In Today’s Society? Imagine Being Brazen Enough To Reject Over 100 Women For Dates
The modern dating landscape, characterized by the convenience of digital applications and the persistence of traditional matchmaking services, has created a paradoxical environment where finding a partner is simultaneously more accessible and more complex than ever before. In China, where cultural pressures to marry often intersect with a significant gender imbalance, the search for a spouse has become a high-stakes endeavor. Recently, a narrative emerging from Hangzhou, the capital of East China’s Zhejiang province, has captured public attention and sparked a broader debate regarding self-perception and realistic expectations in the quest for companionship. A man identified only by his surname, Feng, has reportedly rejected over 100 potential matches over the course of a decade, drawing sharp criticism from his own matchmaker and the public alike.
The account was brought to light by Wang Zhihui, a prominent matchmaker based in Hangzhou, who utilized Feng’s story as a cautionary tale for those navigating the complexities of the marriage market. According to Wang, Feng’s decade-long streak of rejections is not a result of a lack of options, but rather a set of rigid, arguably disproportionate, criteria that he refuses to compromise. In a society where the "marriage squeeze"—a term used by sociologists to describe the difficulty men face in finding wives due to a surplus of males—is a pressing reality, Feng’s selectivity is viewed by many as an anomaly of extreme confidence or a profound lack of self-awareness.
The Specificity of Standards: A Case Study in Selective Dating
Mr. Feng, who stands at 5’6” (approximately 168 cm), has maintained a strict list of requirements for any woman he considers for a long-term relationship. His primary criteria include that the woman must be a local resident of Hangzhou, she must be "tall and pretty," her height must exceed 5’2” (158 cm), and she must have been born after 1990. Given that Feng is reportedly at least 11 years older than the women he is targeting, his demographic preferences place him in a position where he is competing with much younger men for a specific and highly sought-after demographic of women.
Wang Zhihui noted that Feng’s rationale for these high standards is rooted in two main factors: genetic legacy and personal vanity. Feng has allegedly stated that he "needs to consider the next generation," implying that a taller, younger wife is essential for the perceived quality of his future children. Furthermore, Feng justifies his pickiness by citing his "baby face," believing that his youthful appearance allows him to transcend the traditional limitations associated with his actual age and height.
However, the matchmaker’s assessment of Feng’s situation is far less flattering. Wang suggests that Feng possesses a "strong sense of superiority" that is not supported by his objective standing in the competitive dating market. She argues that his refusal to adjust his expectations has not only led to ten years of bachelorhood but has also alienated potential partners who might have been compatible had he prioritized character over physical and age-related metrics.
The Economic and Social Friction of the "Blind Date"
Beyond his physical requirements, Feng has also been criticized for his behavior during the actual dating process. Wang Zhihui recounted an incident involving a blind date that highlighted a perceived lack of social grace and generosity. A woman had traveled from outside Hangzhou specifically to meet Feng. During the encounter, Feng reportedly refused to pay for a simple beverage for his date. In a reversal of traditional dating norms, the woman ended up purchasing a bottle of water for him instead.
This anecdote has been used by Wang to illustrate a broader issue of "stinginess," which she identifies as a significant barrier to Feng’s success. In Chinese dating culture, particularly in affluent regions like Zhejiang, the "bride price" (caili) and the expectation for the groom to provide a home and financial stability remain prevalent. While modern sensibilities are shifting, basic hospitality during a first meeting is still considered a fundamental social lubricant. Feng’s refusal to cover a small expense for someone who had traveled to see him was interpreted by his matchmaker as a lack of sincerity and a major "red flag" for any prospective partner.
Contextualizing the Chinese Marriage Market
To understand the weight of Feng’s story, one must look at the broader demographic and social challenges facing China today. According to data from the National Bureau of Statistics of China, the country has a significant gender gap, with roughly 30 million more men than women. This disparity is a lingering effect of the decades-long "one-child policy" and a cultural preference for male heirs. In such a competitive environment, men—particularly those who do not possess "high-value" traits such as exceptional height, high income, or property ownership—often find themselves at a disadvantage.
Hangzhou, a tech hub and one of China’s most prosperous cities, presents its own unique challenges. The cost of living is high, and the "marriage market" is often formalized in public spaces like the "Matchmaking Corner" in Huanglong Park. Here, parents display resumes of their children, listing heights, salaries, and property holdings. In this commodified environment, Feng’s rejection of 100 women is seen as a rejection of the reality of his own "market value."
The "Leftover" Narrative Shift
For years, the Chinese media focused on "Sheng Nu" or "leftover women"—successful, educated women who remained unmarried into their late 20s and 30s. However, the narrative is increasingly shifting toward "Sheng Nan" or "leftover men." Unlike their female counterparts, who often choose to remain single to pursue careers, many "leftover men" are found in rural areas or are urban dwellers who have been priced out of the marriage market or whose standards are wildly out of sync with their offerings.
Feng represents a specific subset of this demographic: the urban male who maintains a "sense of superiority" despite not meeting the traditional "tall, rich, and handsome" (gao fu shuai) ideal. His story highlights the psychological friction that occurs when traditional patriarchal expectations (the desire for a younger, beautiful wife) clash with the modern reality of female empowerment and demographic scarcity.
The Role of the Professional Matchmaker
The involvement of Wang Zhihui reflects the professionalization of dating in China. Matchmakers in China are not merely facilitators; they often act as social critics and coaches. Wang’s decision to share Feng’s story (while keeping his full identity private) serves as a strategic move to manage the expectations of her other clients.
"To find someone, [Feng] would need to lower his standards rather than have a strong sense of superiority," Wang stated. Her public commentary serves as a reminder that successful matchmaking requires a degree of "self-awareness"—a term she emphasized as the key takeaway from Feng’s decade of failure. In her view, the goal of matchmaking is to find a "match," which implies a level of parity between both parties’ attributes and expectations.
Psychological Analysis: The "Optimism Bias" in Dating
Psychologists often point to "optimism bias" or "illusory superiority" in dating scenarios, where individuals overestimate their own attractiveness and underestimate the requirements of the partners they seek. In Feng’s case, his "baby face" serves as a cognitive shield, allowing him to ignore the passage of time and the reality of his 11-year age gap with his target demographic.
Furthermore, the "paradox of choice" provided by a matchmaker who can continuously supply new candidates may have contributed to Feng’s behavior. When a person is presented with a seemingly endless stream of potential partners, they may become more likely to reject matches for minor perceived flaws, always believing that a "better" option is just around the corner. For Feng, this cycle has repeated for 120 months, resulting in a total lack of progress toward his goal of starting the "next generation."
Broader Implications for Society
The story of the "Brazen Rejector" resonates because it touches on the anxieties of a generation. As marriage rates in China hit record lows—falling to 6.83 million couples in 2022, the lowest since records began in 1986—the government and social institutions are increasingly concerned with the "marriageability" of the population.
Feng’s case illustrates that the decline in marriage is not solely due to economic factors or the pursuit of career goals; it is also influenced by a misalignment of social expectations. When individuals refuse to compromise on superficial criteria, the result is a stalemate that contributes to the aging population crisis and the shrinking workforce.
Moreover, the reaction to Feng’s "stinginess" reflects a growing intolerance for traditional gender roles when they are not accompanied by traditional responsibilities. If a man expects a woman to meet high physical and age-related standards, society—and matchmakers like Wang—increasingly expect that man to demonstrate significant financial and social "value" in return.
Conclusion: The Necessity of Self-Awareness
Ultimately, Wang Zhihui’s disclosure of Feng’s dating history serves as a social mirror. It asks individuals to evaluate whether their requirements for a partner are based on a desire for companionship and shared values or on a list of superficial "must-haves" that ignore their own reality.
As of the latest reports, Feng remains single, still searching for his "tall, pretty, local wife" born after 1990. His story remains a viral point of discussion across Chinese social media platforms like Weibo, where users frequently cite him as an example of why the dating market feels "broken." For those navigating the world of modern romance, the lesson from Hangzhou is clear: while it is important to have standards, those standards must be tempered with a healthy dose of self-awareness and a willingness to offer the same level of respect and generosity one expects to receive. Without this balance, the search for "the one" can easily turn into a decade of missed opportunities.
