When Chinese Counterfeit Products Quietly Entered My Morning Ritual It was one of those slow, intentional Sundays when the light filters through my linen curtains just so, casting soft geometric patterns on my wooden floor. I was sipping my single-origin pour-over, the steam curling in the cool morning air, when the package arrived—unexpected, unassuming. I hadn’t ordered anything, yet there it was: a small parcel wrapped in plain brown paper, addressed to me in delicate script. Inside, nestled in tissue paper, lay what appeared to be a replica of a minimalist ceramic mug I’d long admired but never purchased. This was my first conscious encounter with what many would call…