose the CCP.”

She said, “Criticizing food safety and air pollution issues is just nitpicking. By your logic, every country has problems. America is so backward—women who are raped can’t even get abortions. Is that protecting the people?” I thought she had a point, so I replied, “The abortion law you mentioned is very controversial in America too. Not everyone agrees with the current law; many consider it a step backward, not forward.” She continued, “You say Chinese news is censored, that the government only shows people what it wants them to see. Don’t you think America has the same problem? America only shows you what it wants you to see. Your pro-America view is just worshipping power.”

I said, “It’s not really worshipping power. Because America participated in and helped end World War II, many Asian countries besides Japan should be grateful to America.” At this, she said excitedly, “America didn’t fight Japan for China’s sake—Americans did it purely for their own interests.”

She then asked my father-in-law, “Do you regret raising these ingrates? You gave them money to go to America, and then they never came back.” He answered, “They have their own choices, and we respect that.” Then she turned to me: “If it weren’t for your father-in-law, a Communist Party member, giving you money, you couldn’t have bought your houses in America. Your own mother also works at a Party-affiliated institution. If you don’t come back to China, who’s going to take care of your mother when she gets dementia someday?”

My father-in-law kept trying to smooth things over: “We can’t interfere with their choices.” Xixi also sensed the tense atmosphere and kept saying, “China and America are just different.” But Weiwei completely ignored their appeals for respect and boundaries, continuing to expound on how China can say no, how China is so powerful now, and so on. She used these ideological arguments to label me a traitor, running dog, and ingrate. I felt terrible—wrongly accused and wanting to fight back. But considering she was driving, I decided to stay silent. Even though I stopped talking, she showed no signs of stopping.

Weiwei said that because Pingping and I live in America, her husband Li Gan faced obstacles in his promotion applications. When filling out forms asking about overseas relatives, Li Gan didn’t know what to write. She also said, “Cheng, if you came to work in China, Li Gan’s brother could help you get a teaching position at Huazhong University of Science and Technology. And since Li Gan’s brother is a Party member, he has connections to help you get research funding and do well at Wuhan universities.”

Weiwei continued describing how miraculous their family’s TCM doctor was, curing all sorts of difficult conditions. Knowing the TCM topic was another minefield, I maintained my silence. I gradually realized Weiwei didn’t want to have a dialogue with me—she had set up a one-person struggle session to broadcast her views at me. Once I recognized this, I pulled out my phone and started messaging other relatives and friends about my upcoming schedule, arranging meeting times and places. I deliberately distracted myself to feel better. I noticed that all these relatives and friends on my phone were genuinely happy to hear I was back in China, eager to meet up, looking forward to reunions. Their warmth comforted me. The irony was that in reality, I was trapped in Weiwei’s car with no way to escape this struggle session. When I finished messaging and tuned back in, Weiwei was still attacking me. Her tone of voice was like that Chinese textbook phrase about being “ruthlessly cold as winter toward enemies.” Her words made me feel that choosing to work in America was selfish, that not returning to work in China made me a traitor who didn’t deserve to be in China.

Because I kept silent, after she’d been monologuing for over half an hour, she seemed to find it pointless. Before we knew it, we had entered Gong’an County, about ten minutes from my mother-in-law’s house where we’d have dinner. As the car passed a foot massage parlor, I said to Weiwei, “Sister Weiwei, could you drop me off here for a massage? I won’t join you all for dinner—I’m already full from the eggs.” She stopped to let me out. As I got off, she said, “Brother-in-law~, so sorry for saying too much today~, hope you don’t mind. These are things I needed to say before I die.” I simply replied, “No problem” and walked away. Watching her black Mercedes slowly drive off, I took a deep breath. Full from eggs? I was full from rage! Although my wife, kids, and my mom were all waiting at my mother-in-law’s house for us to eat together, I felt I needed somewhere quiet to decompress. I went to my regular foot massage place to relax.

The one-hour massage ended quickly. Afterward, I returned to my father-in-law’s house to rejoin everyone. When I walked in, I saw Weiwei and Pingping chatting at the living room table. My wife came over with concern and asked, “What exactly happened? Sister Weiwei apologized to me and your mom as soon as she got here.” I barely acknowledged them and went straight to the bedroom. Still fuming, I pulled out my phone and left the “One Sino-American Family” WeChat group. Then I walked out to the living room and told Weiwei and Pingping, “I’ve left the family group.” They looked at each other, then Weiwei said, “Why did you leave again?” I replied, “I’m a coward. When I encounter a rabid dog, all I can do is hide.” Hearing me call her a rabid dog, her expression changed instantly. Enraged, she grabbed her car keys and headed for the door. I was also extremely angry and told my wife Pingping, “I’m not sleeping here tonight. I’ll stay at my mom’s place.” My mother-in-law’s house was only about a ten-minute walk from my mom’s.

The next morning (August 5), I had calmed down somewhat. I called my wife, who was still curious about what had happened. She said Weiwei had apologized to her yesterday but didn’t explain the specifics. Weiwei only told her, “You protect Cheng like he’s your son—I was afraid you’d criticize me if I told you.” I briefly described what Weiwei had said in the car on the phone. Pingping was shocked to hear such harsh words from her sister. She told me Weiwei had stayed at a hotel last night and came back early this morning. The three of them (Weiwei, Pingping, and their father) had already reached an agreement on elderly care: Weiwei would be responsible for their mother, Pingping for their father. I said it was good they could discuss things clearly rather than arguing unclearly on WeChat. After hanging up, I felt that Weiwei’s accusations against me weren’t resolved yet, so I decided to go to my father-in-law’s house to have it out.

When I arrived, Weiwei happened to be out. My father-in-law was resting in bed after his eye surgery, still uncomfortable. Pingping stood by the bed chatting with him. I sat cross-legged on his bed and we debriefed about what had happened the day before. While we were talking, Weiwei returned. She walked to the doorway of the room, saw me, and said, “Cheng, are you still angry?” My temper flared instantly. I said, “Of course I’m angry. I came here today to tell you why I called you a rabid dog. ‘Rabid’ because you’re unreasonable; ‘dog’ because you bite everyone you see. You’ve gotten used to bullying your dad, your mom, and your sister in this family, haven’t you? They all indulge you, but I won’t!”

She shot back, “You’re even more spoiled! You wanted LASIK surgery, so you dumped the kids on Pingping.” I said, “My wife and I coordinated childcare between ourselves—what business is it of yours? When my wife goes for beauty treatments, photo shoots, or to meet friends, she hands the kids to me too. You say I don’t deserve to return to China, but I have a Chinese passport. Do you get to decide whether I can enter China?” She retorted, “Why didn’t you say all this in the car yesterday?” I replied, still sitting, “Because you were driving.” Pingping stood nearby looking tense but didn’t speak, and my father-in-law remained silent on the bed.

Weiwei walked toward me agitatedly, pointing her index finger, and said, “Cheng, I only said those things once yesterday—I need to say them once before I die!” I said, “Saying them once was already damaging enough!” She kept pointing and repeating that she’d only said it once, that she needed to say it before she died. I think her repeating “only once” was meant to imply I was being petty for getting angry over just one lecture. Laughably, she calls herself a popular psychological counselor—shouldn’t a qualified counselor know that words have power and can bring warmth or cause harm?

Some later exchanges are blurry in my memory. I can’t remember why she said, “I can’t change the fact that you’re Mike and Jordan’s father.” Besides ill intent and trying to sow discord, I can’t figure out why Weiwei used the word “dumped” to describe me and Pingping taking turns with childcare, or why she mocked her sister by saying, “You protect Cheng like he’s your son.” I don’t know if she has some delusion that I’m coercing Pingping to live in America, rather than it being my wife’s own choice. So Weiwei thought if she hurt and convinced me, her sister would resolutely leave me and return to China?

The whole direct confrontation lasted about ten minutes. Finally, Weiwei asked, “So how are we going to get along for the next few days? Tomorrow is my sister’s birthday party.” I said, “Let’s just treat each other like air.”

That afternoon, Weiwei took her son Xixi and drove back to Wuhan, skipping Pingping’s birthday celebration.

On August 6, Pingping’s birthday celebration day, almost all relatives from both sides of her parents’ families came. Everyone hadn’t seen Pingping in six years and missed our family. Throughout the whole day, everyone was chatting and laughing. After dinner, a relative pulled me aside and asked mysteriously, “What exactly happened? Why didn’t Weiwei come to the gathering? And she posted some strange things on her WeChat Moments.” I replied that Weiwei and I had had some arguments. The relative showed me two posts Weiwei had made that day. I’ve included screenshots at the end. Since Weiwei and I hadn’t been WeChat friends since 2020, I couldn’t see her Moments—these screenshots were sent to me by others.

In her Moments, Weiwei accused me of saying “TCM is witchcraft.” But I hadn’t said a single word about TCM in the group chat or in her car. I also didn’t support Taiwan independence—though I did explain why the so-called Taiwan issue exists: how the Soviet Union supported the CCP, America supported the Kuomintang, the Kuomintang lost the civil war and retreated to Taiwan, creating the current situation. I also only called her a rabid dog, not her whole family “the dog family.” Wasn’t that another attempt at sowing discord? Weiwei, under the pretense of caring for her parents, was morally blackmailing Pingping and me about our life choices. What Weiwei called me “running away from home” was actually me sleeping one night at my own mother’s house. Weiwei claimed to feel sorry for her hardworking sister, but I don’t understand how hurting the brother-in-law helps the tired sister. Weiwei claimed to love her parents, but whenever they disagreed with her, they’d face varying degrees of struggle sessions.

Weiwei’s tactic of morally blackmailing others in the name of love had been used on her mom, dad, and sister. From when Pingping and I got married in late 2010 until now, over 13 years, I’ve observed Weiwei’s battles with various family members from a distance. Weiwei blamed her mother for excessive involvement in Weiwei’s first marriage, which led to its unhappiness. Weiwei blamed her father for not handling his marriage well, which made her distrust all men and unable to find a good boyfriend or husband. Weiwei also blamed her parents for not caring for her in childhood, leaving her with grandparents instead. Weiwei blamed her parents for not guiding her career direction like other parents did, giving her only “stinking money.” Weiwei also blamed her sister because when Weiwei was attacking their father, Pingping didn’t join forces against him. For this reason, Weiwei blocked Pingping on WeChat during the pandemic. Weiwei is skilled at manipulating family—crying, making scenes, threatening, blocking, and cutting ties are her standard repertoire. Because of this, family members can only go along with her.

Since our return flight to the US on August 16 departed from Wuhan, we arrived two days early. August 15 happened to be Weiwei’s birthday, and Pingping wanted to bring Mike and Jordan to celebrate with her sister. Although I’d had unpleasantness with her sister, she’s still my wife’s blood sister, so of course I supported this arrangement. I just said I wouldn’t attend, and my wife understood. On the afternoon of the 15th, Pingping took flowers and cake to her sister’s house with our two kids. Weiwei wasn’t home—only her husband Li Gan and their two children were there. Li Gan chatted with Pingping for a while. The four kids played all afternoon. By the time Pingping left, Weiwei still hadn’t appeared.

On August 16, my father-in-law, mother-in-law, Fourth Aunt (my father-in-law’s fourth sister), and my mom saw our family of four off at Wuhan Tianhe Airport, completing our month-long China trip.

Chapter 3: After the Confrontation

Because Weiwei demanded that my father-in-law put the elderly care arrangement (that Pingping would be responsible for his care) in writing and have it notarized, he updated his will in September to include these arrangements.

Friends and family who heard this story generally had these reactions:

1. “This is your wife’s biological sister?” Yes. But she’s also done many things unbefitting a sister. Weiwei and Pingping’s birthdays are 9 days apart (Weiwei is 3 years older), so they used to celebrate around the same time when young. One year (I can’t remember exactly, maybe around 2015) in Dallas, Weiwei sent Pingping a voice message: “Happy birthday, sis!” Pingping was listening with me right beside her, and I recognized Weiwei’s voice. The only problem was it was around January. I also stared wide-eyed and asked Pingping, “Is this your biological sister?”
2. “Is she jealous of you?” It’s possible. From her aggressive demands in the group that her father take sides—TCM or Western medicine, her or her sister for elderly care—I think my father-in-law is a rational person. He’s never opposed TCM or Western medicine. He believes in using whichever can cure the illness.
3. “Is she trying to claim more inheritance?” Probably not. My father-in-law has clearly written in his will that my mother-in-law, Weiwei, and Pingping each get one-third.
4. “She wants you to return to China so you’ll have family nearby.” To extract such deep goodwill from such hostile words—probably only a birth mother could reach that interpretation. To this day, indeed only my mother-in-law (the birth mother) holds this view.
5. “Is she well-educated?” Yes—undergraduate and master’s degrees from Hubei Institute of Fine Arts, and she was once a lecturer there.

My mother-in-law told me, “Weiwei was wrong to say that, but you should still forgive her.” I was quite surprised—my mother-in-law wasn’t criticizing her daughter or asking her to sincerely apologize to me, but asking me, the injured party, to forgive her daughter. Surprised as I was, I understood why Weiwei is so domineering—at over forty, she still has people indulging her. Having witnessed Weiwei’s ferocity in attacking her parents and Pingping, I wasn’t too surprised that she showed no boundaries with me, a relative by marriage. I remember in 2005, I happened to share a bus with Pingping’s grandmother from Wuhan to Gong’an County. The family knew we were dating by then. I sat next to her grandmother and chatted the whole way. Her grandmother had cared for both Pingping and Weiwei when they were young and knew them both well. She told me, “Between the two sisters, Pingping has more conscience”—meaning Pingping has more empathy. Looking back, she saw things quite clearly.

I’m grateful to my father-in-law, mother-in-law, and my wife. First, when I was arguing with Weiwei, all three wisely stayed out of it. Second, I understand my mother-in-law wanting us to reconcile—after all, she believes family members don’t hold overnight grudges.

Weiwei’s approach of uniting some people to attack another isn’t unfamiliar to me. Not only did political struggles in history books work this way, but my grandfather also managed his relationships with his children this way. For as long as I can remember, my grandfather would always designate one of his four children as a negative example, then have the other three criticize them. The four children took turns in the hot seat—my uncle (father’s older brother), my aunt (father’s older sister), my father, and my younger aunt (father’s younger sister) all sat in the “class enemy” position for varying lengths of time. Ranked by duration: my father > uncle > younger aunt > older aunt. I strongly disagreed with my grandfather’s approach of uniting some children to attack another. But he was two generations above me, and after my father passed away, he financially supported me through school. So when my grandfather wanted to give me political lectures on topics where we disagreed, I could tolerate it. But now, if Weiwei, a peer, wants to call me an ingrate and lecture me politically, I won’t buy it.

I later learned Weiwei said I’m a PhD and professor yet showed no grace in arguing with her. Apparently in Weiwei’s dictionary, “grace” means the same as “pushover” in mine—getting bitten but not fighting back and pretending nothing happened. Such “grace” she can keep for herself.

I’m not afraid of Weiwei attacking me. After all, I’m no longer a timid child, and I don’t have the celebrity burden of keeping “family shame within the family.” The books I’ve read over the years have given me wisdom and courage to bravely say “no” to baseless accusations from toxic people. Special thanks to Tara Westover’s book Educated (Chinese title: You Should Fly to Your Mountain Like a Bird). This book gave me the courage to cut ties with certain relatives. My grandfather was also someone who formed factions within the family to attack others. His four children would be designated as negative examples in rotation, and he would unite the other three to criticize that one. Year after year, the household was in chaos with no peace. I remember when I was in my second year of high school, my grandfather once gave my mom some counterfeit hundred-yuan bills. Dissatisfied, I went to confront him. He harshly said I was ungrateful and ferociously told me to get out of his house. I stood at his doorway not knowing what to do while his dog (named Laibao) kept wagging its tail at me, wanting to play. After my grandfather passed away, the extended family relationships became much more harmonious. When I talked about this counterfeit bill incident with the Nie family during this trip, I felt my grandfather had been too cruel to me. But family members just laughed and started sharing their own stories of being attacked in various ways. After listening, I felt that being kicked out by my grandfather was actually a light punishment.

Whether you or I live in China or America, regardless of which camp we belong to on politics, TCM, or religion, we’re all just ordinary people. It’s not that only the way you or I approve of is definitely right. Mutual respect and genuine kindness are most important. I don’t plan to have any contact with Weiwei for now. I feel there are too many respectful relatives and friends to see when I return to China. On this point, Weiwei and I actually agree—spend less time with people you don’t click with.

I hope this world has more genuine kindness, not just actions done in the name of love.

Chat Records from “One Sino-American Family” WeChat Group

Weiwei’s First WeChat Moments Post

Weiwei’s Second WeChat Moments Post