When 37-year-old Chinese actor Yu Menglong fell from a high-rise apartment in Beijing in September 2025, authorities quickly ruled the case an accident.
Within hours, posts and videos mentioning Yu vanished from social media, and searches for his name were blocked across Chinese platforms.
The speed and completeness of the censorship fueled widespread suspicion that the incident involved far more than a tragic fall.
Outside China, Chinese-language outlets and YouTube-style channels began circulating “exclusive reports” that connected Yu’s death to political power and corruption within the entertainment industry. While none of the claims have been independently verified, their consistency — and Beijing’s swift censorship — have turned the case into one of the most discussed mysteries of the year.
Among those to comment publicly was Zhang Xiaomin, a well-known actress from the 1980s who now lives in Canada. Zhang said she had contacted director Cheng Qingsong, one of the figures rumored to be involved, to ask about the allegations directly.
Success
You are now signed up for our newsletter
Success
Check your email to complete sign up
According to Zhang, Cheng denied knowing Yu Menglong personally and insisted he had been dining at another hotel during the incident — an alibi he said had been confirmed by police. He also claimed that a screenshot of his social-media post reading “delicious,” which circulated widely after Yu’s death, was fabricated.
Zhang said she did not know whether Cheng’s statements reflected the full truth but suggested that “even a person trying to clear his name may accidentally reveal part of what really happened.” She added that Yu’s management company deserved closer scrutiny:
“Behind every agency is capital — and behind capital, power. That’s where the real connections lie.”
Zhang expressed sorrow for Yu’s death and admiration for those still seeking answers despite the risk. “He deserves justice,” she said. “And those who keep asking questions deserve respect.”
The ‘coder’s dream’ and an online storm
Not long after Zhang’s comments, a self-described software engineer known online as “the Coder”(Ma Nong) claimed he had dreamed of Yu Menglong’s spirit. In the dream, Yu revealed that he had uncovered money laundering and illicit deals conducted through his agency’s accounts. According to the story, Yu tried to negotiate his departure but was trapped during a private party that turned into a ritual-like scene.
An AI-generated video dramatizing the dream went viral among overseas Chinese viewers. Some saw it as satire or allegory; others believed it disguising a genuine whistleblower’s message. The clip’s imagery — masked figures and surreal violence — invited speculation that the dream hinted at both a cover-up and a ritual killing.
Viewers raised further questions: Why did the “villains” resemble previous victims, such as actor Qiao Renliang? And who were the “powerful men” said to be behind the operation? Online posts pointed to Xi Yuanping, the younger brother of Xi Jinping, who was allegedly seen in the same Beijing apartment complex where Yu died.
Zhang later clarified that the “ghost story” was simply something sent to her by the Coder. Still, audiences believed it carried hidden truths — a coded way to discuss what could not be spoken aloud in China.
Independent commentator Li Dayu published another account from a veteran insider in Beijing’s film industry. The source alleged that Xi Yuanping acts as a behind-the-scenes power broker who oversees the capital’s entertainment networks — a system that combines money laundering, influence operations, and personal patronage.
The insider claimed that Yu’s case was not unique. “They’ve done this before,” the person said, naming other entertainers who had died under strange circumstances. “But this time, something divine intervened.”
Feng shui practitioners quoted in the reports described secretive “life-extension rituals” said to be carried out for China’s top elites. Such claims cannot be verified, but they persist in popular imagination, reflecting how corruption and superstition often converge in discussions of power.
Censorship and consequence
Zhang and other commentators pointed out that discussion of Yu Menglong’s death remains one of the most tightly censored topics in China.
According to Zhang’s contacts, the order to suppress online debate came “directly from Xi Jinping himself” after someone linked the incident to his brother.
“If the death of one actor can trigger that kind of response,” she said, “then those in power must know how serious the truth is.”
Analysts note that the pattern of mysterious deaths, combined with the speed of censorship, has eroded what little public trust remains in official explanations. In online forums, every disappearance or sudden death now prompts the same question: Who will be next?
For many observers, Yu Menglong’s case has become a symbol of the moral decay and opaque power structures inside China’s cultural industries.
It blends the country’s fascination with the supernatural and its fear of authority — a story where rumor fills the vacuum left by silence.
Though unverified, the testimonies of figures like Zhang Xiaomin and Li Dayu continue to circulate among the Chinese diaspora, sustained by the belief that truth, once suppressed, eventually resurfaces.
“In the end,” one overseas viewer wrote, “the more they try to erase his name, the more people remember him.”
By Li Jingyao, Ivy Ma
