New trend in Beijing: 'virtual parents' who give love and comfort to young Chinese

Beijing"We are proud of you"; "don't try so hard", are affectionate messages that many young people want to hear and find as a substitute in the mouths of virtual parents in internet videos. It is quite a contrast to the cold demands of real Chinese families. 

Zhao complains that her father constantly tells her she is old, despite her just-turned 29 years. He considers that, despite having a good job, remaining single makes her a failure. Her parents constantly pressure her to get married and have children with the argument that they can look after them now, as they will be too old later. In China, it is the grandparents, who retire between the ages of 50 and 60, who are almost exclusively responsible for looking after grandchildren. 

Zhao's relationship with her parents is ambivalent: she recognizes that they sacrificed for her to go to university, but she misses that they never hugged her or praised her when she was a child or adolescent. Now, moreover, she feels the pressure of being an only child and, therefore, the sole responsible for looking after them and satisfying their expectations.

Family relationships are often a minefield in regulated Chinese society. Many expectations and demands are placed on only children to succeed after the family effort invested in them. Furthermore, the Confucian tradition of filial duty weighs heavily, which often prevents young people from developing their life projects. The pressure for them to have a suitable job and get married is enormous.

Suffocated by family traditions

In parallel, the generational gap is widening and many young people feel suffocated by family traditions, which they feel are increasingly distant. Social networks are a refuge and videos are successful where supposed parents send affectionate messages to their children, far from family interrogations about their salary or if they have a suitable boyfriend or girlfriend, and, above all, demanding obedience.

Among the most successful are the broadcasts by Pan Huqian and Zhang Xiuping, which have gone viral for years on Douyin (the Chinese TikTok). The middle-aged couple speaks directly to the camera as if they were talking to their daughter, simulating a family life full of affection. They ask if she is happy, if she is tired of working so many hours; they ask her to take care of herself, not to be so demanding, and above all, they often tell her that they love her and are proud of her. These are messages at the opposite extreme of the usual pressures from Chinese parents and the demand for more effort.

Pan and Zhang's account, "Sharing everyday moments with our daughter," is not the only one of its kind, but it has the most followers, close to two million registered. The videos recreate everyday situations: they buy gifts for their daughter, congratulate her on her birthday, pick her up from work, cook her favorite dishes, pay her unexpected visits because she theoretically lives in another city. Viewers interact with them and even ask for videos with special themes. Many address them by the appellation of father and mother. The account emerged in 2024 and continues to be so successful that numerous influencers have joined in producing this type of content, not only for Douyin, but also for the successful social network Xiaohongshu (little red book).

Generation Z or millennials are increasingly rejecting rigid family relationships, demanding more empathy, respect for their decisions, and emotional support. The pressure on women is more intense due to the atavistic preference for men and motherhood.

The "left-behind" children

Jingxuan returned this spring to her position as manager at a modern cafe in the capital. She had spent the last year in her hometown, in Shaanxi province, taking care of her eleven-year-old twins and her five-year-old son, as her grandmother fell ill. It has been an interval in her child-rearing, as she barely sees them, only once a year during the holidays of theChinese New Year. He works from 9 in the morning to 9 at night and has three days off per month. The salary, around 700 euros, is what allows children and grandparents to live well in the village, in exchange for practically no personal contact with them.

The children of migrants from the countryside to the city are known in China as "left-behind children," as they are raised by their grandparents and their parents become virtual strangers they barely know. This situation causes estrangement between parents and children and toxic dependency relationships; the parents are the economic support, but not the emotional one.

This phenomenon also occurs in the middle class if the parents' work is demanding. Zhu feels trapped by a family environment that tries to control her life. She complains that as a child she went eight years without seeing her parents, who were officials in the Ministry of Commerce and had postings outside of China. Her grandmother raised her, with whom she maintains an emotional bond. Now, she says her parents are demanding that she prepare to take care of them. She works for an international organization and they have pressured her to reject a job in Brussels. They have also helped her buy a 180-square-meter apartment in Beijing where they want the three of them to go and live. She complains that they never took care of her when she was a child.