By outdoor-nature-child.com Every day, they attend classes, take notes, and complete tasks, spending thousands of dollars on so-called health practices and supplements.
An Elderly Woman Obsessed with Health: Buying Courses Is Cheaper Than Going to the Hospital
□ By Sun Tianjiao, Staff Reporter
Wearing reading glasses and completely engrossed in her smartphone, 72-year-old Ren Lin from Changsha, Hunan, leans over her desk. On the screen, a so-called “health expert” livestreams a series of wellness tips, and Ren diligently takes notes as the expert speaks. At the end of each session, she eagerly completes a quiz to earn a prize, telling her family, “Look, I earned thirty cents again!”
This has become Ren’s daily routine over the past six months. It all began when she stumbled upon a wellness article shared in her social media feed. Finding it informative, she followed the associated public account, which soon led to a “wellness assistant” adding her as a friend and inviting her to join a group. Here, participants earn a small cash reward for attending daily lessons and answering questions correctly.
Initially, Ren’s family dismissed her newfound enthusiasm for the lessons, but soon strange items began appearing around the house—bile powder, probiotics… It turns out that the livestreaming classes were heavily promoting health products. Under the sales pitch of “curing all ailments” and “preventing aging and chronic diseases,” Ren made repeated purchases.
“Bile powder costs over 2,000 yuan per box, with very basic packaging that lacks ingredient and efficacy information. It seems like a dubious product,” complained her granddaughter, Ms. Xu, who noted that despite family warnings, Ren remains convinced of the expert’s credibility. Following her family’s admonitions, Ren hasn’t purchased more health products, but she continues to watch the livestream daily and often expresses a desire to buy recommended items.
A recent investigation by a legal newspaper found that many elderly individuals, like Ren, become engrossed in these online health schemes, spending money on courses, feverishly taking notes, and purchasing supplements. Many believe that investing in these courses now is cheaper than frequent trips to the hospital in the future. As online livestreaming becomes more ubiquitous, numerous seniors have shifted their wellness education to digital platforms, seeking health and fitness knowledge. Unscrupulous individuals have recognized this demand among the elderly, using livestream platforms to aggressively market so-called “health courses” and selling overpriced and low-quality products.
Experts indicate that these specifically tailored online wellness courses for seniors are potentially illegal, as they often involve false advertising and exaggerated claims. The products being sold, dressed up with persuasive language, lead some elderly consumers to believe they are “cures for all illnesses,” potentially resulting in financial losses and health risks for the elderly population. Comprehensive management of livestream content, sales processes, and the grey supply chain is urgently needed. Relevant authorities should acknowledge the needs of the elderly and enhance the regulation of online content, providing them with positive, compliant health knowledge tailored to their needs.
Customized Health Courses
High-priced Health Products
Ms. Xu showed the reporter a video screenshot featuring speakers with titles like “Traditional Chinese Medicine Attending Physician,” “National-level Nutritionist,” and “Health Manager,” all promoting various health techniques. The video was part of a wellness course segment titled “Meeting Traditional Medicine,” complete with the logo of a television station in the corner.
“The speaker claimed to have appeared on CCTV, but I couldn’t find any related programs; they also called themselves a primary physician but never mentioned which hospital,” said Ms. Xu, noting that younger individuals would quickly identify these claims as false, while the elderly may struggle to discern the truth.
Investigations reveal that some scammers target elderly adults, fabricating “expert” identities to deliver health information on short video platforms and private livestreams. They entice seniors to join chat groups, subsequently engaging in brainwashing tactics while advertising their health products as “highly effective” and “rare ingredients,” persuading them to spend money on courses and purchases. In reality, many of the health products being sold are either substandard or available for much less on other platforms.
In Wuhan, Ms. Xiong reported that her over-60 mother recently became enamored with a program named “National Medicine xX,” and was drawn into a health group where members watch videos and answer questions daily to earn rewards and occasional gifts.
“I watched one of their promotional videos claiming their instructors are highly reputable in traditional medicine and have saved countless lives. Next, they began pitching various products that supposedly cured numerous ailments. The video concluded with testimonials from elderly individuals who claimed their conditions improved after using the products. The entire cycle of promoting the course and selling products occurred online, with customer service representatives providing one-on-one follow-up,” Ms. Xiong explained. Her mother, convinced by the so-called “experts,” spent over 2,000 yuan on a life therapy device in August and another 1,900 yuan on a so-called “cure-all” light device in September. “When I inspected it, I saw it was manufactured in 2018, and a similar therapeutic light could be purchased for around 200 yuan on e-commerce platforms.”
In Chongqing, Ms. Wu also expressed concern about her 80-year-old mother, who inadvertently clicked on an advertisement while listening to audiobooks on her phone. An account posing as “Wellness Course Assistant” added her as a friend and invited her to a health group. After attending a few sessions, her mother became convinced of the program’s credibility and spent thousands on recommended products.
“One product, a herbal patch called ‘Fire x贴,’ cost 1,380 yuan for five boxes. The instructor claimed it could prevent acute myocardial infarction. The seller used cash-on-delivery shipping. My mother suffered skin irritation and rashes after using the patch but wouldn’t seek medical help. When she questioned the seller, they advised her to continue using it,” Ms. Wu said. Despite family efforts to educate her about the dangers of these dubious products, attempts to persuade her have been in vain.
Some “wellness courses” start online and then extend their activities offline.
Sixty-year-old Huang Hong from Shenzhen, who focused on health knowledge after retirement, joined several wellness groups on her smartphone. In July, she encountered a short video account called “xX Daoist Health,” where the presenter claimed to be a practitioner of Wudang Qigong. The account offered a one yuan link for purchasing, promising contact with a health assistant to enter the group. After adding the assistant as a friend and sharing her health concerns, Huang received a video from a “Daoist” to address her issues. Engaged by the video content, she purchased a 2,980 yuan “Daoist Seven-day Detox Camp” course.
Soon after, Huang was added to an advanced health group with over 200 members, accessible only to full-paying members. In this group, she followed the “Daoist” from 6 AM to 9 PM for daily livestream classes and followed a meal plan sent by the instructor.
In early October, the “Daoist” announced a seven-day offline detox workshop in Xi’an, priced at 13,000 yuan, excluding food, lodging, or travel expenses, and stipulating no food during that time. “My mother has low blood sugar; how could she endure not eating for seven days? After seeing a promotional video showing an elderly woman needing assistance to walk before miraculously improving, my mom was determined to join,” said Huang’s daughter, Ms. Gao.
On October 21, Huang returned home after the detox program, noticeably slimmer. The next day, a health assistant contacted her with promotional material for new courses, priced at 199,000 yuan each for different modules—totaling nearly 800,000 yuan, but offered at a discount for those who participated in the detox workshop.
“After this event, she’s more obsessed with these wellness courses. Back home, she rigidly kept her schedule, promptly practicing meditation and obsessively rewatching the ‘Daoist’s’ recorded videos,” Ms. Gao expressed her concerns.
The reporter consulted with staff from the Henan Provincial Ethnic and Religious Affairs Commission, who subtly indicated that those without teaching credentials should not be easily trusted. Even if there are obscure, unregistered sects with hidden successors, doctrinally, they are not permitted to engage in private profit-making activities.
A Gradual Induction into the Scheme
The Elderly Become Deeply Engrossed
On May 23 of this year, the Anhui Huainan Intermediate People’s Court announced the verdict of a fraud case involving ten individuals accused of fraudulent activities, sentenced to prison terms ranging from three years to over thirteen years along with fines.
Investigation revealed that Cheng, with only a middle school education, registered Shan Zi Media Co. in June 2019, positioning himself as the legal representative. He recruited a persuasive high school graduate, who was labeled a “health expert” with various fictitious titles. They launched livestream sessions across short video platforms, initially appearing to teach health knowledge but primarily selling health products. Their deceptive promotions inflated the prices of ordinary health products, with some items sold for ten or twenty times their actual cost.
To prevent exposure, the group operated primarily on niche livestream apps and private channels, employing a network of local product distributors to recruit viewers through password-protected access. Only those with the password could access their sessions.
The reporter’s investigation revealed a similar layering and strict checks across multiple health-focused livestreams.
On October 21, around 10 PM, the reporter searched for “health” on a short video platform and found several livestreams promoting health knowledge. The content across different accounts was quite similar—displaying a paper with terms like “insomnia” and “cough,” along with a set of hands performing acupressure massage techniques. The livestream hosts encouraged viewers to follow links to learn more wellness tips.
Following the prompts and clicking on these links, some led to adding social media accounts, while others opened a page offering a “Health Training Camp” with prompts like “Get Physical Conditioning Methods Now,” also directing to add specific accounts posing as health assistants. These accounts typically had names such as “Wellness Assistant” or “Class Coordinator,” featuring profile pictures that seemed to follow a template, often labeling themselves as group leaders promoting happiness.
After adding these accounts, users receive links to learning materials, claiming completion would lead to opportunities for quizzes and small rewards. The learning content often features videos that spend much of their runtime introducing the instructor’s credentials, like “inheritor of Chinese medicine” or “hospital director,” making them seem trustworthy. Users must finish the entire video without pausing to take the quiz, which consists of basic questions regarding the group and course title, and upon submitting correct answers, their personal information gets recorded.
In one session, an instructor claiming to be a “hospital director” stated, “Meeting the healthcare needs of our communities can be time-consuming and costly. To help more people recognize our value, we’re launching promotional activities. Everyone here can earn rewards for referring friends and family to our group. While it’s not much, it’s our way of thanking you for your generosity…”
After participating in several different wellness courses and answering quizzes, one wellness assistant informed a participant that entry qualifications were under review; others required individuals to submit personal information, and one even called the next morning to ask about the attendee’s age and health needs.
Mr. Mei from Liaoning, concerned for his elderly grandmother who bought numerous dubious products, attempted to infiltrate his grandmother’s wellness group using a fake identity. He found that initially, users could access recorded lessons for free and earn small rewards. “The lessons were merely basic wellness principles easily searchable online,” Mr. Mei observed. After some time, when users showed commitment, “wellness assistants” would offer membership into more advanced groups, requiring a fee that climbed significantly from one yuan to over a thousand.
“By the time individuals were invited into product groups, they had developed a strong trust, often buying whatever was recommended,” Mr. Mei noted, revealing how his nearly 80-year-old grandmother recently insisted on a transfer of over 3,000 yuan for a product called “bone marrow powder” that she believed could cure everything from headaches to cancer. “After she used it, I discovered its ingredient list listed ‘soy milk powder.’ They then promoted an even more expensive product—a never-ending cycle of harvesting the elderly’s savings.”
Establishing Cooperative Regulatory Mechanisms
Risk Assessment and Registration
During interviews, relatives of elderly victims shared their frustrations regarding the difficulty in locating physical stores or company addresses. Even when aware of scams, reporting them online often yields little response. Even if platforms terminate fraudulent accounts, these scammers quickly establish new ones to continue similar schemes. Furthermore, many online courses require private money transfers, complicating refund processes.
Experts in the field have indicated that timely detection and prosecution of such scams targeting the elderly present inherent challenges.
Sun Yu, an associate professor at North China University of Science and Technology, explained that while these “experts” do share some common wellness knowledge, the extent of deception is often relatively minor. In such cases, despite clear instances of fraud, it can be complex to classify these as criminal due to a lack of evidence demonstrating an intent to unlawfully possess assets. Furthermore, if vendors have legal operating licenses and offer return policies, aggrieved consumers may only pursue resolution through civil means, making it difficult to meet criminal criteria.
Jiang Baoliang, a senior partner at Shandong Deheng Law Firm, stated that online health scams are frequently treated as economic disputes rather than criminal activity. Although creators often employ false advertising, proving intent to unlawfully occupy funds remains challenging. Coupled with valid product claims and return policies, potential victims often see minimal recourse when the matter doesn’t rise to the level of criminal prosecution.
“Given the vast number of livestream platforms and hosts, effective scrutiny of whether each livestream’s content and credentials comply with legal standards is formidable. Also, platforms’ responsibilities in selling health products lack clarity, and inadequate regulatory measures contribute to complications in gathering evidence against these often verbal false claims. Many consumers, upon realizing they have been deceived, often assess the potential losses and the effort required for legal redress, leading many elderly victims to avoid informing their families, intensifying the challenge of advocacy,” Jiang stated.
He emphasized that combating online wellness scams necessitates collaboration among market regulation, police, and other relevant departments, focusing on building robust cooperative regulatory frameworks.
“Selling ‘no-name’ health products through false advertising while impersonating experts is illegal. Offenders face fines, forfeiture of illegal gains, and potential suspension of operations. If such actions pose severe threats to