A honeymoon in western Tibet came to a tragic end in October when the newlyweds crashed their car on a mountain road after suffering from altitude sickness.
Sitting in the passenger seat, Yu Yanyan, 27, from Shanghai, was seriously injured.
Despite being taken to a local hospital, rapid bleeding and lack of adequate blood reserves meant she was unlikely to survive.
But by leveraging the couple's network and connections, Yu's husband was able to secure blood donations from local public officials and members of the public in that area of Tibet who helped stabilize his girlfriend.
Yu's father then chartered a plane to take her to a larger hospital for more advanced surgery.
The operation to save Yu's life was a remarkable effort in China, where many lack access to quality medical care, especially in remote regions such as Tibet.
Some also said it was amazing.
Success stories find a skeptical Chinese public
Bai Xinhui, who is also from Shanghai like Yu, began following the story after Yu, now in recovery, posted a video about her near-death experience.
“It was really beautiful to hear how so many people worked together and contributed to saving his life,” Bai, a 26-year-old UX designer, told Al Jazeera.
At the same time, Bai wondered if “a normal person could receive so much help.”
“Maybe she and her husband are very well-connected or come from very rich families,” Bai said.
“Maybe it's all true, maybe it's only half true,” he said, suspecting that some of the details of the rescue could have been altered to make public officials appear in a more positive light.
“Sometimes it is difficult to know what to believe and who to believe in China today,” he added.
Bai is not the only one who has reflected on the circumstances and details of Yu's ordeal.
When the story gained national media attention and went viral on Chinese social media in November and December, people began asking questions.
“How could they involve so many people to help her and how could they do it so quickly?” asked Li Xueqing, a 31-year-old marketing specialist from Suzhou.
“Chinese healthcare is very bad in many places, so I don't think Yu's story shows how patients in his situation are normally treated,” Li told Al Jazeera.
Yu's survival has gone from the story of a dramatic rescue to symbolizing rights and privileges in contemporary China, with some referring to her as the “Shanghai Princess” in Tibet.
The story became so prominent that it caused Chinese authorities and media to look for signs of irregularities regarding the resources mobilized to save Yu.
So far, there is little evidence to suggest that any abuse of position or power played a role.
Around the same time that a skeptical online community in China was poring over Yu's rescue, another story about overcoming incredible odds began trending on Chinese social media.
He also received equally sad responses.
A lottery player from the central Chinese city of Nanchang won the equivalent of nearly $31 million from the state Welfare Lottery in early December.
The winner had reportedly spent a sum of $14,000 on nearly 50,000 sets of identical lottery numbers and each of them earned him approximately $625.
Additionally, their total winnings were tax-free due to the relatively small prize money on each individual bet.
The circumstances immediately aroused suspicion.
“He probably got help from someone inside,” speculated a user on the Chinese social media platform Weibo.
Both China's healthcare sector and the state lottery have been plagued by stories of embezzlement and corruption.
“There is a lot of money and bribery in many sectors of China, so of course we are suspicious,” Li, of Suzhou, said of the incredulous effort to rescue Yu in Tibet and the unprecedented lottery in Nanchang.
The outpouring of public skepticism also suggests a misalignment between the life successes and experiences of ordinary Chinese people, said Jodie Peng, a high school teacher in Shenzhen.
“Most people have not won much in the lottery or experienced the help of an entire community during a medical emergency,” he told Al Jazeera.
Peng has also tested his own faith in China's healthcare system in recent years.
His grandfather died last year from COVID-19 in a crowded public hospital before overworked medical staff had a chance to properly care for him. Peng was also a victim of medical fraud in connection with the post-surgical treatment she received a few years ago.
“Of course, it was nice to hear about the lottery winner in Nanchang and the successful rescue of the Shanghai woman in Tibet. But those things don't happen in the Chinese world I live in,” she said.
The “positive energy” stories approved by the Chinese party
According to Associate Professor Yao-Yuan Yeh, who teaches Chinese studies at the University of St Thomas in the United States, stories circulating in Chinese media and online often reflect the narratives desired by the ruling Chinese Communist Party (CCP). ) more than the experiences lived by the public.
“The Chinese Internet is full of stories backed by the Chinese state,” Yeh told Al Jazeera.
China's leaders have repeatedly called on the media to spread stories with “positive energy” to uplift and inspire people.
Because the Internet is heavily monitored and regulated in China, censors can quickly remove stories and comments that do not support government mandates, without notice or explanation.
So when public data showed Chinese youth unemployment was hitting a record 21.3 percent in June, China's censors shut down critical discussions about the numbers online and removed negative comments about the state of the Chinese economy. .
The following month, the publication of data on youth unemployment in China was suspended.
The fight against “negativity” has also resulted in authorities targeting individuals.
When a Wuhan doctor, Li Wenliang, began warning colleagues in early December 2019 about the emergence of a virulent respiratory disease that would later be known as COVID-19, he was arrested by police for “spreading rumors.”
Li would succumb to the virus a few months later.
The lengths to which some are willing to go to quell bad news in China sparked online ridicule last year when a student at a university in Nanchang discovered a rat head in rice food in his cafeteria, something staff at the university said. canteen, the school and a local food supervision office what was said to be duck meat.
The catering company then threatened legal action against anyone who “spread rumours” about its food, while school staff told students not to talk about the rodent's head in the rice.
“When those in power even try to cover up a rat's head, it's hard to trust anything they hear or see in the media,” said Li, of Suzhou.
Peng from Shenzhen agreed.
“There are so many problems in China right now with the economy, with corruption and with many other things,” he said.
“You can't hide everything behind some positive stories,” he added.
“We should be able to openly discuss China's problems, otherwise the lack of trust will simply spread.”
