This weekend marked the sixth anniversary of the death of Dr. Li Wenliang, the courageous young ophthalmologist who, along with seven others, was branded a “rumormonger” and punished for attempting to warn people about a mysterious “SARS-like virus” before either the Wuhan or central governments had acknowledged the emerging coronavirus pandemic. (CDT has also published annual roundups of the anniversary tributes to Dr. Li from 2021, 2022, 2023, 2024, and 2025.)

Dr. Li, who succumbed to the coronavirus just over a month after he was censured, remains as censored in death as he was in life. CDT Chinese editors have archived five commemorative articles this year, of which four appear to have been deleted. Despite this, Chinese netizens continue to leave greetings and tributes under Dr. Li’s final Weibo post, which appears to remain online as a kind of safety value, and has become known as China’s “Wailing Wall.”

Among the censored articles is “Dr. Li: Six Years, Six Questions,” which raises six questions and six corollaries about Dr. Li’s punishment for trying to alert his colleagues to an emerging medical emergency, about the lingering effects of information suppression in the early days of the COVID pandemic, about why people continue to find solace and community on Dr. Li’s Wailing Wall, and more.

Another deleted piece, “In Memory of Dr. Li Wenliang, Paying Tribute to Every Brave Voice,” includes a brief bio and timeline about Dr. Li, compiled by the author from Baidu and other online sources, illustrated with some photos and drawings of the doctor, screenshots of his admonishment letter and some Wailing Wall comments, and an image of Dr. Li’s commemorative park bench in New York’s Central Park.

CDT Chinese editors have also archived a February 2020 account from Li Yuchen, then working as an intern at a law firm, about being grilled by police for eight hours in connection with a biography of Dr. Li Wenliang that he wrote and posted online. In an attempt to evade censorship, the author has resorted to pinyin substitutions for some Chinese characters: “yue谈” instead of “约谈” (yuētán, a “scheduled interview” with the police); “Fu能量” for “负能量” (fù néngliàng, “negative energy”); and “ZF” for 政府 (zhèngfǔ, "the government.") Despite these precautions, the post was deleted from Li Yuchen’s main WeChat account, but it remains visible on his secondary WeChat account. A portion of the post describing Li Yuchen’s interaction with a police officer, in which he tries to find out why he has been brought into the station for questioning, is translated below:

I asked him to get straight to the point and tell me what had incited this. But like in every other yuetan [chat] I’ve experienced with the police, he started by bringing up the “overall national situation.” That’s when I knew this would be a long-drawn-out exchange; I knew exactly what I was up against.

He talked about the anti-corruption campaign, and I talked about the “rule of law.” He brought up “the big picture,” and I brought up [Mao’s 1937 writings on] “the principal aspect of the major contradiction.” He mentioned the “negative effect on public opinion,” and I countered with the “supervisory role of the masses” and the fact that “government legitimacy originates with the people.” He talked about “unity and social harmony,” while I pointed to the “shift in China’s principal contradiction” since the 19th National Congress [in 2017]. He claimed that “positive energy” means we should exercise caution when publishing “negative information.” I immediately rejected his framing, and argued that you can’t equate “negative information” with “negative energy.”

Back and forth we went, him giving examples, and me doing likewise. There was no shouting. Eventually we reached a sort of consensus, which later formed the basis of my written and signed statement.

As for the article in question, his impression was that these kinds of pieces are always critical and fail to recognize the positive role of the government. He believed that people like me are necessary, of course, but he felt I should “take a broader view” of things.

I told him there are already propaganda departments to tout the positive role of the gvmt., and as a private citizen, I have the right to decide what I want to say to society.

When he argued that such a perspective would always be one-sided, I countered by saying that while the powers that be might need to “take the big picture into account,” it’s not obligatory for private citizens, and I choose to be a citizen who criticizes the powers that be.

At that moment, I thought of a phrase that’s been making the rounds: “When sharp criticism is no longer allowed, even faint praise might come to be seen as ‘wrong.’” [Chinese]

Another now-deleted article, “Six Years On, and One Million+ Comments on Dr. Li’s Last Weibo Post” briefly discusses the continuing importance of Dr. Li Wenliang’s Wailing Wall and highlights 100 comments left by visitors in recent days. (CDT also continues to track Wailing Wall comments and publish periodic updates in Chinese and in English.) The comments include Chinese New Year greetings; expressions of gratitude; personal updates; shared confidences; recollections of the difficult times early in the pandemic (particularly 2020, “that year”); references to Dr. Li’s well-known words, “There should be more than one voice in a healthy society”; and even some cloaked criticism of government authorities (often referred to vaguely as “them”). A selection of those comments, collected between January 26 and February 6, are translated below:

敖的莫宁: Dr. Li, the Chinese people are about to welcome the 2026 New Year. Thank you for your dedication and sacrifice on that “smokeless battlefield,” in the battle against death that year. It’s thanks to you that we’re here today, able to enjoy gathering with our families again. We’ll never forget you.

维坦坦PSY: WE must live on bravely so that the world is not completely taken over by THEM.

大之小之2007: Dr. Li, you don’t need to change anything for us. Just help me remember that even when I’m scared, I can still choose to be kind and aware, and not to back down. And help me not to give in to despair when I’m taking care of my kid.

王戲__: Good evening, Dr. Li! It’s been a while since I last visited. For some reason, I always think of you whenever there’s some life-or-death situation going on. I hope you’ll be remembered by more people.

大太阳的事_Sun: Time flies. That year was the first time I’d ever felt like the world was full of evil.

正版刘小姐: Dr. Li, thank you for your Weibo that gives me a place to express my feelings. I’m back in my hometown on holiday. Your words will forever be my WeChat tag. Thank you.

zha两次酥脆不回软: Pre-2020 was one world, and post-2020 is another world entirely. Sometimes when I look back at the news from 2020, it seems incredibly absurd and ironic. So many memories seem to have been instantly erased, bleached pure as the driven snow, but I’ll never see the world the way I did six years ago, nor ever regain my health. You’re resting in peace now, free from care, but I’ve still got a bit of a wait.

灰兔与鹊鸲: Dr. Li, you live on in our indelible collective memory. Six years ago, I was lucky enough to escape that catastrophe, but six years on, I find daily life increasingly suffocating. My industry has been hard-hit, it’s a struggle to survive, and I have a young child. I try so hard every day to keep my spirits up, just to keep going.

我只想做一片开心的面包: You tested positive on Feb. 1, and died on the front lines on Feb. 7, such a tragedy. Thank you for everything you did for us back then. [Chinese]