12th July 2025 – (Hong Kong) When Nanjing police arrested 38-year-old Jiao Siyuan—the cross-dressing “Hongjie” whose amateurish female impersonation (complete with synthetic wigs and ill-fitting floral dresses) scarcely concealed his masculine features—they uncovered more than a cache of illegally recorded sex tapes. They exposed a subterranean economy of desperation where over 1,600 men, predominantly heterosexual, willingly ignored glaring physical discrepancies for fleeting intimacy. The sheer scale of participation—averaging 1.5 encounters daily across three years—defies conventional logic. Why would educated professionals, fitness trainers, and even a Shanghai kindergarten teacher risk social annihilation for liaisons with a mediocre-looking impersonator charging nothing more than groceries? The answer lies in a toxic confluence of sexual starvation, digital dissociation, and China’s epidemic of emotional isolation that reduced human connection to transactional relief.
Hongjie’s operation thrived on dating apps like Momo and Tantan, where algorithmic matchmaking prioritises accessibility over authenticity. Participants entered a psychological bubble where screen-based interactions normalised suspension of disbelief. “In chat, ‘she’ used feminine emojis and voice notes—the fantasy felt real until you arrived,” confessed one university student identified in the videos. This digital curtain allowed men to compartmentalise: online, Hongjie was a “60-year-old lonely auntie”; offline, a poorly disguised male offering no-strings-attached encounters. Crucially, the absence of financial payment created a perverse sense of safety—men interpreted “bring milk/fruit” requests as proof this wasn’t commercial sex work, ignoring that transactional intimacy needn’t involve cash.
China’s 40 million “bare branches”—men facing permanent bachelorhood due to gender imbalance and marital economics—underpin Hongjie’s clientele. Rural-to-urban migrants and overworked professionals endure what sociologist Li Yinhe terms “intimacy famine”: 78% of factory workers in Jiangsu province report no physical contact beyond handshakes for over a year. Hongjie weaponised this deprivation. His “free sex” offer bypassed China’s ruthless dating market, where bride prices exceed ¥200,000 ($27,500) and apartments are prerequisites for marriage. For these men, Hongjie represented zero-commitment access to what society denied—even if the reality involved a wig-clad labourer. When starvation persists, acceptability thresholds collapse. A mouldy crust seems better than no bread.
Perhaps most revealing were encounters where men recognised Hongjie’s maleness yet proceeded—epitomised by the viral “bearded man” video. Upon discovering Hongjie’s biological sex, he sighed “Lai dou lai le” (“Since I’m already here”) before engaging. This phrase, central to Chinese social pragmatism, reflects a cost-benefit analysis: having invested time/money (fruit costs), travelled discreetly, and aroused expectations, abandoning the encounter felt wasteful. Behavioural economist Zhang Wei attributes this to “sunk cost fallacy meets testosterone surge”: once arousal begins, physiological momentum overrides rationality. Combined with Hongjie’s “service mindset”—offering submissive behaviour rare in Chinese gender dynamics—many chose momentary release over dignity.
The case’s most ironic participant—Shanghai’s Soong Ching Ling Kindergarten teacher “Mike”—illustrates the dual lives enabled by urban anonymity. By day, an educator for elite children (¥280,000/year tuition); by night, a Hongjie collaborator. His exposure (via distinctive tattoos and red sneakers matching videos) underscores how China’s performative society fuels compartmentalisation. For men like Mike, Hongjie’s apartment represented a judgement-free zone unlike their high-pressure workplaces. As Nanjing University psychologist Dr. Chen Lu observes: “The same society demanding flawless masculinity in public breeds secret spaces where that performance crumbles.”
While police charged Hongjie for distributing obscene material, his “clients” face harsher penalties: viral infamy, employment termination (like Mike), and permanent “social death.” Yet systemic drivers remain unaddressed. Sex education remains taboo—only 12% of Chinese schools offer scientific relationship curricula—while censors purge dating apps of “vulgar” content rather than enabling healthy intimacy. The result is “more Hongjies exploiting the same despair.” The 1,600 men weren’t fools; they were casualties of a system that commodifies connection while starving its citizens of touch.
https://www.dimsumdaily.hk/sexual-d...0-men-to-a-mediocre-cross-dresser-in-nanjing/