All the ingredients of a bombshell in the age of aesthetics are there: a handsome, successful physician; a scandalous private video; and a confounding public apology

It started with a video that in itself has the making of a good 短剧 (duanju), the short-form web series now popular in China and the region. There is the car—a BMW, no less. There is the supposed adulterer, a medical doctor still in his scrubs. There is the adulteress, sexily-clad for a tryst, and her enraged husband, the relentless videographer. The narrative arc of the five-minute reel is more compelling than many movies now screening near you. According to multiple Malaysian media reports, the incriminating video was initially shared in a Facebook post on 25 August by the cuckold. It is now deleted. However, once a sordid video is posted online, it is usually quickly downloaded and re-uploaded across numerous other platforms, turning a private matter to a national-level scandal. The was destined to be epic.

The physician in question is Wong Lu Yang (王禄阳), an aesthetic doctor with his own practice in Kota Bharu, colloquially known as KB, the state capital and royal seat of Kelantan. On Facebook, he is self-touted as a practitioner of “men’s health and aesthetic” . In the video, Dr Wong appeared to be caught red-handed in an apparent illicit tête-à-tête. It takes place in the said BMW, parked in a lot surrounded by verdant lushness. The recording begins with a man (as identified by his voice) aiming his device at a woman in the front passenger seat after opening the car door. He sarcastically asks her in a Mandarin of indeterminate accent: “Are you seeing the children or the doctor?” He continues to berate her, “You told me you miss the children. Is this how you miss them?” And adds in Malay: “Gitu? Gitu rindu anak (Like that? You miss your kids like that)?”

There is the supposed adulterer, a medical doctor still in his scrubs. There is the adulteress, sexily-clad for a tryst, and her enraged husband, the videographer

The sudden switch to Malay is intriguing. Is the woman not a speaker of Mandarin. She does not look ethnically Chinese. She is dressed to turn heads, in a grey, body-con mini-dress with a half-bare back that suggests she wore no brassiere. It appears to be a dupe of a Pull and Bear piece, available online for RM28.84 (or about S$8.76). On the woman’s feet are unsexy white, backless, strappy sandals with block heels. The unknown lass remains quiet throughout the ordeal, at most inaudible. The man pulls her out of the car, saying he wants to bring her home. Then he reveals something that adds a new layer to their plight: “你以为你已经有黑白纸啊，你离婚了啊？你玩什么?” He asks, “do you think you have it in black and white? Do you think you are already divorced? What are you playing” She is still silent.

Dr Wong, who has left the car, stays wordless. Then he blurts, surprisingly calmly, “you guys are already divorced.” The reply is swift: “No divorce. Nothing in black and white.” The woman tries to pull something away from the man, but gives up. The doctor tells her, in English, to “get in the car”. She obeys. He then tells the man not to touch her as the couple is already divorced. The man challenges him: “Divorced? When?” He turns his attention to the woman: “你来玩BM, 谁不懂 ( you are here to play BM, who doesn’t know)?” He added, “一次一次讲想孩子，这样啊，想孩子 (you keep saying you miss the kids. Is this how you miss them)?” He then attacks the doctor, saying, “you know she has children, you know she is married. And you dare play, dare to make love?!”

The doctor is not going to be the scapegoat for the day’s event. He challenges the accuser: “Which one of your eyes saw?” The man persists: “Inside the clinic.” The doctor remains adamant. “If there is a video, then post it,” he says, blinking rapidly. Defiantly, the angry man replies: “I will. Tonight.” Dr Wong did not appear affected by the threat. He stood in front of the car door behind which sat the sole woman of the dramatic event. The video ended rather oddly with a capture of a court document: petisyen perceraian (divorce papers) filed by a husband named Wong Hann Jie against a wife named Lua Viviem. It included his request for custody of their children. As it turned out, the man is right. The divorce is not finalised.

And with that final still, the private drama is no longer just a two-and-a-half-minute clip; it is a promise fulfilled, sparking a firestorm across Malaysia’s always lively social media landscape. One “clinic video” appears online and rapidly shared, although it is not clear who first posted it. In what is no doubt a CCTV capture, it showed a man, purported to be the physician, in supposedly a clinic, caught in a compromising position with seemingly a staffer. Another showed the same man going into a room with apparently a nurse. Netizens quickly jumped on the bandwagon blame, accusing the doctor of blatant philandering. Some even cheekily commented that BMW stands for “Bring More Women”. Others countered: “Bang Married Women”.

Netizens quickly jumped on the bandwagon blame, accusing the doctor of blatant philandering. Some even cheekily commented that BMW stands for “Bring More Women”

As it turns out, the video was filmed by the aggrieved husband, identified in the divorce papers as Wong Hann Jie. Also known as Jason Wong, he accompanied the post with a lengthy telling, in Malay, of what happened to his decade-old marriage. Marital bliss dissipated when he discovered that his wife, Ms Viviem (her ethnicity is not identified), was playing away from home. “I would never have guessed that the one I love the most, the one that sleeps by my side every night would cheat.” He went on to say that what drove his wife to another man’s arm was not because he is poor, he fights with her, does not give her “quality time”. There has been no misunderstanding either. He did not say what could have tempted her to see another man on the side. “It ends, my 10 years of marriage,” he wrote. “I choose to continue living, not because I have lost but because I love myself and my children more.” He ended with “cheating is a choice, not a mistake.”

As the husband’s post and the video clip began to tear through social media, the public awaited a response from the accused. The doctor had created a new Facebook account after deleting his previous. In the current, his first text entry, in English, two days ago was “to inform the public that I, together with my family, have been threatened and subjected to cyberbullying on social media. False and harmful content, including my face, my family members, friends, and organizations I am involved with, as well as my phone number, have been shared without my consent.” It read like a letter written by a lawyer or ChatGPT. Dr Wong continue to say that he has made a police report and threatened to take legal action against those who misuse his personal data, post defamatory content, or harass his family. He ended with notable PR savvy by apologising “for the attention and concern this issue has caused, as well as the unnecessary use of public resources”, adding that it is all a “personal matter”.

Dr Wong’s statement shows a strategic approach on his part: first, a defensive legal notice, then a personal, emotional appeal in the form of a Facebook text status of white font sans-serif font in a red box. He wrote in Chinese, first thanking his supporters and informing them that he and his family are doing well. Interestingly, he said that “two to three months ago, they have already prepared.” For what, he did not elaborate, but it appears the incident in that viral video took place a few months prior. His wife was, however, hurt for “a second time”, which made him “内疚和同心 (guilty and pained)”. He concluded by offering an apology to his wife again, without explaining why there was a repeat performance. Netizens unsurprisingly put him on blast, flaying him with their words in the comments, with many severely berating him for not thinking of his wife—his carnal appetite had to be satiated first.

Shortly after that text apology, Dr Wong shared a video—also on Facebook—that served as both an admission of guilt and a bid for public sympathy. Although he has said that what happened in the video exposé was a “personal matter”, he chose to put out a social media apology that is often associated with influencers saddled with scandal. In it, he was not a man of defiance, but of contrition. He traded his scrubs for a crew-neck T-shirt and spoke in Mandarin, expressing gratitude and apology to his wife, twice more. He repeated that the incident happened months earlier and he had been “upfront” with his wife. And that she has “decided to let me return to the family.” The true nature of the apology, it appeared, was for a “second hurting”—possibly the pain caused by the scandal being made public. He urged his critics to give them space as the case is going through the legal processes.

He traded his scrubs for a T-shirt and spoke in Mandarin, expressing gratitude and apology to his wife twice more

At the end of the seemingly hastily pasted video, which looked like it was shot in a bedroom, his wife made an unexpected appearance, requesting somewhat meekly privacy to be accorded to her family. Dr Wong had shared photos of him and his wife on his earlier socials. She was usually quite dolled up, but this time, she went before the video lens sans make-up; her hair, centre-parted and straight down behind her ears. She wore a cream coloured, band-collared, slightly-too-big jacket over a plan black crew-neck T-shirt. She looked nothing like the woman her husband was found in his BMW with. She did not look willing to be there. It was not quite a stand-by-her-man moment. She said nothing to corroborate her husband’s claim that she had agreed to him returning to her. She did not say she accepted his gratitude, let alone his apology. Her appearance did nothing for her, but more for him.

Not much is known about Dr Wong, other than his seeming popularity in Kota Bharu. There is no confirmed information on where he was born. But it is known that he attended Pin Hwa High School, a 102-year-old private Chinese institution in Klang in Selangor. Graduating from such a school suggests a background of academic rigour (in one FB reel, he did boast that he did receive “7 to 8 As) and a family that valued a quality education. He then went on to medical school in Crimea, at the S. Georgievsky Medical Institute in Simferopol, according to his LinkedIn profile. The university is not typical for Malaysian doctors, adding another layer of complexity to Dr Wong’s already captivating story. For a period of time, starting in the 1990s and 2000s, there was a trend of Malaysian students going to Ukraine and other Eastern European countries to pursue medical degrees. This was often seen as a more affordable option compared to studying in Western countries (Australia, the U.K. or the U.S., just to name three) or even in private medical schools in Malaysia.

The key issue with degrees from places like the Crimean Medical Institute is their recognition by the Malaysian Medical Council (MMC). For a foreign medical degree to be valid in Malaysia, the university must be on the MMC’s list of recognized medical qualifications. According to local reports, in 2005, the MMC announced that it would no longer recognise the medical degrees from several institutions in Ukraine, including the Crimean State Medical University (which S. Georgievsky Medical Institute was part of). This decision caused significant controversy and distress among students already studying there or planning to. The MMC cited concerns about the quality of education and training, stating that the university failed to meet its accreditation criteria. Many students who had already enrolled before the de-recognition were allowed to continue their studies and were granted special permission for recognition after they graduated. However, after the grace period expired, any new graduates from the university would not be eligible to practice in Malaysia.

Given the de-recognition occurred in 2005, Dr. Wong would have had to enroll at the Crimean institution sometime before that to have his degree recognized by the MMC. This would place him as a student there in the early 2000s This background suggests that Dr Wong did not follow the traditional route of attending local public universities or prestigious Western tertiary institutions, which are the most common paths for Malaysian doctors. His choice of a less conventional and now de-recognised medical school highlights the challenges and alternative routes that some aspiring doctors took in the past. It further separates him from the mold of the tradisional Malaysian doctor and, in the context of the scandal, provides yet another reason why his situation is so fascinating to the public.

Dr Wong did not follow the traditional route of attending local public universities or prestigious Western tertiary institutions, which are the most common paths for Malaysian doctors

The professional stigma—if there was—probably would not have been obstacles to his career path or dent his ambition in the smallish town of Kota Baru. But the scandal would have a very different flavor in a state like Kelantan, which is often associated with a more conservative and traditional culture. The controversy, in fact, immediately led to him being suspended as president of JCI Kota Bharu. The fact that a reputable NGO, even while stressing the personal nature of the matter, felt the need to distance itself so quickly highlights the severity of the scandal’s local impact on his public standing. The NGO’s plea for people to stop “spamming or attacking” their social media pages also underscores the local public’s strong reaction. Additionally, some reports suggested Dr Wong had been terminated at his clinic, but it is more accurate to say that the clinic’s social media pages were either taken down or made private shortly after the scandal erupted.

A key element that makes this story so compelling is the absence of a professional verdict. While the public has already delivered its hasty moral judgment, the Malaysian MMC, has yet to publicly comment on the scandal. This silence is not a sign of indifference, but rather a reflection of its strict and confidential disciplinary process. The MMC only acts on formal complaints of “serious professional misconduct” and does not make statements on ongoing investigations to the public or media. The official verdict, if one is ever reached, will not be delivered in the court of public opinion, but behind closed doors, based on evidence and ethical statutes. This stands in stark contrast to how swiftly the public vilified Dr Wong Lu Yang, leaving the next chapter of his professional story unwritten, and highlighting the chasm between social media’s rapid-fire justice and a professional body’s quiet, methodical procedure.