The Girl With The Blue Hair

This is the Chinese Internet in a nutshell -- you can't trust anyone nowadays.  One or more (and possibly all) of these stories have to be false.  You decide.  And this is a huge story on the Chinese Internet right now -- the Daqi forum has a special top-of-the-home-page and must-read The Girl with the Blue Hair section.


(Blog of the Third Rate Photographer Liu Shan)  SOS: How can I save you, my blue-haired girl?  April 24, 2007.

[in translation]

Why did she choose to have a head of blue-colored hair before her death? Or did she have blue hair from before?  I don't know.

I personally observed her put down her guitar and step on the railroad track to face the roaring train with tears coming down her face.

Why did such a beautiful girl choose to end her life this way?

I cannot believe that this fairy-tale scene was real.

What should I do?

At 4pm on April 22, 2007, I took the subway and went to the suburbs of Beijing with my camera.  This was a sunny afternoon and just perfect for someone who has just learned photography.

I got off at the subway station known as "Baliqiao."  Then I walked went through some buildings and found a gap in the railway fence.  I went through the gap and walked down along the railroad track while I took photographs.  It was plain and serene.  A few cargo trains sped by me occasionally.  It made me feel somewhat lonely.

After almost one kilometer away and as the sound of the train faded, I suddenly heard the faint notes from a guitar.  I looked in that direction and I saw a girl with blue hair singing while strumming the guitar.  The guitar was loud but the voice was weaker.  I raised my camera and took the first photograph.

I approached her, but I did not dare get too close.  I had a sense of foreboding.

Her head was lowered and the blue hair covered her face.  I pulled the camera up and took the second photograph.

...

At this moment, a passenger train came roaring down with a full load of passengers coming to this great city.  They had no idea that there was a confused blue-haired girl sitting on the railroad track in front of them.  My instinct told me that his blue-haired girl wanted to die.  I could not just walk away.  I looked and it was as I expected.  She stood in front of the track with tears streaming down her face and arms held out wide.  The train's warning siren was deafening and the warning light was flashing, but they did not move her.  She just stood here with eyes closed, as if she was prepared to enjoy her death.

I had no time to take another photograph.  I raced towards her and pulled her off the track.  I instinctively wrapped my arms around her.  The train roared past.  She lied on my shoulder while she cried out loud.

I was not proud of my courage, and I was not asking for any glory.  I was thinking that at this moment, anyone would have made the same decision.  I did not feel great.  I was only sad that a life was almost lost.

Therefore, I cried as well.

I let go of her shoulders and asked, "Why did you do that?"

She stood here and said nothing.

"Why must you die?" I continued to ask.

She used her sleeves to wipe away her tears and did not reply.

I took out a business car and stick in her pants: "I hope that  you will value your life!  If you need help, you can email or call me."  After saying that, I left.

As I was leaving her, another train rushed by.  She turned to look.  With the instinct of a photography lover, I raised my camera and took two more photographs of her.  This may be the last two photographs of her, or they may be my most precious photographs.  Unfortunately, I did not catch her face.

I am just an ordinary photography lover.  I came across this matter by accident.  I am not usually a nosy person, but I had unintentionally assumed the responsibility of saving her life.  I know that I cannot save her as a person.  I have no ideas right now.  I regret that I did not take her to a coffee shop and talk to her.  I want to contact her family and friends but I know that it would probably make no difference.  I want to do everything that I can in order to get her to give up the idea of dying for good.  But from the scary look in her eyes, I can see that she longs for death.

I feel that I need to disclose this matter to the public.  I am posting these photographs so that everybody can help!  She may choose death once again!  What can be more valuable than life?  What actually happened to her?

What should I do?  What should we do?  Will all those who know her and those who don't know her work to save her?


(Zhanghuajiu's Blog 张怀旧的BLOG)  The Sex Last Will of a Blue-Haired Girl.  May 9, 2007.

[in translation]

Ever since I published a letter from a female stranger last time, I have received twice as many letters since, mostly about sentimental matters.  Today I select a more peculiar one for my readers.

**********

Dear Zhang Huajiu, I heard that you are known as the master of sentiments on the Internet.  I am the blue-haired girl that is being discussed recently.  So let me tell you about my shameful story of sex.

In 2002, I graduated from the music academy and I formed the Forest band with my boyfriend Little Y and others.  There were five members in the band.  Four of them played the drums, bass, keyboards, etc and I am the only singer as well as the only female.  Little Y is the drummer as well as the band leader.  He was my first and only boyfriend and I took meticulous care of him.  All of us are from outside Beijing and our families are not wealthy.  Having just graduated from university, we did not have a lot of money.  We used a lot of money from our parents to purchase the musical instruments.  So the five of us lived in one apartment with three bedrooms and one living room.  Little Y and I stayed in one room, two of the others stayed in the other rooms while another one slept in the living room.

We slept in the morning and we rehearsed in the afternoon.  At night, we performed in bars and come home late.  At first, we did okay and we could basically make several hundred yuan per night.  We could afford to pay rent and food and we even had more than that sometimes.  But then other problems began to emerge.  For example, we went back home to sleep every night after the performances.  Because the rooms had thin walls, the passionate love-making between Little Y and I were disturbing the others' rest.  I did not care personally, but I can tell that Little Y was unhappy.  He was worried about this.  But I could not help emitting noise every time that we made love.  So there was a strange mood among the five of us and I felt that immensely.

I suggested once to Little Y that the two of us should move out on our own and he cursed me out.  He said that our band was united as one.  We had only just begun and we cannot begin capitalist liberalization for some petty thoughts.  So I had to give up the idea.  I loved him and therefore I listened to him.

Then the unexpected thing finally happened.  One early morning after a performance, we went back to our place, bathed and went to bed.  That night, I screamed especially loud and Little Y was very unhappy.  He gave up midway.  He looked at me without saying a word and I felt icy cold.  I knew that I had interfered with the others' sleep, but I could not help it.  Perhaps I was too engaged, but there was nothing that I can do.  So Little Y took out a bottle of beer and began drinking.  When he finished the beer, he said neither seriously nor jokingly: "Little S, did you deliberately cry out that loud?  If so, then you can go and sleep with them one at a time.  I don't mind.  Really."

I thought that he was joking.  But then I saw his serious look.  He repeated the same thing several times.  I did not do as he said.  It was too embarrassing.  What did he think I was?  So we did not speak anymore that night and we went to sleep with our backs facing each other.

Afterwards, the performances over the next few nights were unsatisfactory.  Either I was out of tune or the band was out of sync.  We were criticized sharply by the bar owner, who withheld half our performance fee.  This was a serious problem and everybody in the band was depressed.  I knew that I had responsibility.  If we kept this up, we would lose our gig and the band would be disbanded.

It was not easy to form a band.  We had made some progress after half a year.  Little Y said that if we made enough money and built a reputation, we could go to Beijing next year.  I personally would like to see that happen.  To put it more directly,, I wanted to be famous and I didn't want to give up.

So when Little Y brought up the subject of sleeping with the others, I agreed.  I loved him and so I listened to him.  After another drinking session, I went into the room of the keyboard player next door.  So I had sexual intercourse with another member of the band in the room next to that of the band leader.  This was the second man in my life.

On the next night and the night after that, I slept with the other two band members.  They became the third and fourth man in my life.  This occurred right outside the door of the room of Little Y, but he showed as much reaction as a corpse.

So I began to sleep with a different man every night.  I became their common girlfriend.  At first, I found it hard to accept.  But I got used to it after one week.  They were very nice to me and they did not treat me with contempt.  Instead of being my sex partners, they were more like my brothers and teammates.

On the stage, I was the brilliant red flower and they were the green leaves.  Off the stage, I was their pet favorite.  Our overall performance soared to another level and many bar owners bid high for us to perform.  We became the number one band in the local entertainment scene.  As the lead singer, I became the hottest local singer.

Therefore, I began to realize that Little Y's decision was correct.  I thought that the price that I paid was reasonable.  That summer, on the first anniversary of the formation of our band (which was also my birthday), we drank wine to celebrate and then the five of us took off our clothes and achieved an hitherto unexperienced climax right there on the floor.

On that night, I was crying.  Nobody could understand my sorrow.

Then I got pregnant.  I did not know who the father was and I did not even know who took me to get an abortion.  I didn't care about that.  I only cared that our band was near success.

I did not love Little Y any less.  I didn't know if love still existed between us.  I preferred to think that it existed.  I did not want to lose him, not matter how brilliant or whorish I was.

But I sensed that Little Y did not treat me the same way as before.  Apart from my body, he cared about nothing else.  For sure, I promised to share my body and I should not have bourgeois ideas.  But emotionally, I belonged to him.  I didn't know if he could still treat me and his own sentiments properly.

Can a person's body be really separated from the emotional sentiments?  I don't know.

Then our band got a new member.  She was a solid singer from Beijing.  During the performances, we took turns to sing.  She was getting more applause than me.  When she sang, the audience went wild with screams and claps.  When I sang, the audience lose their concentration and played drinking games instead.  At first, I ignored the indifference of the audience.  But then I obviously sensed that my backup musicians were unenthusiastic and careless when I sang.  I was frequently embarrassed.  The worst time was when the audience threw orange peels at me from downstage.  I went off stage in shame to cry in the restroom.  I thought that Little Y would come in to comfort me, but he did not.  Instead, he was on stage playing music for someone else.

After the performance, the female singer left and the five of us went back to our apartment.  I picked a room at random and went in.

Night after night the performances continued.  I began to discover that it was unimportant whether I could sing or not.  The important thing was that I slept with them.  I was like the duty officer of the day and I had to be on duty every night.  Apart from making love, I was an outsider in this band, especially when I discovered that the female Beijing singer had become the new girlfriend of Little Y.

Little Y moved out of our place in order to stay with the female Beijing singer.  I became a solitary Peron.

If I made the "grand" decision before to offer my body for the entire band in order to maintain the sentimental relationship with Little Y, then I thought that I should withdraw given that Little Y has left me.  Little Y did not belong to me anymore and the band did not belong to me anymore.  For the first time, I experienced the meaning of shame.

In the end, I left the band.  Nobody asked me to stay.  I was like a discarded condom.  I was dirty and digesting.  Nobody wanted to be near me.

I liked the color blue.  Nobody loved me, but I can still love myself.  I dyed my hair blue.  I stayed home during the day like an idiot.  At night, I went out to sing like a ghost.  I went to Beijing.  I went through a countless number of bars and night clubs.  On stage, I was a refined singer.  Off stage, I was a sluttish devil who went from one man to another.

At the bars, I have frequently come across a relatively famous band on tour.  I recognized the female singer.  I also recognized the keyboard player, because he was my first lover Little Y.  But they don't recognize me anymore since I had turned into a blue-hair demon.  They could not even recognize my singing because their lights shine brighter than mine.  They are a musical band, whereas I was just a street singer.

I had a different man every night.  I did that deliberately.  I treated every man as if he was Little Y.  I deeply loved every different man who took me home.  It was unimportant whether they loved me, because the important thing was that I loved them and they would not share me with others.  At least, they provided me with a safe space to sleep for a while.  No matter how loud I screamed, they didn't mind and they only showed me their satisfied smiles.  This was what Little Y could not give me and it was enough for me.

I have paid a price for his.  Over the past few years, I have had more than 20 abortions.  I deliberately planned that just so I can imagine that Little Y might say some words of comfort in front of the hospital bed.  But that was just fantasy.

A while ago, I experienced severe pains in my lower body.  I went to the hospital and the doctor said that I had a serious infection in the uterus.  I had to have my uterus removed by surgery because my life was at stake.

After the surgery, I was listless and uncomfortable over my entire body.  My voice has also gone husky and I can no longer get on stage and sing.  Without music, my life is over and done with.

My mother called me to ask when I planned to get married because she longed to have a grandchild.  Tears began to flow down my face.  I had nothing to say.

I can only choose death.  I sat and faced the railroad track.  The spring was warm and the flowers were blooming.  I strummed my guitar and I sang my song huskily ...

But someone had to stop me at that instant.  I thought that this photographer could give me a renewed hope for life.  But my fantasy was once again dashed.  On an evening a few days ago, he took advantage of my depression and got me drunk.  Then he took me into his jeep and violated my body.

Hey, it does not matter.  There are no good people left in the world.  What does a person near her death care?  Perhaps you only long for my death.

Therefore, I want to set up my will.  I hope that you can remember my name -- the singer Little S -- after I am gone.  Maybe you have even heard her sing before.


(Blog of the Third Rate Photographer Liu Shan)  Zhang Huajiu and others, do you want the blue-haired girl to die?  May 10, 2007.

... a kind-hearted netizen sent me this above SMS (translation: Why was there a letter from her on the Internet which said at the end that the person who saved her violated her sexually?  Why?).  Then I realized that I was smeared by the person known as Zhang Huajiu.  I got on the Internet and I read the post <The Sex Last Will of a Blue-Haired Girl> and I also saw the questions and curses from many netizens.  From the so-called last will: "I thought that this photographer could give me a renewed hope for life.  But my fantasy was once again dashed.  On an evening a few days ago, he took advantage of my depression and got me drunk.  Then he took me into his jeep and violated my body."

At this point, I do not even know whether to laugh or cry.  I don't even have the money to buy a motorcycle.  I have invested all my savings on photography equipment.  So how can I afford to have a "jeep"?  ...


(Sun Yiwen 孙乙雯 at Sohu.com)  Liu Shan, I'm the blue-haired girl that you have been looking for.  May 13, 2007.

[in translation]

Liu Shan, I'm the blue-haired girl that you have been looking for.

You people say that my family is Blue (as in blue skies).  You say that my given name is Hair (as in hair on the head).  You all call me the blue-haired girl.  But I can only tell you with tears in my eyes that you are all wrong.  Four years ago, following the ripping sound of the tissue made by the bastard whose name that I did not even know, I went from a girl to a woman.

As for those netizens who want to see me dead, I beg you not to treat me like a slut -- a slut who would go to bed with any man.  Over the years, I have come to know men and I hate them.

When I was very young, my parents got divorced.  No, to be more precise, my dad dumped my mother and then I lived with my mother.  When I got into junior high school, my mother married another man who was not nice to her at all!  From then on, I hated all men.

I tried hard to study in order to escape from that stifling family.  Up to now, I have not called that man my "stepfather."  I graduated from high school.  I thought that my results will get me into a decent school, but I only got accepted by a shitty school.  I didn't care what school it was, because I only wanted to get away from that home.  Sometimes, I thank the heavens for giving me an opportunity to leave with a proper reason.

I thought that summer vacation would be almost perfect, even though I was not satisfied with that school.  But I never imagined that summer vacation would turn out to be long and brutal.

Three days after I received my acceptance letter, I went with my friend Sun Wenwen to an Internet cafe.  Prior to that, I will confess that I have never been to that type of place.  But Wenwen went there very often and can be said to be a veteran.  On that day, she chatted with a man via QQ for a long time and she told me that this was a long-time acquaintence of hers.  He was nice to her and they had a good chat.  He encouraged her to study and so on.  After more than two hours, the man got offline.  After a while, a handsome man showed up and introduced himself as the man on QQ.  Wenwen jumped up in excitement when she saw this handsome guy.  He invited us to gave some cold beverage.  At first, I objected.  As I said, I hate men.  But Wenwen insisted and I kept her company.

At the beverage place, another man showed up.  This was the first man's good friend.  Then they ordered some drinks and beers and we chatted while we drank.  I did not say much.  We got out of the place at around 10pm!  When we got out, I somehow fell on the man's body.  I felt dizzey and then I lost consciousness.

When I woke up, it was the next morning.  My mouth and throat were dry and my lower body hurt.  I opened my eyes and I had no idea where I was.  My clothes were removed and placed at the top of the bed.  Wenwen was in the same condition.  The two men were nowhere to be found.

I woke Wenwen up and we both ran out of the place.  When I got home, I did not dare to tell the truth to my parents.  I lied to them that I stayed at the home of a fellow student.

Within the next month, I had no pleasure with being accepted to a unviersity.  Wenwen and I waited with knives in our hand to wait for that man to show up again at the Internet cafe, but he never came ...

And then?  And then, I went to the university.  I was pregnant and I had an abortion.  And then I became a famous guitar player at the university.  I became the vice-president of the Student Association.  And then I almost dropped out ...

On that particular afternoon, I was sitting on the railroad track with the guitar.  I was singing the Carpenters' <Yesterday Once More> again and again in order to review the history of my life.  At that moment, the so-called photographer Liu Shan showed up with his stinking camera ...

Liu Shan, I have come out.  I am coming out in order to establish your innocence.  Although you saved my live, you should not expect to receive my gratitude.  When you raised the camera to secretly film me, I knew that you did not have good intentions.  Afterwards, you posted my photographs on the Internet.  Then I knew that you were a bum who wanted to become famous on the shoulders of someone who was about to die.  So this is the innocence that you want to get back!  If I had the time, I would sue you for invasion of my privacy.  But I don't have the time.  I don't care about this.  So this may be how I pay you back!  We are now even.  But I will still curse you.  If I should depart from this world someday, I will still curse you that you shall never become famous.  As for the person known as Zhang Huajiu, everybody knows that his conscience had been eaten by a dog and there is not need to mention him.

I am tired.  I am worn out.  I am sick of it.  My tears are dropping on the keyborad.  Fortunately, nobody knows me.  I will go away lightly.  I will go just as I arrived lightly.  I wave my sleeves and I will not take away any rainbows ...


(Tom.com)  The True Story Behind the Girl With The Blue Hair.  By photographer Liu Shan.  May 18, 2007.

On the afternoon of May 17, I had a meeting scheduled with the girl with blue hair at a coffee house.  This time, she did not decieve me.  We finally met.  This is the story that she told me.

My name is Sun Jiamin (孙嘉敏).  I had a childhood friend named Zhouzhou.  She is several months older than me.  I called her elder sister and she called me younger sister.  We have an indescribable closeness to each other.  We went to class together, we ate together, we go outside together, we sing the same songs, we wore the same clothes and we later attended the same music academy together.  We even swore that we would never fall in love before we graduate.  We swore that if we fall in love with the same guy, we would torture that man to death rather than let him tortue us.  I said, let those people who think that they are princes on white horses wait a thousand years if he has the patience.  Zhouzhou laughed when I said that and did not say anything.  We hugged each other warmly.

Afterwards, many fellow students said that we must be lesbians.  We did not care.  I did not think that our relationship would weaken on account of other persons.

In our third year at the music academy, our promise was broken.  I met the handsome and brilliant Da Lin.  I fell in love with him almost immediately. ... At first, Zhouzhou was frequently with us.  We went out together, we went to outings, we wrote many songs together ...

Then I began to wear different clothing than Zhouzhou.  I did not want to sing the same song that she sang.  I was afraid of losing Da Lin, not Zhouzhou.  She did not seem unhappy with the situation.  She just reminded me not to abandon my studies for the skake of romance.  She did not hold me to my promise, which I had already forgotten already.

... Then one day, something happened back home and I went back for a few days.  I returned and I hurried over to Da Lin's place.  I knocked on the door for a long time before he opened it.  Zhouzhou was inside the apartment.  They acted unnaturally.  I also saw that the bed was a mess.  I was stunned and I raced out of the apartment.

I went back to the dormitory and I look out a bottle of white wine and started drinking.  I drank so much that I passed out.  Zhouzhou came looking for me and called the ambulance.  On the way, I threw up all over her (although I did not remember any of that).  When I came to, I saw her in front of me and pushed her aside and told her to scram.

Afterwards, I got Da Lin and Zhouzhou to sit down at dinner.  In front of Zhouzhou, I kissed Da Lin passionately and I said out aloud, "Da Lin is mine.  Nobody is going to take him away."  I thought that Zhouzhou would be angered.  But she smiled and said, "Yes.  Da Lin belongs to my younger sister and nobody will take him away from her.  My little sister is the happiest person in the world."  Then she toasted the two of us.

In our next academic year, we were all busy getting prepared to graduate.  I was with Da Lin most of the time and I had little time with Zhouzhou.  After graduation, Zhouzhou went to work in a different city.  Before, she left, she called to ask to meet me to say farewell but I did not see her.  Maybe I was afraid of being embarrassed.  That day, I hugged Da Lin and cried because I knew that I wronged Zhouzhou but I did not know how to recover the lost friendship ...

I returned home and I told my parents that I wanted to go to Beijing to become a musician.  They opposed that because music is just a hobby and not an occupation.  They wanted me to marry the son of the rich man next door.  But I loved Da Lin so much, so how could I marry anyone else?

Ultimately, I was forced to leave home and become a nomad in Beijing with Da Lin.  We spent two years in Beijing.  Life was not easy but we had each other for encouragement and support.

One day, Zhouzhou called me.  She told me that she is teaching music at a school.  She found my mobile telephone phone through another classmate and she asked me how I was doing.  Suddenly, I felt very sad but I could never go back to the old days again.

A month later, Da Lin suddenly fell ill.  The hospital said that he had kidney failure and must get a transplant to survive.  This was a total shock to me, because we did not have the financial means.  A healthy kidney is worth several hundreds of thousand yuan on the market.  I told Da Lin that I could give me my kidney, but he refused.  He said that he would rather die.  I went home to plead with my parents.  Not only did they refuse to provide the money, they locked me up at home!  They took away my mobile telephone and made sure that I had no contact with the outside word.  I started a hunger strike.

On the fourth day, my parents told me that there was good news from the hospital!  I found it hard to believe, but my parents let me called the hospital personally.  There was a donor.  I cried for the miracle.  The operation took place as scheduled and Da Lin was showing all the right signs afterwards.

I demanded to see Da Lin and the kidney donor.  My parents were scared of my hunger strike and so my father accompanied to the hospital.  They told me there that the female donor insisted on a condition of anonymity and she had done it for no money.

I was surprised and also curious.  I had to see this wonderful girl because she gave a second life to my lover.  I had to thank her personally.  The hospital that the donor had complications and is about to die.  After repeated pleas from me, I was able to meet her.

I never expected that it would be my best friend Zhouzhou!

The so-called miracle was just a deception.  Why are the gods so cruel?  Perhaps the gods planned everything.  I owe so much to Zhouzhou in this life.  She cared about me and she loved me, but I was only so wary about him.

I started crying and she only smiled and said: "Silly baby sister.  Don't cry.  Da Lin is yours.  I wish happiness to the two of you ..."

Although the hospital tried everything, they could not save her life.  Before I could even say a few words of apology to her, she passed away.

Da Lin improved.  To my surprise, Da Lin proposed to separate from me.  He said that nothing had happened between him and Zhouzhou.  Zhouzhou loved the two of us and she did not want to hurt either one.  She buried her love inside her heart.  She did not even care about her own life.  But now Zhouzhou's blood is flowing inside his body, he cannot face up to our love because he would be wronging Zhouzhou ...

I understand him.  But I cannot lose him.  I have lost him once and I cannot lose him again.  Is this the ending that Zhouzhou traded for with her life?

I begged Da Lin to reconsider and give us some time to think it over.  He agreed.

I hope that my effort could save our love, but things would not be so simple.

Several weeks later, I heard something that I cannot accept.  There is a new woman beside Da Lin ...

... For some days, I was wandering about the railway track.  I did not know what I was thi nking.  I like Hai Zi.  He wrote about facing the ocean and several days that spring, he lied down on the railway track and committed suicide.  What is happiness?  I don't know.  Perhaps death can solve all problems.

I did not imagine that it was so hard to kill oneself.  You saved me just as I was wavering.  At first, I thought that you were a busybody.  I don't blame you anymore.   You are a good person.  I have been very confused lately.  Sorry.  I don't know why I am telling you these things and put you under so much pressure.  After thinking about it for a while, I think that I understand that one must stay alive and treasure oneself.  But I have done my best friend and my most beloved wrong ...

I have written a song about the story of the three of us in <One thousand years of waiting>.  I don't know if a thousand years of watiing can bring me back Da Lin and Zhouzhou.  I love Da Lin and I love Zhouzhou, but everything seems too late by now ...


蓝发女孩首次露面:不要炒作要清白  First Interview With The Blue-haired Girl Sun Jiamin.  yWeekend, June 14, 2007.

Q:  Did you really want to commit suicide?
A: No.  I often go to play the guitar next to the railroad.  The train does not even run on that side of the rail.

Q: Did you know Liu Shan before?
A: I met him the first time that day.  We chatted quite a lot.  He took many photographs of me.  He is a photographer.  I want to make friends like that.  We even ate together after that.

Q: Did Liu Shan tell you that he wants to publish your photographs?
A: No.  I had no idea.

Q: What about the email that you sent Liu Shan?
A: I did not write that.  I do not get on the Internet very often.

Q: When did you first realize that your photographs were on the Internet?
A: More than twenty years ago, my mother read an article by Zhang Huaijiu in a Nanjing newspaper and she recognized me in the photograph.  She was angry and called me.  I called the company.  The company was not aware.  So my parents now want me to give up the contract and go home.

Q: Did you contact Liu Shan?
A: I called him and he was hesitant in speaking.  I returned to Beijing and I confronted him in person.  He felt that he was victimized, because he did not imagine the post would generate such a huge response.

Q: Did Liu Shan take more photographs of you?
A: Based upon commercial considerations, the company wanted to salvage something and they got Liu Shan to take more photographs of me.

Q: Liu Shan also published your triangular love affair: two girls fall in love with one boy, and one of the girls even gave up her kidney for the boy.
A: That was the script of my MV.  The feelings were genuine, but the kidney donation was exaggerated.

Q: What about Zhang Huaijiu's <The Sex Last Will of a Blue-Haired Girl.>?
A: I hope that the company can find Zhang Huaijiu and give me back my good name.  My father and mother felt that I lost face for them ... (sobbing)  Everyday, someone calls me up to ask if I was promoting my song or whether I really got raped.

Q: But your song is suddenly hot.
A: I would rather not want it this way.  The pressure is too tremendous.  I can't take it.  But if I do meet with the media, people will think that I am making a tacit admission.  But if I come out to clarify, people will curse me.

Q: So what are your feelings now?
A: I don't want to talk to strangers!  I regret that I ever chatted wtih Liu Shan and let him take photographs of me.  Actually, I am contemptuous of people like Furong Jiejie.  I want to call for an Clean Internet Day to protest against hooliganism on the Internet.