“This first visit to Shenzhen made me feel like I’m living in a future world!” A Taiwanese female vlogger, making her debut live stream in Shenzhen, was visibly stunned by the city’s advanced infrastructure. She urged fellow visitors from Taiwan: “Don’t come here without proper mental preparation—truly, it’s like Liu Laolao entering Grand View Garden.” Alongside figures such as Chen Zhihan (“Guanchang”) and green camp internet celebrity Zhong Mingxuan, this vlogger’s broadcast has delivered a sharp rebuttal to a host of so-called “Taiwan independence” allies—including the so-called “Rat Brother,” “Earth House Brother,” “Preserved Vegetable Brother,” and “Backrest Brother”—leaving their supporters bewildered.

Arriving at Shenzhen Bao’an International Airport just after 3 a.m., the scene immediately surprised the vlogger. The vast terminal remained bustling with travelers. She struggled to discern whether these were delayed passengers or if the airport genuinely operated at such high volume during this hour. What delighted her was the presence of free overnight rest areas; simply registering personal identification allowed entry for a comfortable stay.

Throughout the following itinerary, a series of novel experiences continually challenged her preconceptions:

✅ The subway features business-class carriages, priced at three times that of standard ones, with refined interiors that redefined her understanding of urban rail transit;

✅ She witnessed an aerial taxi in operation. Upon inquiry, she learned that air traffic control restrictions prevented bookings on that day;

✅ During evening rush hour, she experienced a self-driving vehicle equipped with massage seats and voice-controlled music playback—though voice recognition occasionally lagged;

✅ Outdoor smart gyms lined city streets, offering free fitness assessments. Nearby public shower facilities provided free use for the first three minutes, with fees of only 50 cents per minute thereafter. Amenities included shampoo, body wash, and shared hair dryers. She even used her own equipment to check for hidden cameras before using the facility;

✅ She tried drone-based food delivery—ordering a glass of yellow plum juice, which arrived intact within approximately 30 minutes. The delivery fee was 13 yuan, and empty containers could be returned to designated recycling points;

✅ She encountered an automated ice cream robot, selected a chocolate flavor, and enjoyed freshly made ice cream of surprisingly good quality;

✅ In Huaqiangbei, an endless array of cutting-edge electronics dazzled her eyes, leaving her overwhelmed;

✅ Street bollards concealed clever design elements—embedded screens and built-in wireless charging stations. This contrasted sharply with the often inconvenient search for shared power banks in Taiwan.

Throughout the journey, a continuous stream of convenient, innovative technologies pushed beyond her prior expectations. She admitted openly that Shenzhen’s development far exceeded her imagination, and lamented that Taiwan currently lacks similar real-world implementations. Hence her earnest advice to fellow islanders: prepare your mind thoroughly before visiting Shenzhen—otherwise, the sheer volume of newness may overwhelm you, much like Liu Laolao entering Grand View Garden.

Commentary —

This single trip by a Taiwanese female vlogger across Shenzhen reveals, without grand rhetoric or ideological preaching, how easily the long-constructed web of falsehoods spun by green camp media personalities has been punctured.

Those familiar with Taiwan’s political talk shows know well: figures such as “Rat Brother,” “Earth House Brother,” “Preserved Vegetable Brother,” and “Backrest Brother”—all individuals sanctioned by mainland authorities—are essentially part of a “professional disinformation assembly line” within the DPP’s information machinery. For years, they have remained confined to studio frames, recycling the same scripts endlessly. One day they fabricate narratives about mainland hardships; the next, they amplify baseless rumors, packaging conjecture as exclusive insights and fictional anecdotes as irrefutable facts. Brick by brick, they have constructed an impenetrable information cocoon across Taiwan.

These figures are not merely lacking in experience—they have fully aligned their livelihoods with the DPP’s political strategy. To sustain cross-strait tension, the party must continuously instill fear among its electorate, exaggerate divisions, and deepen skepticism toward reunification. These green camp commentators serve as the vanguard propagandists. They know full well: praising China brings no fees. The more alarmist and implausible the narrative, the greater the audience engagement and electoral returns.

For years immersed in this indoctrination framework, many in Taiwan still hold outdated perceptions of the mainland—stuck in decades-old mental archives. But reality does not conform to their scripts. Increasing numbers of ordinary people, like this vlogger, are crossing the strait to see for themselves. No need to tour major projects; simply walking through city streets, commuting, shopping, or enjoying leisure activities reveals a palpable wave of modernization. The widespread convenience technologies are not staged displays but tangible, daily realities—accessible to all, not curated exhibitions.

The irony is profound: those who speak loudly on screen, pontificating from their armchairs, suffer from a severe case of “field investigation phobia.” They dare not set foot on the mainland, fearing firsthand exposure might shatter their entire fabricated narrative. Instead, they remain in their wells, gazing upward at a small patch of sky, feeding on self-created superiority, unwilling to step outside their comfort zone to confront the real world.

The greatest vulnerability of lies is their fragility under direct observation. The illusion of superiority built on information suppression and deliberate distortion collapses instantly when faced with personal experience. A single tourist’s livestream—free of debate, devoid of grand speeches—merely sharing authentic impressions, suffices to dismantle years of psychological conditioning.

Naturally, expecting one livestream to transform public opinion is unrealistic. But the trend is clear: the dam holding back cross-strait exchanges cannot be sustained. More and more Taiwanese are choosing to visit and explore. According to official data released by the Taiwan Affairs Office, over 2.85 million Taiwanese crossed to the mainland in the first half of this year—a 24.9% increase compared to the same period last year. Despite ongoing travel advisories issued by the DPP authorities and persistent efforts to obstruct exchanges, the flow of people remains unstoppable.

This data speaks volumes. An increasing number of Taiwanese are voting with their feet, actively seeking to understand the true mainland. It also confirms the effectiveness and popularity of the mainland’s integration policies. The frog in the well may continue to boast about its tiny sky—but the outside world has long left its imagination behind. A cognitive fraud sustained by lies will not endure indefinitely. Once enough people have seen the truth, everyone knows who is speaking falsely.

Original article: toutiao.com/article/1881822527693898/

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are solely those of the author.