Post: "Seven names the powers that be want to erase." Opportunity... or a curse woven between contracts, cameras, and silence? For nearly two decades, seven artists associated with the same agency—Tianyu Media, one of China's most influential—have died or disappeared under strikingly similar circumstances. From 2006 to 2025, history repeats itself with eerie precision. And the last name on that list is Yu Menglong (Alan Yu). An actor and singer beloved by millions, a symbol of elegance, discipline, and poise. On September 11, 2025, he was found dead after falling from a building in Beijing. The official version spoke of an "accident." But no one believed that story. Fans began to notice a pattern. 2006: Tan Peixi, "car accident." 2011: Shang Yubo, "fell after an argument." 2013: Qiao Renliang, "committed suicide due to depression." 2016: Jiao Ren, "died after work stress." 2017: Liu Jiayong, "set collapse." 2019: Cai Zhong, "fell during a drought." 2020: Another unknown name... removed even from the database. And now, 2025: Yu Menglong. Total silence. No local media outlets were able to cover the story. Platforms blocked his name. Hundreds of posts were removed. But that didn't stop the digital echo. The movement spread a burning torch in the darkness, surpassing half a million mentions in less than a week. A journalist, Limu Yang, claimed to have evidence of evidence manipulation and connections between entertainment, financial, and political figures. His investigation turned him into a target. His report was withdrawn, his account suspended. But his name continued to circulate on alternative networks, where users called him "Shanghai's last free voice." ...and Mrs. Yu... A few weeks later, she released a letter signed with her red fingerprint—a sacred symbol in China, used for blood oaths—that her son had not fallen, that he had been silenced. Later, she too disappeared. No trace. No response. Meanwhile, fans organized themselves, archiving footage, sharing fragments, saving every video, every interview, every recording. Because they understood that Yu Menglong was no longer just an actor: he was a symbol of a generation that refused to allow itself to be erased. And then the question everyone feared arose: "What if the curse isn't a myth... but the price of telling the truth?" In the end, seven names formed an echo that no censor could erase. And every time someone wrote Yu Menglong again, the algorithm remembered... That memory could also be an act of resistance. #JusticeForYuMenglong #TruthForYuMenglong #YuMenglong #justiceforalanyuPost: "Seven names that power wants to erase." Opportunity... or a curse woven between contracts, cameras, and silence? For nearly two decades, seven artists associated with the same agency—Tianyu Media, one of China's most influential—have died or disappeared under strikingly similar circumstances. From 2006 to 2025, history repeats itself with eerie precision. And the last name on that list is Yu Menglong (Alan Yu). An actor and singer beloved by millions, a symbol of elegance, discipline, and poise. On September 11, 2025, he was found dead after falling from a building in Beijing. The official version spoke of an "accident." But no one believed that story. Fans began to notice a pattern. 2006: Tan Peixi, "car accident." 2011: Shang Yubo, "fell after an argument." 2013: Qiao Renliang, "committed suicide due to depression." 2016: Jiao Ren, "died after work stress." 2017: Liu Jiayong, "set collapse." 2019: Cai Zhong, "fallen during a drought." 2020: Another unknown name... removed even from the database. And now, 2025: Yu Menglong. Total silence. No local media outlets were able to cover the story. Platforms blocked his name. Hundreds of posts were removed. But that didn't stop the digital echo. The movement spread a burning torch in the darkness, surpassing half a million mentions in less than a week. A journalist, Limu Yang, claimed to have evidence of evidence manipulation and connections between entertainment, financial, and political figures. His investigation turned him into a target. His report was withdrawn, his account suspended. But his name continued to circulate on alternative networks, where users called him "Shanghai's last free voice." ...and Mrs. Yu... Weeks later, she released a letter signed with her red fingerprint—a sacred symbol in China, used for blood oaths—that her son had not fallen, that he had been silenced. Later, he too disappeared. No trace. No answers. Meanwhile, fans organized themselves, archiving footage, sharing fragments, saving every video, every interview, every recording. Because they understood that Yu Menglong was no longer just an actor: he was a symbol of a generation that refused to let itself be erased. And then the question everyone feared arose: "What if the curse isn't a myth... but the price of telling the truth?" In the end, seven names formed an echo that no censor could erase. And every time someone wrote Yu Menglong again, the algorithm remembered... That memory could also be an act of resistance. #JusticeForYuMenglong #TruthForYuMenglong #YuMenglong #justiceforalanyu Beloud