China’s Earliest Missing Person Website Shut Down Amid Livestreaming Influencer Controversy

One of China’s earliest missing persons websites, “China寻亲网” (China Seeking Relatives Network), has shuttered its virtual doors.

Founded back in 2000, the site amassed a database of over 57,055 missing persons reports from across the country.

Its initial operational model was straightforward – a digital equivalent of community notice boards.

Users uploaded photos, names, and last known locations, with the information appearing chronologically on the homepage. Successful reunions were announced via posts, prompting administrators to remove the original listing.

This entirely free, public-service website, didn’t quite make it to its 25th anniversary, abruptly announcing its cessation of operations without prior warning.

While the closure of a 25-year-old website might seem unremarkable, the shutdown of China寻亲网 sparked considerable online discontent and debate.

Many users argued that the website was forced to close due to pressure from individuals profiting from the search for relatives, and they directed accusations toward prominent “寻亲” (seeking relatives) Key Opinion Leaders (KOLs).

Even the website’s administrator expressed surprise at the reaction, initially viewing the closure as a routine consequence of dwindling business activity.

The administrator said the company didn’t have enough new business so it shutdown.

In our increasingly connected world, technological evolution is inevitable. So, why did the demise of this particular missing persons website elicit such a strong response?

To understand the furor, we need to rewind a bit.

In the pre-digital era, finding missing persons relied on word-of-mouth and the ubiquitous missing person posters plastered across public spaces.

The late 1990s and early 2000s witnessed the rise of internet portals. Suddenly, individuals realized they could broadcast their search not just on local lampposts, but to potentially millions online.

This led to the emergence of websites like “宝贝回家” (Baby Come Home), China寻亲网, and “寻人网” (Seeking People Network).

宝贝回家 proved to be one of the more successful ventures, recruiting volunteers (380,000 registered as of 2022) and facilitating the reunion of 8,567 families, including the recovery of 4,312 abducted or lost children.

However, the national spotlight truly illuminated the issue of missing persons with the 2014 launch of the CCTV program “等着我” (Waiting for Me). The reality show, a tearjerker for parents across the country, achieved remarkable success.

The show facilitated efficent efforts between CCTV and the Ministry of Public Security, the program helped 1,100 families locate loved ones, reuniting an estimated 10,000 individuals in just three years.

Following this success, provincial-level networks such as Anhui TV, Hunan Urban Channel, and Guangdong Television launched similar formats.

Thus, the era of missing persons websites transitioned into the age of the prime-time reality show.

The rise of these reality programs somewhat diminished the influence of the original websites. Now, in the age of social media, short-form video platforms reign supreme.

Within the endless feeds of social media apps, one is highly likely to encounter eye-catching missing person notices or videos splashed with vibrant red and white text.

The sheer volume and ease of dissemination on these platforms mean that each face can potentially gain thousands, even hundreds of thousands, of views.

Online users are quick to engage, pooling their collective knowledge in the comments sections.

Yang Niuhua, who successfully brought human trafficker Yu Huaying to justice in February, registered her missing person information on a website as early as 2013.

In the end, it was a video posted on Douyin (TikTok’s Chinese counterpart) eight years later that led to her reunion with her cousin.

Compared to these massive traffic behemoths, the operational efficiency of the older websites pales in comparison.

China寻亲网 published over 50,000 listings in 25 years, leading to only 768 successful reunions. This makes the closure of China寻亲网 a logical, if somewhat belated, step.

Conversely, social media-driven searches offer higher efficiency, broader reach, lower barriers to entry, and – a often overlooked benefit – the potential to become an influencer and monetize your search.

The initial phase of the social media-driven missing person phenomenon spawned a class of online superstars.

Unlike the average poster, individuals with particularly poignant stories or dramatic searches rose to prominence, becoming recognizable KOLs within this niche.

For example, they often cultivate an “image” of perfection.

Wealthy fathers, depressed mothers, struggling older siblings, unemployed younger sisters, devoted girlfriends, and simple grandfathers – just trying to make someone his own.

Furthermore, they tend to be well-coached.

Imagine encountering a heartwarming video of a father and son reuniting after 20 years. Curious, you search the son’s name to learn more.

You then discover that practically every member of the family – father, mother, sister, grandfather – has their own account. How did one missing person lead to an entire family of influencers?

This isn’t an isolated case. Many KOLs in the missing persons space have even created multiple “lifestyle” and “product selection” accounts, mirroring the structure of established online personalities.

Users now often makes fun of the name the KOL gives family members.

Upon closer inspection, these KOLs are often associated with studios or e-commerce companies.

Even if an individual’s profile shows no affiliation, the quality of the content and professional equipment suggest the hand of experienced teams.

Sharing the tale of loss and the jubilation of reunion seemed acceptable to onlookers, until it became commercialized.

With captivating backstories, they draw in the masses who have empathy for all that happened.

Even those individuals who express that they don’t want people to shop out of emotion, are still supported.

And so, it’s the tragic stories surrounding the family that help drive sales to heights that even professionals in the market could dream of.

Xie Haonan, “Wanted Son” live-streamed and made over 100 million yuan with 520,000 fans.

Xie Qingshuai had up to 20 million people stop by and watch his shows, bringing in up to 25 -50 million yuan.

Yang Niuhua as well, has made up to 10 million yuan from these live stream ventures.

Watching these numbers get higher and higher, things start to seem a bit off.

There are trained people making money off of these platforms, why is it these KOLs who are getting numbers and sales?

It’s an exchange between the viewers and the streamer; a compact for entertainment and goods.

The live streams are mini-reality shows that give the viewers something they long to see.

The viewers at home love to see the family back together.

There viewers find entertainment in how individuals adjust to old and new families, and how the individuals handle human nature as things grow and the money comes in.

The KOLs give the content they want to see: reunions, sadness, fights.

Lei Gong Lei Wuze has wanted to create a reunion to heat things up for fans.

In an interview, he said he wanted to have a reunion for publicity. Although, after he and his son got in a dispute they have disconnected.

Lei Gong then started an e-commerce company called “Lei Gong Dian Mu” with the hashtag #seeking family.

The lines are blurred between what is true and what is performance; creating tons of social media noise over time.

Fake stories and scam artists get mixed in, making it harder to trust what is real.

Parents looking for missing children don’t know how to capture an audience.

Countless studios just churn out stories that are designed to push emotional feelings.

It’s organized for people in every way possible.

There are people that use “seeking” children posts to create traffic to other content, and even products.

People are starting to realize this is a whole chain.

The KOLs aren’t looking for family, they’re looking for “customers”.

In the end, there is good and bad to this trend.

There are people that have real stories that are chosen by fate.

Can there be compensation in these stories?

Searching for many years cuts into many years of productivity and earning.

Movie “Dearest” was inspired by Sun Haiyang. He gave up restaraunts and worked with friends to make ends meet.

He had to travel to places to investigate. In 14 years, Sun Haiyang spent upwards of 2 million yuan. Lei Gong says he spent over 1 million to do similar things.

Even after children are found there still may not be revenue or stable income.

Those that are public figures will have some kind of revenue as well put into helping lost children find their way back home like Sun Haiyang.

Many want to support the KOL, because the money would better be spent with common people instead of celebrities.

Many KOLs rely on the attention and trust from the public to make a living.

Trust can run out though.

Fake or bad goods on live-streams ruins trust and the name of the game.

The internet is wary to believe stories, because of the growing performance side to the content.

Seeking loved ones is highly dependent on exposure.

People used to spend over 10,000 to buy ads across cities so that more people could see posters.

How does this affect this now with KOLs?

KOLs can turn a profit but those that haven’t been able to get there, are out of look.

These avenues are closing.

Algorithms create scripts, there is performance, and tears getting a price. The shine and glamour of the live steam may not get to the road back home.