「梅菜扣肉」與「香港月餅」：大小楊哥的帶貨翻車事件簿

在直播帶貨的江湖裡，大小楊哥兄弟的「翻車史」堪稱一部網紅經濟的警示錄。其中「梅菜扣肉事件」與「香港月餅風波」尤為典型，這兩場危機不僅暴露頭部主播在供應鏈管理上的致命短板，更折射出直播電商野蠻生長時代的系統性風險。

「梅菜扣肉」：預製菜的信任崩塌
2023年初，大小楊哥在直播間大力推銷一款「正宗安徽梅菜扣肉」，宣稱是「老師傅手工製作」、「老字號品質」。然而消費者收到貨後發現，這款標榜「傳統工藝」的產品實為工廠預製菜，不僅梅乾菜發霉變質，肉質更是充斥著濃重的防腐劑味道。更致命的是，有網友挖出該產品生產許可證對應的其實是一家成立僅兩年的代工廠，與直播間宣稱的「三十年老字號」毫無關聯。

事件爆發後，兄弟倆先是強硬回應「有人惡意抹黑」，後被安徽當地市場監管局查實產品菌落總數嚴重超標，採用會致癌的豬槽頭肉。這場風波本質上是網紅帶貨模式「重營銷輕品控」的惡果——當主播們忙於在鏡頭前表演「試吃」、「砍價」時，卻無人真正走進工廠核查那一碗碗「祖傳味道」的來源。

「香港月餅」：跨境電商的監管盲區
同年中秋前夕，兄弟倆瞄準節日經濟，在直播間推出「香港美心月餅平替版」，打出「同廠同源，價格僅三分之一」的誘人標語。銷售數據顯示，這款美誠月餅創下單場800萬元的驚人銷量。但消費者很快發現異樣：部分月餅包裝上的香港地址根本不存在，所謂「同廠」的生產資質文件也被證偽。

更戲劇性的是，香港食物安全中心介入調查後確認，這批月餅從未經合法渠道進口，屬於典型的「水貨」。由於涉及跨境商品監管灰色地帶，受害消費者面臨投訴無門的困境。這次事件徹底暴露網紅帶貨在跨境商品上的認知盲區——當主播們用「港版」、「原裝進口」等話術營造高端形象時，往往連基本的報關單據都無法提供。最終繳交人民幣6894.95萬元罰款，並完成2777.85萬元賠償。

危機公關的連環失誤
面對兩次重大爭議，大小楊哥團隊的應對堪稱災難級範本。在梅菜扣肉事件中，他們先是放出「供應商跑路」的說法，後被網友發現該供應商其實是兄弟倆參股企業；在香港月餅風波裡，直播間客服竟建議消費者「撕掉包裝防偽碼投訴」，這種掩耳盜鈴的做法直接引發第二輪輿論海嘯。

深層次看，這兩起事件共同揭示直播行業的「三無困境」：無實地驗廠（多數選品僅看樣品）、無專業品控（團隊多為銷售出身）、無危機預案（出事就甩鍋供應商）。當監管部門開始要求「帶貨主播須對商品質量承擔首責」時，曾經靠「家人們」情懷築起的高樓，終究要在消費覺醒時代經歷殘酷的壓力測試。

如今在抖音搜索「小楊哥 翻車」，這兩起事件仍是網友津津樂道的反面教材。它們像兩道深刻的疤痕，提醒著每一個直播間：當表演式營銷的泡沫被戳破時，真正能留住「家人們」的，永遠是那碗不會發霉的梅菜扣肉，和那盒敢曬出通關單號的月餅。

"Braised Pork Belly with Preserved Vegetables" and "Hong Kong Mooncakes": The Downfall of Da Xiao Yang Ge's Livestream Empire

In the cutthroat world of livestream e-commerce, the rise and fall of the influencer duo known as Da Xiao Yang Ge has become a cautionary tale of the influencer economy. Among their many controversies, the "Braised Pork Belly Incident" and the "Hong Kong Mooncake Scandal" stand out as textbook examples of supply chain mismanagement and the systemic risks of an unchecked livestream sales boom in China.

Braised Pork Belly: The Collapse of Trust in Pre-made Meals

In early 2023, the brothers heavily promoted a product in their livestream called "Authentic Anhui Braised Pork Belly with Preserved Vegetables," claiming it was handcrafted by veteran chefs and represented a time-honored brand. However, consumers were outraged when they received the product only to find it was a low-quality, factory-made premade dish. The preserved vegetables were moldy, and the pork reeked of preservatives. To make matters worse, internet sleuths uncovered that the production license pointed not to a historic company, but to a private label manufacturer founded just two years prior—completely unrelated to the "30-year-old heritage brand" promoted in the stream.

Initially, the duo responded with defiance, claiming they were being "maliciously slandered." But a subsequent investigation by the local market supervision bureau in Anhui confirmed the product’s bacterial count severely exceeded legal limits and that carcinogenic pork parts were used. This controversy exposed the fundamental flaw in the influencer sales model: a fixation on marketing over quality control. While influencers enthusiastically perform “taste tests” and “price negotiations” on camera, few ever step foot into the factories behind these so-called "family recipes."

Hong Kong Mooncakes: A Regulatory Black Hole in Cross-Border E-commerce

Later that year, just before the Mid-Autumn Festival, the brothers pivoted to seasonal sales, launching what they called a budget-friendly version of the popular Hong Kong Maxim's mooncakes. Their pitch? “Same factory, same quality, one-third the price.” The campaign was a hit, with sales reaching a staggering 8 million RMB in a single livestream. But cracks soon appeared. Consumers discovered that the Hong Kong address printed on the packaging didn’t exist, and the "same factory" manufacturing claims were exposed as fraudulent.

Things escalated when the Hong Kong Centre for Food Safety intervened and confirmed that the mooncakes were never legally imported—classic gray-market "parallel imports." Because the goods fell into a cross-border regulatory loophole, affected buyers found themselves with no legal recourse. The scandal highlighted a key blind spot in livestream e-commerce: influencers often throw around terms like “HK version” or “direct import” to build brand image, but can’t even produce basic customs documents. Ultimately, the duo was fined 68.95 million RMB and paid 27.77 million RMB in consumer compensation.

PR Disasters and a Cascade of Missteps

The brothers' crisis response only made things worse. In the braised pork belly case, they initially blamed a "runaway supplier," but were later exposed when netizens discovered the supplier was actually a company in which they held shares. In the mooncake debacle, their customer service team bizarrely suggested buyers “remove the anti-counterfeit label before complaining,” a move that immediately triggered a second wave of backlash.

On a deeper level, both incidents revealed the "three no’s" crisis plaguing livestream commerce: no in-person factory inspections (most products are vetted via samples only), no professional quality control (teams are typically sales-focused), and no crisis contingency plans (with suppliers taking the blame whenever issues arise). As regulatory authorities began enforcing rules that hold influencers directly accountable for product quality, the once-mighty livestream empires built on sentimental slogans like “for the family” are now undergoing brutal reality checks in an age of consumer awakening.

Today, a search for “Xiao Yang Ge scandal” on Douyin yields a trove of content dissecting these two incidents, which remain iconic cautionary tales. They are scars on the face of China's livestream economy, stark reminders that behind every flashy performance lies a simple truth: what truly earns consumer loyalty isn’t a dramatic sales pitch, but a bowl of braised pork that doesn’t mold—and a box of mooncakes that comes with a legitimate customs tracking number.