The 15-Yuan Friend: China’s Booming Digital Intimacy Industry
In a dimly lit dorm room in Shanghai, 18-year-old Li Shuying switches on her ring light and adjusts her headset. Her phone screens light up with incoming requests: “Need gaming partner, LOL ranked match” and “Just want someone to talk to after a rough day at work.” At 8 yuan per half hour, Li’s rates are on the cheaper end of China’s vast digital companionship market. “My parents think I’m just playing games,” she says with a slight smile. “They don’t understand I’m running a business.”
The Menu of Modern Companionship
On Xiaohongshu and Douyin, China’s most popular social platforms, digital companions advertise their services with remarkable consistency. Basic chatting starts at 15 yuan ($2) per half hour. Want someone to play Honor of Kings with you? That’s 20 yuan. A virtual dinner companion while you eat alone? 25 yuan. “Think of us as professional friends,” says Wang, a 24-year-old who left his office job to become a full-time digital companion. “We remember our clients’ stories, their pets’ names, their work struggles. It’s emotional labor, but it’s also real connection.”
Beyond Simple Chat
The industry has spawned specialized niches. Some companions offer wake-up calls with personalized pep talks. Others provide lullaby services, singing clients to sleep. On Taobao, China’s largest e-commerce platform, stores boasting 80,000+ orders sell packages of daily good morning texts and evening check-ins.
A client named Zhang, a 28-year-old IT worker, explains why he spends about 400 yuan monthly on these services: “In my hometown, friends meet for dinner every night. In Shanghai, everyone’s too busy. These digital friends are always available, even at 3 AM.”
The AI Companion Boom
Tech giants have noticed this hunger for connection. Microsoft spin-off Xiaoice has created 17 million AI “girlfriends” and “boyfriends.” ByteDance’s Maoxiang app lets users customize their virtual companion’s personality. Baidu’s AI companions, Lin Kaikai and Ye Youyou, offer increasingly sophisticated conversations.
“But AI can’t replace human intuition,” argues Li, who maintains a five-star rating on her platform. “Last week, I sensed one of my regulars was particularly down. He finally opened up about losing his job. An AI might offer sympathy, but I could share my brother’s similar experience and the companies currently hiring.”
The Economics of Loneliness
For providers like Li, volume is key. On a busy night, she might juggle four to five chats simultaneously, earning 200–300 yuan. The real money comes from regular clients — some spend up to 1,000 yuan monthly on their favorite companions.
“Love and Deepspace,” a romance game launched in January 2024, generated 500 million yuan in its first month, demonstrating the massive market for digital connection. But many prefer human interaction, even at a premium.
The Dark Side
Platforms struggle with maintaining boundaries. Xianyu has banned companionship listings entirely due to concerns about illegal activities. Some clients develop unhealthy attachments, spending over half their income on digital companions.
“We’re not therapists or romantic partners,” Li emphasizes. “I’ve had to terminate services with clients who couldn’t maintain professional boundaries.” Her platform requires all companions to complete training on handling emotional situations and maintaining personal safety.
A Reflection of Modern China
The rise of this industry reveals deeper social shifts. Marriage rates have halved over the past decade. Urban migration has scattered families. The one-child policy created a generation unfamiliar with close sibling relationships.
A sociology professor at Fudan University notes: “This isn’t just about loneliness. It’s about the commodification of basic human connection in a society where traditional relationships have become logistically difficult to maintain.”
The Future of Friendship
As Li prepares for another night of paid companionship, she reflects on her role: “Sometimes I think about how my generation will tell our children about friendship. Will they understand a world where friends were free? Or will this just be normal?”
She pauses as another request pops up: “Need someone to celebrate with — just got a promotion!” Li switches on her camera, puts on a bright smile, and types: “Congratulations! Tell me all about it.”
In modern China, connection comes with a price tag. For millions of young Chinese, it’s a price they’re increasingly willing to pay.
