2026年9月10日

After Skyrocketing to Fame, Guo Youcai and Li Xiaohua’s Popularity Plummets — Even “Chicken Cutlet Brother” Can’t Escape the Same Fate

After Reaching Viral Stardom, Guo Youcai and Li Xiaohua Have Faded from the Spotlight — and “Chicken...

After Reaching Viral Stardom, Guo Youcai and Li Xiaohua Have Faded from the Spotlight — and “Chicken Cutlet Brother” Seems Destined to Follow the Same Path

Recently, “Chicken Cutlet Brother” from Jingdezhen has become the latest internet sensation. In just a few days, his humble food stall turned into a national attraction — swarmed by livestream cameras, short-video influencers, and tourists from across the country. The scene felt less like a local food stop and more like a nationwide festival.

But behind this wave of frenzy, one poignant online comment went viral:
“A crowd of spiritually impoverished people rush toward one vibrant soul, draining his energy to fill their own emptiness. Every year, the internet sacrifices one person to the altar of fame — everyone profits, except the one being worshipped.”
This remark struck a nerve with countless netizens, perfectly capturing the harsh reality of the short-video era — the cycle of viral fame and inevitable burnout.

Looking at “Chicken Cutlet Brother’s” rise, it’s hard not to feel a sense of déjà vu. Last year, it was Guo Youcai, whose heartfelt rendition of Promise warmed millions of hearts and drew tens of millions of viewers into his livestreams. Then came hairstylist Li Xiaohua, whose skilled hands and humble sincerity landed him in mainstream headlines. Yet today, their fame has long faded. The crowds are gone, the livestream rooms are silent, and these once-beloved “people’s idols” have quietly returned to ordinary life. “Chicken Cutlet Brother’s” meteoric rise feels like the start of yet another turn in this endless wheel.

This “boom–burnout–oblivion” rhythm reveals the brutal nature of today’s attention economy. In the age of short videos, algorithms dictate exposure, emotions drive traffic, and audiences chase “authenticity” and “relatability” — while unknowingly consuming the very people they admire. “Chicken Cutlet Brother” became famous precisely because he felt real — warm, genuine, and grounded in everyday life. Yet, once countless lenses fixate on him, that authenticity becomes magnified, commercialized, and distorted. His stall ceases to be a place to sell food; it becomes a stage. He is no longer just a vendor, but a vessel for millions of people’s emotions.

The cruel irony is that the true winners of viral fame are rarely those at the center of it. While these individuals may briefly enjoy fame and income, they are quickly swept aside by the next wave. The real beneficiaries — platforms, agencies, secondary content creators, and opportunistic marketers — walk away with the lasting rewards. When the spotlight fades, those once-celebrated faces are often left with disrupted lives and broken peace.

“Chicken Cutlet Brother’s” story may be no different. Viral attention always fades, and the internet’s gaze is as fleeting as it is fierce. Yet that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be appreciated — only that our enthusiasm should be tempered with respect. For an ordinary person to be seen should be an act of kindness, not a ritual of sacrifice at the altar of traffic.

Perhaps the question we should be asking is not “Who’s trending now?” but “Why do we always need someone to burn for our attention?” Because when the frenzy ends, the people we once watched will return to the quiet reality of everyday life — while we move on, already searching for the next story to consume. What do you think?

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