Students got badly ripped off for 6,190 yuan! Don’t fall for fake “Repair Jianghu” again

Over the years, watching domestic games as well as the rise and fall of China’s internet services, what scares me most is not doing a bad job, but using a familiar face to deceive people’s trust. Some works do this too—swapping skins under the banner of nostalgia, wearing the appearance of authenticity while being, at their core, the oldest trick in the book. The case of “JD Quick Repair” encountered by college student Xiao Wang in Wenzhou this time carries a bit of that same stench, much like a crooked disciple in the martial world pretending to belong to a righteous, prestigious sect.

What happened is not complicated, but it is chilling to read. According to reports on April 16, Xiao Wang, a college student in Wenzhou, Zhejiang, accidentally spilled bottled water on a classmate’s Lenovo laptop, so he searched online and found a shop called “JD Quick Repair” that offered on-site repair. Its icon and color scheme closely resembled JD.com’s branding, and it even used JD’s mascot “JOY,” so Xiao Wang naturally assumed it was an official channel.

Back to the incident itself: the scam used a very familiar playbook. First, it lowers your guard with an “official-looking” shell, then overwhelms you with technical jargon. During the repair process, the merchant successively claimed motherboard corrosion, a damaged boost chip, memory and sound card failures, and the need for data recovery, before finally demanding 6190 yuan in one go. For a college student, this is not an ordinary repair bill—it is practically a heavy blade swung straight at the face.

But on closer inspection, the truly outrageous part came afterward. The next day, Xiao Wang took the computer to Lenovo’s official after-sales service for disassembly and inspection. The result showed that the computer had no repair traces at all; even the screws had never been touched. Even more gut-wrenching, the official inspection confirmed that the photos the merchant had previously used to “prove” the severity of the malfunction were not even of this laptop.

At that point, this was no longer a repair dispute, but a textbook scam. The report also mentioned that on multiple platforms across the country, one can find shops with similar names such as “JD Quick Repair” and “JD Speed Repair.” Some of their listed locations do not match their phone number registration areas, while JD customer service has explicitly stated that it has not carried out this kind of computer repair cooperation with external platforms. Low-price traffic baiting, impersonating official services, concealing quotations, technical intimidation, and then fabricating faults to force you to pay—this whole combo, frankly speaking, is even more straightforward than the pay-to-win traps in some low-quality wuxia browser games.

Beyond the emotional angle, what is most worth discussing here is actually the cost of trust in platform search scenarios. Many young users see familiar colors and familiar icons and instinctively assume it is “probably legit,” and that is exactly the loophole these fake shops love to exploit. Just like buying games: no matter how tempting a launch title looks, you still need to make sure it is the official store. The same goes for computer repair—prioritize the brand’s official after-sales service, or at least verify authorization credentials, and do not walk yourself straight into a dungeon someone else designed.

If I had to give everyone one practical piece of advice, I think it comes down to just three steps. First, before requesting repairs, verify the service channel through the brand’s official website, official App, or customer service—do not rely only on the first page of search results. Second, before any repair begins, keep records of the stated fault, the quotation, and the chat history; if disassembly is involved, it is best to require confirmation in person. Third, if you notice contradictions in their explanations or a wildly unreasonable quote, stop the process immediately and file a complaint with the platform; if necessary, report it directly to the police.

What the domestic service industry fears most is not being criticized for being demanding, but being dragged down by these counterfeits. The little trust that has been built up with great difficulty cannot withstand this kind of repeated erosion. Hopefully platforms and brands will become more proactive in cracking down on impersonation, and stop making ordinary consumers feel, every time they try to defend their rights, like they are struggling through an old wuxia game with no save points.