Former Analyst Hao Kai Publicly Confronts Uzi Over Unresolved Dispute, Igniting a Weibo Storm in Chinese Esports.

Hao Kai’s message was blunt: “You blocked me; do you really want to renege on this matter?” (把我拉黑了这事真想赖掉吗). Although he offered no specifics, the tone suggested a serious grievance, possibly financial or contractual, that had previously been handled privately. His allegation that Uzi had “blocked” him implied an attempt at private resolution that was cut off, forcing the former commentator onto a public platform to demand answers.

Uzi, who retired from professional play in 2020 but remains a fixture in the esports scene as a brand ambassador and Hall‑of‑Fame candidate, was reportedly online when the controversy broke. Yet, despite seeing the trending topic, he chose not to issue a statement. In the hours that followed, fans and netizens debated every possible angle, from a forgotten sponsorship deal to an undisclosed dispute tied to the 2018 World Championship where Uzi’s former team RNG reached the finals. Some commentators hinted that any unresolved wrongdoing could jeopardize Uzi’s eligibility for the LPL Hall of Fame – a coveted honor that cements a player’s legacy in the burgeoning Chinese esports canon.

The conversation intensified on Weibo, where Hao Kai’s post amassed thousands of forwards and tens of thousands of comments within a short span. Users accused Uzi of hypocrisy, pointed out the fragile nature of trust between players and commentators, and warned of the broader consequences for the industry’s reputation. Yet, just as quickly as the outcry rose, Hao Kai deleted his original posts. The removal fueled further speculation: Was a settlement through teams, league officials or the governing body of the sport—may be perceived as ineffective or inaccessible. Such public airing of grievances could erode confidence among current and aspiring players, sponsors, and investors, who may fear that personal conflicts could spill into the public eye and destabilize a brand’s image.

Second, the drama illustrates the growing parity between esports figures and traditional sports or entertainment celebrities. Uzi’s name carries weight far beyond the digital arena; his potential induction into a Hall of Fame mirrors the reverence given to historic athletes in other fields. As esports moves further into mainstream consciousness, its stars are subject to the same level of scrutiny, media pressure and demand for ethical conduct that long‑established sports figures endure. The fact that a single Weibo post can ignite nationwide debate demonstrates how potent personal branding has become in the sector.

Third, the episode carries subtle but noteworthy political implications. China’s esports market enjoys extensive government support, viewed both as a cultural export and an engine of technological innovation. Repeated public disputes risk attracting regulatory attention, as authorities seek to preserve a positive national narrative around a rapidly growing industry that is billed as a source of pride. While this particular spat is unlikely to trigger direct policy changes, it adds to a body of cases that could prompt tighter oversight or mandated conflict‑resolution frameworks to protect the sector’s reputation.

Finally, the reference in some online chatter to “Riot Games and Tencent would have to step in” if Uzi were found guilty of serious misconduct highlights the hierarchical reality of esports governance. Riot, the developer of League of Legends, and Tencent, its Chinese parent company, sit atop a multi‑layered structure that can intervene in matters of integrity, player conduct, and contractual breaches. Their potential involvement signals that, for all the independence players enjoy on the, and the very culture of competitive gaming. The dust may settle on this particular controversy, but the questions it raises about accountability, transparency, and the future of Chinese esports will linger well beyond the deleted Weibo post.