Elderly Chengdu Retiree Scammed by AI‑Boosted Livestream E‑Commerce Scheme Sparks Outcry and Calls for Stricter Regulation

The fraud came to light when Li’s granddaughter, Ms. Li, noticed the payment while reviewing her grandfather’s expenses. “I could not believe a man in his seventies would be signing up for a live‑streaming gig,” she recalled. The family contacted the consulting firm that had persuaded Li to join the program, only to be met with silence. The firm’s phone numbers were disconnected, its legal representative could not be reached, and its registered address—supposedly in Neijiang’s Dongxing district—turned out to be a virtual mailbox rather than a physical office.

Faced with a dead end, the Li family turned to the local public security bureau. Police investigators quickly discovered that the company had already been flagged as “abnormally operating” by the Neijiang Dongxing District Market Supervision Bureau on June 18. The bureau confirmed that the firm’s address was a virtual one, a red flag that often signals shell companies used to evade accountability. All clues were handed over to law‑enforcement officers, who now face the task of tracking down the elusive operators.

What began as a single family’s grievance quickly spiraled into a viral social‑media phenomenon. Within hours of the story’s appearance on Chinese platforms, netizens flooded comment sections with a mix of anger, sympathy, and demands for justice. Posts ranging from “Is there any conscience left?” (还有没有良心啊) to “This kind of behavior must be severely punished” (这种行为一定要严惩) illustrate the depth of public disgust. Many users expressed bewilderment at the idea of a septuagenarian entering the world of livestream sales, questioning how a senior could be lured into such a scheme. Others drew connections to a broader pattern of scams that target the elderly, particularly those peddling dubious health products, warning that the “silver economy” has become a fertile hunting ground for fraudsters.

The incident taps into three intersecting trends that have transformed China’s consumer landscape in recent years. First, the live‑streaming e‑commerce boom has turned ordinary individuals into on‑demand sellers, with platforms like Taobao Live, Douyin, and Kuaishou boasting billions of dollars in daily sales. While the model has created genuine opportunities for entrepreneurs, its rapid expansion has outpaced regulatory frameworks, leaving gaps that unscrupulous actors readily exploit.

Second, China’s aging population—over 200 million citizens are now 60 or older—faces a digital divide that makes them especially vulnerable. Many seniors lack the digital literacy to discern between legitimate training programs and predatory pitches, and they may be motivated by the desire for social engagement or supplemental income in retirement. The Li case underscores how easily an information asymmetry can be weaponized: a consulting company promises training and a pathway to fame, while the fine print hides fees and vague revenue‑sharing arrangements that most older adults cannot evaluate.

Third, the story has amplified a growing public demand for consumer protection in the online sphere. Commentators are not merely venting frustration; they are calling for concrete actions—a crackdown on “virtual address” companies, mandatory disclosure of contract terms, and stronger penalties for firms that vanish after extracting money. Some users have urged platforms themselves to take responsibility, suggesting age‑appropriate warnings and more robust reporting mechanisms to shield vulnerable users from deceptive content.

Industry observers warn that incidents like Li’s could tarnish the entire live‑streaming ecosystem. “When a senior citizen is duped into a contract they can’t understand, the public’s trust in the whole sector erodes,” says Chen Wei, a digital‑economy analyst based in Shanghai. “Regulators need to step in with clearer licensing rules for MCN (multi‑channel network) agencies and enforce transparency on income projections. Otherwise, the market’s growth will be shadowed by a cascade of scandals.”

From a policy perspective, the case raises several urgent questions for Chinese lawmakers. Existing consumer‑protection statutes were drafted before the rise of livestream commerce, and they often lack the specificity needed to address contracts that promise “AI‑boosted” sales performance. Legal scholars are urging the National Development and Reform Commission and the State Administration for Market Regulation to draft guidelines that explicitly define what constitutes a legitimate training service, set caps on upfront fees, and prescribe penalties for companies that operate from virtual addresses—a common loophole for fraudsters.

Law‑enforcement agencies, meanwhile, are being cautioned to develop specialized units that can trace digital scams across provincial and even international borders. The “virtual address” tactic, coupled with the ease of setting up shell companies online, makes traditional investigative methods cumbersome. A coordinated approach that brings together market supervision bureaus, cyber‑crime units, and consumer‑rights watchdogs could improve the speed and effectiveness of response.

The Li family’s ordeal, though modest in monetary terms, epitomizes a deeper societal challenge: how to protect a generation that grew up in a world without smartphones, social media, or instant e‑commerce, now being thrust into a hyper‑connected marketplace that promises both opportunity and peril. For the Li grandfather, the experience has left a bitter taste. “I wanted to learn something new, to feel useful,” he said in a brief interview. “Instead, I ended up being taken advantage of.”

As the story continues to ripple through Chinese cyberspace, it serves as a cautionary tale for anyone—young or old—thinking about jumping into the livestream arena. It also signals to regulators, platforms, and consumers alike that the rapid digitisation of commerce must be matched by equally rapid safeguards, especially for those who are most at risk of being left behind. In the meantime, the Li family hopes that the authorities will bring the deceptive firm to justice, and that their case will spark the protective reforms they so desperately need.