Penguin News: [What Will Happen to Adidas If They Refuse to Apologize?]
Today's Headlines: [Gu Peng, Li Fei, Yang Xinbo, Zhang Ning, and Other Celebrities Speak Out in Support]
Sina News: [Chu Zhi Refuses Any Form of Apology!]
The headlines were everywhere. Viewers drawn in by the news were united in sentiment. No trolls dared to speak up in opposition this time.
"Chu Zhi isn't like any other celebrity. So direct. I used to be a loyal Adidas customer, but if you insult my country, sorry—I won't accept it."
"I saw that ad. Brain-dead. Support Chu Zhi, full boycott."
"Holy crap, are there still celebrities this courageous in today's entertainment industry? Adidas hasn't even taken down that international ad. Enough talk. No apology accepted."
"I usually hate it when someone claims to speak for me—but this time, Chu Zhi absolutely represents my stance."
"+1. He represents me too."
"+2."
Comments like "He represents me" piled up, thousands of replies deep.
The scandal had grown so big it rocked the upper management at Adidas China, even reaching the headquarters in Germany.
This was where Chu Zhi's influence diverged from the average A-lister. His personal reach wasn't limited to China. His followers on platforms like Instagram and Twitter made him an international name.
"Adidas Permanently Boycotted by Chu Zhi" became a trending topic in South Korea, Japan, Thailand, Russia, and Vietnam. Headquarters had no choice but to respond.
Adidas Greater China CEO He Gang had been relaxing on a yacht when the call from Germany came in. The conversation lasted ten minutes—plenty of scolding, even if it stopped short of a full-blown tirade.
"We expect this news to die down by tomorrow morning." Click.
The mood shattered, He Gang scrambled to open his phone. No search needed. The front page of Baidu blared: [Adidas Owes Us an Apology].
After scrolling for a few minutes and realizing the full scope of the damage, He Gang began contacting senior management. An emergency video conference was scheduled.
Director Wu from the Product Department had been goofing off who knows where, and only learned about the issue after the meeting began.
When he read Chu Zhi's "till death" statement, his pupils shrank. It hit him like a cement truck to the soul.
"How dare Chu Zhi?!" Wu sputtered.
That was the question haunting every Adidas executive at the table.
"We need a plan now," He Gang said, trying to shift blame. "Director Wu, didn't you say you had already finalized negotiations with Chu Zhi's team? Mr. Max [from HQ] wants to know how we got here."
"There must've been a communication error, I..."
"A misunderstanding won't solve anything," He Gang snapped. "Just finish what you should've handled from the start. Convince Chu Zhi's side to backtrack."
Backtrack? That was impossible. Chu Zhi had made his stance crystal clear, live in front of reporters. Wu opened his mouth to protest, but the moment had passed.
"This was your job to handle," He Gang said coldly.
"You were the one who ordered this in the first place." Wu clenched his fists but said nothing aloud.
Within half an hour, a damage control plan was drafted.
Not a single exec—from Germany or China—believed the ad itself was the problem. The problem was that it had gotten out of hand.
The brand's classic whitewashing playbook: control comments, issue an apology, donate money.
First, Adidas posted a public apology on their official site:
"Due to a communication issue with the director, we regret the misunderstanding caused by our recent ad. The Summer Radiance campaign has been removed."
Coincidentally, that same director was soon "exposed" as a known racist, with other dirt surfacing fast.
This move shifted blame onto the director. Then came the waves of controlled comments to rehab the brand's image:
"Hiring that director was just bad luck."
"Mistakes happen. The real fault lies with production oversight."
Some trolls also chimed in:
"Chu Zhi wasn't even an Adidas ambassador. Is he trying to build a patriotic persona for clout?"
The next day, Adidas donated five million yuan to the Red Cross to help underprivileged children in remote areas.
Normally, this formula worked like a charm. But not this time. They'd underestimated Chu Zhi—and the ferocity of his fanbase, the Little Fruits.
You can pay trolls, but how do you fight the unbreakable will of Weibo fangirls?
No matter how many comments they tried to control, the trolls got demolished. The Little Fruits didn't back down.
This wasn't a debate—it was a rout.
Even attempts to erase the trending topics failed. The Little Fruits were relentless.
Then came the real blow: a wave of mass returns at Adidas' online stores on JD and Tmall. Customers even flooded into physical locations asking for refunds.
It was direct, undeniable financial loss.
Meanwhile, Little Fruits dug up years of product complaints. Just in China alone, the backlash was overwhelming. Add in overseas damage, and it became a total nightmare.
In most countries, news like this wouldn't affect casual consumers. But K-pop and J-pop fans? They're extremely loyal to idols.
In South Korea, fans of Apostle even held a "No Adidas" campaign. Their message: no Adidas items in our homes.
Japan acted even faster. The next day, Adidas was voted the most disliked brand on "GU Net", a consumer watchdog site for Amazon shoppers.
GU Net's ratings are notoriously hard to manipulate, unlike Amazon's easy-to-bribe review system. Yet somehow, a flood of Japanese doll collectors [read: Chu Zhi fans] managed to push Adidas straight to the top.
Adidas is a global Fortune 500 company, with over 20 billion euros in annual sales last year. But Greater China had been its key growth engine for 27 straight quarters of double-digit increases.
Its three key regions were Greater China, EMEA, and North America.
If China collapsed, they were in serious trouble.
If yesterday had been a corporate slap, today was a fatal punch. Adidas CEO Max flew straight from Munich to Shanghai to oversee the cleanup personally.
Chu Zhi's agency was swamped. Qi Qiu had fielded dozens of calls.
"Mr. Qi, we're prepared to show sincerity. Please, let's resolve this." That was He Gang, pleading on the line.
Meanwhile, Director Wu from Product was fired the same day Max arrived in China.
"Mr. He, I don't think there's anything to discuss anymore," Qi Qiu replied bluntly.
Tried to act high and mighty? Try staying that way now.
When begging didn't work, He Gang changed his tune—he threatened to sue Chu Zhi and demand compensation.
Qi Qiu just laughed and hung up.
"What a clown," he muttered.
He even shared it as a joke in the agency group chat.
Scared? Not in the slightest. Everyone knew the official stance. They were ready, even for a lawsuit.
A week passed. Adidas had no countermeasures.
In China, their online sales dropped by 48% in seven days. Physical stores fared slightly better—only a 20% drop. But still a cliff.
Internationally, estimates showed a combined 11.7% loss across Japan and Korea. Their quarterly report was ruined.
CEO Max never expected one Chinese celebrity to create such a massive issue under his leadership.
There was only one move left—sacrifice the pawns to save the king.
The parent company issued an official statement:
"Due to severe mismanagement in the Greater China division, we are terminating CEO He Gang and two other executives."
The Greater China region's head was quietly replaced as well. The public explanation? Routine appointment changes.
Ten days after the Awards Night, Adidas hired a new regional CEO, who gave a speech:
"We will honor Chinese culture and create culturally tailored sportswear. Our next sneaker line will be the 'Red Kunlun' series."
It was a desperate attempt to win back the Chinese market.
But—
The sting of humiliation doesn't fade that easily. And the Little Fruits didn't care about "Red Kunlun". They cared about what their idol thought.
Miao Tan, watching it all unfold, was stunned:
"Can a single celebrity really have this kind of power? Take down a Fortune 500 brand? I heard not just He Gang, but the entire Greater China leadership got replaced."
Miao Tan was a loyal Zhihu user. He quickly logged in to see what the experts were saying.
One of the top-liked replies, from user "Little Flame":
"First, I have deep respect for Mr. Chu Zhi.
But let me be clear—it wasn't Chu Zhi alone who brought down Adidas. It was the collective action of millions of netizens. Faced with that tidal wave, Adidas never stood a chance.
Chu Zhi was the whistleblower. He was the first to charge. Behind him stood the Little Fruits.
How powerful were they? In just two days, they gathered over four thousand complaints about Adidas products.
Without Chu Zhi putting his future on the line, Adidas would've only swapped He Gang—not the entire leadership of Greater China.
Chu Zhi's influence across Asia forced them to act.
And when I say he risked his future, I'm not exaggerating. What foreign luxury brand would dare hire him now? They all have skeletons.
I doubt Armani, Montblanc, or Dior will renew his contracts.
That's why I call him 'Mr. Chu Zhi.' He's no longer just a celebrity.
He turned himself into a blade—the sharpest sword—for our nation's dignity.
This sword, foreign brands... have you seen it clearly yet?"