"Brother Yi, I was wrong to blame you. I'm sorry."
"Brother Yi, I shouldn't have listened to those snakes. Let me slap myself first."
Now that the official media had spoken up for Wang Yi, it wouldn't have been right for Wang Yi himself to stay silent. So he posted something on his Weibo account.
"Although I didn't represent China at the Olympics, all thirteen track and field records will forever belong to China."
As soon as he said this, Wang Yi's fans were thrilled.
"Brother Yi finally spoke up. I may not be in the game, but the game is still full of my legends."
"These thirteen records will forever belong to China. That's some swagger! Only Brother Yi would dare say that."
"More than two years without a word, and when he finally speaks, he's still as cocky as ever. I love it!"
At the same time, the spectators who hadn't known the truth also turned their fire on the haters.
"From now on, whenever those thirteen events are mentioned, people will think of China first. Haters, forget all thirteen—if you can name even one event that makes foreigners think of China, I'll give you credit."
"You can doubt anyone—even suspect your wife of cheating on you—but you must never doubt Brother Yi's loyalty to China."
"I'm so sick of these people. Foreigners say Bruce Lee was amazing, and we Chinese say he was no good. Liu Xiang set so many records, and Chinese people still hounded him online. Now people in the United States are hoping Brother Yi will come back and save the NBA, yet Chinese people are still insulting him. They're all walking bags of cash."
This time, not a single hater dared to say another word.
Give me a break. The official media were