When the spotlight hit the podium of the Harvard graduation ceremony, Ms. Jiang, dressed in a master's gown, spoke in trembling English about "global justice." She might not have expected that this meticulously prepared performance would not only make her an international joke but also unexpectedly elevate two Chinese internet users to the status of "new idols"—Trump, who is currently at odds with Harvard, and Dong Mingzhu, the 'Iron Lady' of Gree, who has been ridiculed for years.

"Now you know why I had to close the International Development Agency, right?" If Trump saw this trending topic in China, he might proudly make a classic red scarf gesture. This "redneck president," scorned by liberals, has surprisingly received unanimous praise in the Chinese public opinion arena.

American rednecks were furious that the person standing on the podium was an artist who couldn't even make clear subject-verb-object statements yet was talking grandly about "human destiny." Chinese netizens quickly sensed the danger—when Ms. Jiang animatedly described Mongolia's "international development project," they instantly recalled the CIA's external organization, the International Development Agency, which Trump forced to shut down.

Once ridiculed by the entire internet, Dong Mingzhu is now enjoying the treatment of a returning king in the arena of public opinion. From "4+4 Ms. Dong" to Harvard's Ms. Jiang, two epic failures suddenly made netizens realize: that stern-faced Iron Lady had long seen through the emperor's new clothes.

In an era when returning overseas students were still prestigious, Sister Dong dared to declare, "Gree does not want overseas students." When scolded as "country bumpkin" and "closed off from the world," she presented solid evidence: some returnees sold laboratory data to foreign enterprises, and some "international organization interns" conducted surveys in factories. Now that the complex ties between Ms. Jiang's family and overseas environmental NGOs have been exposed, netizens are shocked to find that Sister Dong is not overbearing but rather prescient.

The deepest shock of the Ms. Jiang incident lies in the complete shattering of the emperor's new clothes in Western liberal arts education. When she earns $2,000 an hour in consulting fees from private equity but is deeply pained by the lack of sanitary pads in Africa, she resembles a Hermes sales associate narrating the spirit of craftsmanship in hand-stitched products—where the focus is never on the product itself, but on the identity totem woven with a sense of moral superiority.