Wang Ziru said in public, “Let’s stop arguing. We’ve made peace.” Luo Yonghao didn’t respond. It had been twelve years since that more-than-three-hour livestream on Youku.
It happened at the tech forum of the Weibo V Influence Summit on October 17. The host asked an old question: If you had another chance, would you still argue with Luo Yonghao? He answered pretty quickly: “Next time, maybe I’ll be at a crossroads. I’ll use Weibo to reach out and say: let’s stop arguing and make peace.” He added, “If you want to become a big influencer by arguing, winning or losing isn’t important. I’m an example, right?”
The trending topic headline read, “Twelve-year feud ends in reconciliation.” I looked at it twice. The signature line was blank. No one signed.
What many people remember is the phone. Would the screen survive a drop? Where were the buttons? Was the cooling good enough? But the real disagreement was never about the product. What Luo Yonghao asked on the spot was something else: ZEALER had taken investment from phone manufacturers, so how could it still call itself an independent third party? How? That line, “If you’re being kept, don’t talk about having an independent mind,” has lasted so long because it shifted the question from “Is the product any good?” to “Who has the right to say whether it’s any good?”
Whether a product is good can be answered by taking it apart and testing it. But who has the right to test it? That’s harder to pin down. What exactly did they argue about for those three hours? To this day, there’s no resolution. Wang Ziru later apologized for technical errors, but on the question of independence, both sides just kept making their own case. Neither persuaded the other, and no third party came forward with a ruling. That knot has never been untied.
In real life, reconciliation can be declared unilaterally. The other person doesn’t have to sign or agree. The moment you say it, the headline changes. No one has won. That’s not how things work on-chain. You broadcast a transfer, but if no one includes it in a block, it stays pending and your balance doesn’t change by a cent. You authorize a spending limit, but if the other party never uses it, the authorization just sits there. No one has spent anything, and no one has gotten anything back. The ledger doesn’t recognize that kind of thing.
People in crypto argue every day about “who’s independent.” Audit reports, data sources, oracles—each one raises the same question: whose money are they taking? You can ask over and over. The answer isn’t in the white paper; it’s in the addresses. If a data source says it’s neutral, pull up its transfer history from the past two years, transaction by transaction. See who it’s been dealing with, when funds came in and went out, and whether it changed addresses along the way. It’s all there in plain sight. That’s a lot more convincing than any claim that “we remain neutral.” But that’s as far as you can go. There’s no way around it: addresses can reveal the money, but not the relationships behind it.
What does Luo Yonghao think? There’s no clear answer. Some reports say he once called people hoping for a reconciliation “doubly unqualified, intellectually and morally,” and also said he’d blocked Wang Ziru. I really can’t find the original source for when those two things were said. He hasn’t responded this time. Did he not see it, or does he just not want to engage? No one can say for sure. And there are plenty of discrepancies within the same batch of reports.
So reconciliation is a private matter for the two of them, but a piece of content for everyone watching. Whoever speaks first gets to set the terms of this version of the story. Luo Yonghao hasn’t responded, so for now it remains one-sided. Maybe one day, when he really does sit down on that podcast, the two ledgers will finally balance.
I’ve thought this over, and the real information isn’t in the word “reconciliation.” It’s in why Wang Ziru chose to say it now. He used to work at Gree, and now he’s back making content, where attention matters. Luo Yonghao’s podcast needs guests. Each has their own ledger. Put them at the same table, and neither loses out. That old grudge isn’t the point anymore. Some say it’s a play for traffic—borrowing Lao Luo’s buzz to draw attention to himself. It sounds plausible. There’s just no evidence.
If you’ve ever said “I’ve sold everything” in a group chat, you probably understand the difference. There’s a verifiable transaction between selling and saying you’ve sold. That’s all there is to it.
$BTC $LINK $ETH
#比特币 #以太坊 #Chainlink
It happened at the tech forum of the Weibo V Influence Summit on October 17. The host asked an old question: If you had another chance, would you still argue with Luo Yonghao? He answered pretty quickly: “Next time, maybe I’ll be at a crossroads. I’ll use Weibo to reach out and say: let’s stop arguing and make peace.” He added, “If you want to become a big influencer by arguing, winning or losing isn’t important. I’m an example, right?”
The trending topic headline read, “Twelve-year feud ends in reconciliation.” I looked at it twice. The signature line was blank. No one signed.
What many people remember is the phone. Would the screen survive a drop? Where were the buttons? Was the cooling good enough? But the real disagreement was never about the product. What Luo Yonghao asked on the spot was something else: ZEALER had taken investment from phone manufacturers, so how could it still call itself an independent third party? How? That line, “If you’re being kept, don’t talk about having an independent mind,” has lasted so long because it shifted the question from “Is the product any good?” to “Who has the right to say whether it’s any good?”
Whether a product is good can be answered by taking it apart and testing it. But who has the right to test it? That’s harder to pin down. What exactly did they argue about for those three hours? To this day, there’s no resolution. Wang Ziru later apologized for technical errors, but on the question of independence, both sides just kept making their own case. Neither persuaded the other, and no third party came forward with a ruling. That knot has never been untied.
In real life, reconciliation can be declared unilaterally. The other person doesn’t have to sign or agree. The moment you say it, the headline changes. No one has won. That’s not how things work on-chain. You broadcast a transfer, but if no one includes it in a block, it stays pending and your balance doesn’t change by a cent. You authorize a spending limit, but if the other party never uses it, the authorization just sits there. No one has spent anything, and no one has gotten anything back. The ledger doesn’t recognize that kind of thing.
People in crypto argue every day about “who’s independent.” Audit reports, data sources, oracles—each one raises the same question: whose money are they taking? You can ask over and over. The answer isn’t in the white paper; it’s in the addresses. If a data source says it’s neutral, pull up its transfer history from the past two years, transaction by transaction. See who it’s been dealing with, when funds came in and went out, and whether it changed addresses along the way. It’s all there in plain sight. That’s a lot more convincing than any claim that “we remain neutral.” But that’s as far as you can go. There’s no way around it: addresses can reveal the money, but not the relationships behind it.
What does Luo Yonghao think? There’s no clear answer. Some reports say he once called people hoping for a reconciliation “doubly unqualified, intellectually and morally,” and also said he’d blocked Wang Ziru. I really can’t find the original source for when those two things were said. He hasn’t responded this time. Did he not see it, or does he just not want to engage? No one can say for sure. And there are plenty of discrepancies within the same batch of reports.
So reconciliation is a private matter for the two of them, but a piece of content for everyone watching. Whoever speaks first gets to set the terms of this version of the story. Luo Yonghao hasn’t responded, so for now it remains one-sided. Maybe one day, when he really does sit down on that podcast, the two ledgers will finally balance.
I’ve thought this over, and the real information isn’t in the word “reconciliation.” It’s in why Wang Ziru chose to say it now. He used to work at Gree, and now he’s back making content, where attention matters. Luo Yonghao’s podcast needs guests. Each has their own ledger. Put them at the same table, and neither loses out. That old grudge isn’t the point anymore. Some say it’s a play for traffic—borrowing Lao Luo’s buzz to draw attention to himself. It sounds plausible. There’s just no evidence.
If you’ve ever said “I’ve sold everything” in a group chat, you probably understand the difference. There’s a verifiable transaction between selling and saying you’ve sold. That’s all there is to it.
$BTC $LINK $ETH
#比特币 #以太坊 #Chainlink