A long-dormant scandal has detonated in China’s entertainment circles, with fresh accusations pointing to former Tianyu Media manager He Xiaojing as the mastermind behind a staggering 180 million yuan scheme to withhold Yu Menglong’s earnings, allegedly to enforce his silence over years of exploitation. As online rumors of retribution and buried truths proliferate rapidly, this revelation exposes the suffocating control Tianyu exerted over its artists. Just how extensive is this network of manipulation and deceit?
Yu Menglong, the charismatic actor famed for roles in Eternal Love and The Princess Weiyoung, passed away on September 11, 2025, in what authorities described as an accidental fall from a Beijing apartment after heavy drinking. Yet, persistent online investigations have unearthed claims of oppressive contracts at Tianyu Media, his long-time agency. Central to these allegations is He Xiaojing, a key manager who reportedly oversaw Yu’s career and later transitioned to roles in affiliated companies.
Sources from overseas forums and independent media suggest the 180 million yuan figure stems from punitive breach clauses in Yu’s contract. If he attempted to leave early, calculations based on his peak earnings could demand up to 200 million yuan in penalties—effectively trapping him and withholding substantial income. Netizens interpret this as deliberate salary suppression: low payouts despite high commercial value, turning artists into indentured talent.
He Xiaojing’s name surfaces repeatedly in leaks, alongside managers like Du Qiang and Zhou Pin, accused of monitoring Yu closely. After Tianyu’s contract ended around 2021, Yu reportedly signed with Tianjin Deep Blue Film, where He Xiaojing and others held positions. This shift did little to loosen the grip, with whispers that the same network continued financial and personal control.
The scandal ties into broader suspicions around Yu’s death. Leaked footage and autopsy rumors—bandaged wounds, unusual injuries—fuel theories of foul play linked to industry secrets. Tianyu’s history amplifies distrust: multiple artists under its umbrella have died suspiciously, from Qiao Renliang (same manager as Yu) to others in a so-called “death list.”
Online, calls for revenge echo loudly. Fans boycott projects tied to implicated figures, crashing stocks for parent company Mango Super Media and prompting executive resignations. Hashtags demanding transparency bypass censorship, spreading globally.
Insiders claim Yu resisted exploitative demands, leading to career freezes and financial strangulation. Attempts by stars like Yang Mi to poach him failed due to ironclad clauses. This “iron grip” allegedly ensured silence on darker practices—shell companies for laundering, coercive rules.
As revelations mount, questions intensify: Was the salary scheme revenge for defiance? How many artists endured similar betrayal? Tianyu denies ongoing ties post-contract, but the web appears unbreakable.
This bombshell may finally peel back layers of control in China’s star system. For Yu Menglong, silenced too soon, it could mean posthumous justice—or deeper entrenchment of secrets.
