Why Can't Students From Tsinghua and Peking University Tell the Difference Between Goose Legs and Duck Legs?

Oxidised food and products are everywhere in China and are impossible to guard against. (Video screenshot)

[People News] Recently, the 'Goose Leg Auntie' incident from Peking University has gone viral online. Chen Xiufeng, an ordinary vendor who became famous for her 'inspirational auntie and conscientious business' starting from the southwest gate of Peking University, was exposed for selling duck legs disguised as goose legs to students for 16 yuan each, while falsely branding herself as 'Goose Leg Auntie' for over a decade.

Following the incident, the Haidian District Market Supervision Administration in Beijing intervened to investigate. Chen Xiufeng issued a personal apology, and related social media posts from Peking University were deleted. After some students discovered that their 'goose legs' were actually duck legs, they collectively expressed that 'sentiment outweighs taste' in support of Chen Xiufeng, turning the incident into an unexpected highlight and source of humour.

What began as a common event reflecting the decline of integrity among small vendors in the chaotic society under the Communist Party unexpectedly trended online, highlighting multiple social governance issues within the Communist Party, including the moral risks faced by grassroots entrepreneurs, the knowledge gaps and emotional backgrounds of elite students, the fragility of consumer emotional investment, and the systemic collapse of food safety governance in China.

The profit temptation behind the smooth transition from 'goose leg' to 'duck leg'

Chen Xiufeng's story is a typical narrative of struggle from the lower social strata. Hailing from a rural village in Jiangsu, she initially sold fruits around Peking University before transitioning to barbecuing. In the beginning, she did use goose legs, but after one or two months, due to issues like tight supply and high costs, she quickly replaced them with cheaper duck legs.

The price disparity between duck legs and goose legs is quite pronounced, with duck legs averaging 2 yuan each, making them more accessible, easier to process, and handle. In contrast, goose legs are priced at 30 yuan each. Despite this, after being swapped, the duck legs were still marketed by Chen Xiufeng under the label 'secretly made goose legs,' using strong seasonings to disguise the quality differences. Following her rise to fame, she was even invited to share her 'conscientious business experience' at Peking University, where she emphasised her commitment to avoiding food safety issues. The contrast is indeed striking.

How did 'Goose Leg Auntie' manage to evade market regulations? Reports indicate that she created fifty to sixty WeChat groups, amassing over 100,000 users at one point. By relying on orders from these groups and the heartfelt calls of 'Auntie, you’ve worked hard,' she transformed internet carpet barbecues into a highly profitable hidden business.

'Goose Leg Auntie' rented a 'central kitchen' offline for an annual fee of 200,000 yuan, employing staff to grill meat, achieving a daily output of up to 500 pieces, with peaks nearing 1,000. She also registered numerous trademarks across various categories. Consequently, 'Goose Leg Auntie' acquired multiple properties in Beijing, and her son now drives a Land Rover. While her business has flourished and her assets have increased in value, her conscience and integrity have notably declined. By avoiding food delivery platforms and relying solely on WeChat for orders, without a physical storefront, she has sidestepped the qualification checks of delivery services and evaded health regulations for offline businesses. Many students later reported that the goose legs from 'Goose Leg Auntie' had developed a greenish hue, yet they did not question or think much about it.

This situation goes beyond a mere collapse of the Aunt Goose Leg persona; it represents a prolonged conflict between the moral hazards driven by high profits and commercial interests. The inaction or covert protection offered by the regulatory system of the Chinese Communist Party has amplified these unscrupulous business practices, putting consumer health and safety at risk. Across the nation, barbecues are substituting lamb with duck, chicken is being disguised as tenderloin, fish balls are often devoid of fish, and incidents such as lychee meat soaked in medicinal solutions and rat heads being passed off as duck necks in university canteens are increasingly common.

Furthermore, many unscrupulous vendors are employing deceptive marketing strategies. For instance, 'Qinghai Lake Salt' uses 'Qinghai Lake' as a trademark, 'One Head of Native Pig Meat' uses 'One Head of Native' as a trademark, and the entire phrase 'Aunt Goose Leg' is a trademark. She frequently posts on her WeChat, 'Goose legs have arrived,' to avoid specific accountability. The pressing question is, who permitted these trademarks to enter the consumer market so openly? Is there a transfer of interests behind this?

The 'taste bud dysfunction' and emotional premium of students from Tsinghua and Peking University

The most ridiculed in this incident are students from prestigious institutions like Peking University and Tsinghua University, who have consumed Aunt Goose Leg's barbecue for years yet cannot tell the difference between goose legs and duck legs. Goose legs are larger, with coarser fibres and a wilder flavour, while duck legs are smaller, with tender meat that can have a fishy taste. Although heavy seasoning and grilling diminish these differences, they can still be discerned by those with experience. Why are the students from Tsinghua and Peking University 'collectively blind'?

Firstly, there is a structural gap in the life experiences of these students. Under the exam-oriented education system of the Chinese Communist Party, many students have been 'oblivious to the world outside their windows' since childhood, concentrating solely on rote memorisation for exams, which has led to a disparity between their ambitions and practical skills. They can identify cells and molecules but struggle to differentiate between goose legs and duck legs; they may excel academically, achieving top scores in high school, yet find themselves lost in the overwhelming flavours of Auntie Goose's dishes and the unrealistic portrayals of grassroots struggles.

Students from Tsinghua University and Peking University predominantly come from urban middle-class backgrounds, resulting in limited practical experience in rural life. Having never encountered a whole raw goose leg or tasted authentic roasted goose, they naturally lack fundamental cognitive benchmarks and essential hands-on experience. Auntie Goose's heavy seasoning and industrial processing further obscure their taste perceptions, while tenderising agents, electric ovens, and high temperatures make duck legs a highly comparable alternative to goose legs. The 'knowledge gap from textbooks to dining tables' creates a complete disconnect between elite education and everyday recognition. Therefore, it raises a significant question about the level of productivity these high-achieving university graduates can contribute to society once they enter the workforce.

Secondly, there is a paid emotional investment and sentiment involved. Students are not just buying food and the pleasure of taste; they are also engaging with a narrative that aligns with the Chinese Communist Party's portrayal of suffering as an inspirational story of rising from humble beginnings. The hardworking aunties, the warmth of late-night campus snacks, and the grassroots support for small businesses all contribute to this narrative. The auntie selling goose legs is presented as an inspirational figure, and impressionable students easily become emotionally invested. Some may suspect that it is actually duck leg, but they choose to overlook this, reasoning that 16 yuan is not too much, and acknowledging the auntie's struggles; they are essentially purchasing a sense of youth and sentiment. In this self-affirming group dynamic, publicly questioning the situation equates to a historical denial of one's self-worth. Whether intentionally or unintentionally, sentiment pays for deception, and the emotional mechanisms that excuse unscrupulous behaviour amplify the absurdity of this social event, reflecting the chaotic values in Chinese Communist society where good and evil are blurred, and values are in constant flux.

Furthermore, there is a selective failure of critical thinking. Students from Tsinghua and Peking University are trained to question everything in their academic fields, yet in everyday life, especially in emotionally charged situations, they tend to lower their guard. The illusion of safety within their closed ivory tower leads them to believe that campus vendors would not deceive them. The cost of questioning can provoke ridicule, and more significantly, it represents a certain alignment with the official narrative of the Chinese Communist Party. The official Peking University even publicly supported the auntie selling goose legs, and the rhythm of the official narrative is not to be challenged. Although Peking University later deleted all tweets related to the auntie after the incident, in an effort to maintain its reputation and uphold political correctness, it did not take responsibility or admit fault. Its students, whether out of political conformity or a desire to show allegiance, certainly would not harshly criticise the auntie selling goose legs.

The Systemic Stubborn Disease of Food Safety Issues in the Chinese Communist Party

The case of the 'Auntie with Goose Legs' is far from an isolated incident; it represents a recurring issue within the food safety sector under the Chinese Communist Party. Incidents such as the 2023 Jiangxi Industrial Vocational College mouse head duck neck scandal, the 2024 mixed edible oil incident involving tank trucks, southern fruit growers refusing to consume high-pesticide fruits, as well as historical cases of toxic milk powder and gutter oil raise the question: why do food safety problems in China persist despite repeated prohibitions?

Experts have identified various contributing factors, including stringent enforcement by relevant authorities, distorted economic incentives and low penalties for illegal activities, fragmented regulatory oversight and enforcement shortcomings, issues related to the source environment and industrial structure, and a lack of trust and supervision mechanisms, among others. The root of the problem lies in the decades-long materialistic value orientation and self-serving educational model promoted by the Chinese Communist Party, which has led to a significant decline in social morality. In the relentless pursuit of profit, there is no wrongdoing they will not engage in, no official who is not corrupt, and no business that is not deceitful, resulting in society rapidly descending into a bottomless abyss. If this trend continues, it poses extreme dangers!

(First published by the People News)△