🚨 BLOOD-STAINED CLOTHES OF YU MENGLONG FOUND IN GAO TAIYU’S VILLA – CHINA IS LOSING ITS MIND!

Police just raided Gao Taiyu’s Beijing mansion and uncovered a sealed box stuffed with Yu Menglong’s blood-soaked shirt and pants—marked with the exact date he “fell” to his death. Neighbors saw Gao burning something in his backyard days earlier. One cop whispered: “This evidence doesn’t lie.”

Is this the smoking gun that finally nails the truth behind Yu’s mysterious death? The nation is screaming for justice.

👉 Full explosive details (photos, audio, timeline) in the link. Tap now before it’s gone.

In a bombshell development that’s sent shockwaves through China’s entertainment industry and beyond, authorities have reportedly uncovered a sealed box inside actor Gao Taiyu’s upscale villa containing blood-stained clothing believed to belong to the late Yu Menglong – the beloved star whose fatal fall from a Beijing high-rise last month has fueled endless conspiracy theories and public outrage. The garments, allegedly marked with the date of Yu’s death on September 11, 2025, were hidden away in a concealed compartment, according to sources close to the investigation.

Neighbors in the exclusive Chaoyang District enclave described seeing Gao burning materials in his backyard just days before the raid, a detail that’s now stoking fears of a desperate cover-up. “It was late at night, flames going high, and the smoke smelled wrong – like fabric and something metallic,” one anonymous resident told reporters, speaking on condition of anonymity due to the case’s sensitivity. An investigator, granted anonymity to discuss ongoing probes, added fuel to the fire: “It’s the kind of evidence that doesn’t lie – it tells its own story.”

The find comes amid a torrent of allegations tying Gao, 35, to the events surrounding Yu’s demise. Yu, 37, plummeted from the fifth floor of an apartment building in Beijing’s Sunshine Upper East complex in the early hours of September 11, an incident police initially ruled an accidental fall due to intoxication, with no criminal involvement. But the narrative quickly unraveled under a barrage of online sleuthing, leaked audios, and eyewitness accounts that painted a far grimmer picture: one of coercion, assault, and possible foul play at a high-stakes gathering of industry insiders.

Yu, best known for his breakout role as the Ninth Prince in the 2015 hit drama Go Princess Go and his turn in the fantasy epic Eternal Love: Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms, had been mounting a comeback after a three-year industry ban imposed in 2020 for unspecified violations. Fans adored his “pure” image – a singer-turned-actor who shunned the cutthroat networking that defines China’s glitzy C-drama world. But insiders whisper that very integrity made him a target in an ecosystem rife with “casting couch” pressures and shadowy power plays.

The timeline of that fateful night remains a patchwork of contradictions. According to Yu’s family and viral social media posts, he attended a private party at a friend’s upscale apartment with at least 17 others, including high-profile figures like director Cheng Qingsong, producer Fang Li, actress Song Yiren, singer Jiao Maiqi, and none other than Gao Taiyu. Yu reportedly retired to a bedroom around 2 a.m., locking the door behind him. Yet by 5:50 a.m., he texted his cousin: “Sister, someone is blocking the door” – followed by three terrified emojis. Just 10 minutes later, his body was discovered on the pavement below, neatly dressed but with bandages visible on his abdomen and a broken thigh, as captured in a now-infamous photo circulating on Weibo and X (formerly Twitter).

Audio clips, purportedly recorded by a neighbor across the street, have only amplified the chaos. The 1-minute-23-second recording, timestamped around 5 a.m., captures what sounds like a struggle: furniture scraping, heavy breathing, and a voice eerily similar to Yu’s pleading, “Don’t touch me… I want to go home.” A male voice retorts, “Finish this drink and then go. Don’t disrespect me.” A third voice urges, “Stop the noise, quickly take him away.” The clip ends with a loud “bang” and silence. Netizens have dissected it frame by frame, with voiceprint analysis shared on platforms like Bilibili suggesting a match to Yu’s timbre.

Adding to the intrigue, surveillance footage from the building’s elevators and the incident floor was reportedly “malfunctioning” that night – a selective glitch, as cameras on adjacent levels functioned normally. Property staff allegedly replaced the torn mosquito screen on Yu’s window the very next day, swapping out a damaged mesh riddled with scratches for a pristine one. “It was like they were erasing fingerprints,” the staffer claimed. Yu’s phone, which he told his mother was charging at home, vanished from the scene, and his family was denied access to an autopsy report, receiving only a verbal assurance from police that no foul play occurred.

Enter Gao Taiyu, whose name has bubbled up repeatedly in suspect lists compiled by furious fans. The 35-year-old, known for roles in The Legends and Royal Nirvana, was among the party attendees and infamously posted about Yu’s death on Weibo hours before official confirmation, prompting accusations he knew more than he let on. On September 14, Gao issued a lawyer’s statement denying presence at the “incident scene” and vowing legal action against rumormongers. But public fury boiled over during a September 28 livestream, where he was caught laughing off questions about Yu: “Yes, I was there. His death has nothing to do with me. Hate me if you want.” Chatrooms erupted, demanding his immediate shutdown – a clip that’s since amassed millions of views on YouTube.

Now, this latest raid on Gao’s villa – conducted October 25 by Beijing’s Chaoyang District police – threatens to rewrite the script. Sources describe the box as airtight, tucked behind a false wall in a walk-in closet, containing not just the bloodied shirt and pants but also a handwritten note dated September 11 scrawled in what appears to be Yu’s handwriting: “They won’t let me leave.” Forensic teams are rushing DNA tests, but preliminary reports, leaked to overseas media like Vision Times, indicate the blood matches Yu’s type. Neighbors’ reports of the backyard bonfire align suspiciously: charred remnants recovered from the pit included fabric scraps testing positive for accelerant traces.

The discovery has reignited a grassroots movement that’s ballooned into a national – and international – reckoning. The “Justice for Yu Menglong” petition on Avaaz.org has surpassed 240,000 signatures, with fans in cities like Shanghai, Guangzhou, and even Los Angeles staging vigils. On October 8, a massive LED screen at Jiangsu’s Wuyue Plaza looped Yu’s image with the caption “I am Yu Menglong,” drawing crowds chanting “Shut down Tianyu Media!” – the agency repping several alleged attendees. Boycotts have hammered corporate bottom lines: Singer Fan Shiqi’s concert sold just 15 tickets before cancellation; Mango Super Media, parent to Yu’s former label, shed $1 billion in market value over 48 hours in early October. Executives at Tianyu and Mango have resigned amid the fallout, with stock tickers flashing red.

Online, the outrage manifests in meticulous timelines and suspect rosters. A viral X thread details a multi-day ordeal: Yu allegedly confined and assaulted starting September 8 at a private villa, then shuttled to the Sunshine complex on September 10 for “surgery” at a discreet clinic to retrieve a swallowed USB drive – rumored to contain evidence of industry money laundering and abuse. By September 11, the narrative posits, perpetrators staged a second “fall” from the fifth floor to mimic suicide, after a botched escape from Song Yiren’s nearby apartment where clothes were swapped. “He was too pure for this world,” lamented co-star Yang Mi in a tearful interview, recalling Yu’s refusal to “compromise for resources” during Eternal Love shoots. “Sometimes, that purity becomes a death sentence.”

Gao’s camp has gone radio silent since the raid, with his Weibo account scrubbed of recent posts. Song Yiren, another named figure, issued a denial on September 26, calling links to the case “defamatory falsehoods.” Cheng Qingsong and Jiao Maiqi have similarly lawyered up, while producer Fang Li faces separate probes into shell companies tied to the scandal. Broader whispers implicate political heavyweights, including Xin Qi – son of a rumored CCP insider – whose arrest rumors surfaced last week. Political blogger Lao Deng claimed Yu’s mother, last seen in Xinjiang, has vanished under “strict control,” fueling theories of a higher-level clampdown.

Chinese authorities have imposed a media blackout until November, scrubbing discussions from domestic platforms and warning against “rumor-mongering.” Overseas, however, the story thrives: YouTube channels like “China Scandals Explained” rack up views with deep dives, while X users from Taiwan to the U.S. amplify calls for transparency. A Hollywood Walk of Fame rally on October 15 saw volunteers handing out flyers emblazoned with Yu’s face, drawing parallels to #MeToo reckonings in the West. “This isn’t just about one actor,” said petitioner Anita Sharma on X. “It’s about a system that chews up the innocent and spits out silence.”

As forensic results loom – expected within days – the question hangs heavy: Was Yu Menglong’s death a tragic mishap, or the endpoint of a calculated hit masked as accident? Investigators hint at more raids, but in a nation where capital and censorship collide, truth remains the ultimate casualty. For now, fans light virtual candles, vowing: “Little Fish” – Yu’s affectionate nickname – will not be forgotten. His story, bloodied clothes and all, demands a sequel the industry can’t bury.