From Supply Shortage to Cognitive Dissonance: How the ‘Goose Leg Aunt’ Scam Began

Online Freshness and the Viral Scam

At the end of 2023, Chen Xiufeng, nicknamed “Goose Leg Aunt,” became an internet sensation by selling goose legs for 16 yuan each; students queued, transferred money in group chats, and promoted the product. In 2026 she was reported for actually serving duck legs, claiming the change was forced by a lack of goose‑leg supply.

From “Can’t Get Stock” to Substitution

Market data show that domestic goose meat wholesale prices are two to three times those of duck, and goose supply is fragmented and often scarce, whereas duck is a standardized, abundant product. Faced with this constraint, the vendor chose between closing the stall—risking lost reputation and loyal customers—and substituting duck, a rational cost‑saving decision that could later be reversed when goose legs became available.

Why Not Inform Customers?

The key dilemma after substitution was whether to disclose the change. Disclosure would admit product downgrade, risk losing customers, and invite price‑reduction demands. Silence required no explanation and allowed transactions to continue, as many consumers did not notice the difference. This created cognitive dissonance: the vendor’s self‑image as an honest seller conflicted with the deceptive behavior. Festinger’s 1957 theory predicts two coping routes—changing the behavior (inform and adjust price) or changing the interpretation of the behavior. The latter, requiring less effort, led to a series of rationalizations:

“Everyone can’t tell the difference.”

“Duck legs taste fine too.”

“The sign is just a nickname, not a promise.”

“Old customers already know.”

Fraud Triangle in Action

Donald Cressey’s fraud‑triangle model (pressure, opportunity, rationalization) applies here. The pressure stemmed from the supply interruption, yielding an estimated extra profit of about 6 yuan per order—potentially tens of thousands of yuan annually. Opportunity existed because consumers could not easily detect the substitution and no one reported it for months. Rationalization was provided by the vendor’s justifications listed above.

Neural Adaptation and the Slippery Slope

Garrett et al. (2016) used fMRI to show that repeated deception reduces amygdala response to dishonesty, meaning each lie feels less uncomfortable. This neural adaptation predicts a “slippery‑slope” where the incremental scale of deception grows as emotional resistance weakens. The article outlines a simple differential‑equation model where the size of each deceitful act increases as amygdala adaptation accelerates.

Escalation Steps Observed

First duck‑leg substitution was accompanied by hesitation (strong amygdala response).

Second and third instances showed reduced hesitation.

Months later, the practice became perceived as normal operation.

When traffic surged, the vendor no longer sensed a problem, having internalized the deception.

System Equilibrium Disrupted by Traffic

Before the viral boom, the market resembled a fragile equilibrium: vendor narratives circulated within a tight circle of familiar students, information remained private, emotional ties reduced reporting incentives, and individual doubts were diluted by collective ignorance. This low‑supervision equilibrium functioned as an implicit collusion.

The influx of external traffic broke each support pillar: strangers replaced familiar consumers, knowledgeable eaters could distinguish goose from duck, sales rose to a million‑level turning the dispute into a potential criminal case under Article 140, and the social benefit of whistleblowing outweighed the cost of breaking familiar ties.

Two Competing Narratives

Narrative A (slip narrative) argues the vendor did not intend fraud; supply pressure triggered substitution, cognitive dissonance led to silence, and neural adaptation made the deception feel normal.

Narrative B (rational‑calculation narrative) points to the clear profit motive, trademark applications, and branding plans, suggesting the “can’t get stock” excuse was merely convenient.

The legal relevance lies in the subjective intent—whether the deception was accidental or calculated—mirroring Cressey’s observation that most fraudsters do not see themselves as criminals.

Regardless of the true narrative, the case shows how deception becomes self‑reinforcing and increasingly difficult to reverse once embedded in a system.

References: Cressey (1953); Garrett et al. (2016); Welsh et al. (2015).