He bought it. He ate it. And now, the internet’s exploding—did this ‘fame addict’ just confess to devouring a star’s remains, or is it the sickest troll in history?

In a post that’s already racking up millions of views, one twisted user claims he shelled out dark web cash for actor Yu Menglong’s flesh—taunting fans of the late Eternal Love heartthrob with graphic details that hit way too close to the bone. But whispers say this “confession” hides a bombshell: proof of the torture that really took his life? Chills.

What if the real horror is just starting? Dive deeper into the shadows of this scandal—click the link below before it’s scrubbed. Your thoughts?

A self-proclaimed “fame addict” has unleashed a firestorm of outrage across social media platforms, boasting in a now-viral post that he “bought and eaten” the flesh of Chinese actor Yu Menglong – a grotesque claim that’s not only horrified fans but also reignited explosive conspiracy theories surrounding the star’s mysterious death nearly two months ago. The disturbing allegation, posted on an obscure online forum and quickly amplified on X and Weibo before partial censorship, has drawn accusations of everything from elaborate hoax to a deliberate ploy to mock grieving supporters. But as netizens dig deeper, questions swirl: Is this twisted taunt masking evidence of the brutal torture many believe led to Yu’s demise, or just another dark chapter in China’s entertainment underworld?

Yu Menglong, the 37-year-old heartthrob best known for his roles in hit dramas like Eternal Love (2017) and Go Princess Go (2015), plummeted to his death from the fifth floor of a Beijing apartment building on September 11, 2025. Official reports from Beijing police swiftly ruled it an accident, attributing the fall to intoxication during a private gathering at a friend’s residence. The actor’s management studio echoed the narrative in a somber Weibo announcement that evening, confirming the tragedy and urging fans to “cherish memories rationally.” Yu’s mother followed suit days later with a heartfelt statement, describing her “immense grief” and pleading for an end to speculation, insisting the incident was a tragic mishap after her son had been drinking. “I hope Menglong is at peace in heaven now,” she wrote, a line that resonated deeply with his 20 million-plus followers.

Yet, from the moment news broke, the official story clashed with a torrent of online skepticism. Eyewitness accounts and leaked audio surfaced almost immediately, painting a far grimmer picture. Neighbors in the Sunshine Upper East residential complex reported hearing cries of distress around 5 a.m. that fateful morning – pleas like “Don’t touch me” and “I want to go home” echoing from the apartment above, followed by the thud of furniture and a chilling silence. One resident, speaking anonymously to local media, described seeing two shadowy figures struggling near a window, the mosquito screen torn as if forced open from the inside – or pushed from behind. By 5:30 a.m., a dog walker discovered Yu’s body on the grass below, blood pooling from his mouth, his limbs twisted unnaturally. Initial reports noted he was neatly dressed, not disheveled as one might expect from a drunken stumble.

The doubts escalated when Yu’s cousin came forward with a timeline that contradicted the police narrative. At 3:12 a.m., she claimed, Yu had called her sounding “completely sober,” complaining of pressure to drink Western liquor at the gathering and promising to call a driver home. Just 10 minutes before his body was found, he texted her: “Sister, someone is blocking the door,” accompanied by three terrified emojis. His phone, which he told his mother was charging at home, vanished from the scene – a detail police dismissed but that fueled cover-up whispers. “He wasn’t drunk; he was trapped,” the cousin alleged in a now-deleted Weibo post, which garnered thousands of shares before platform moderators intervened.

As the story spread beyond China’s Great Firewall, international outlets picked up on the anomalies. A Foreign Policy investigation highlighted how censors scrubbed over 100,000 posts related to Yu’s death by late September, suspending more than 1,000 accounts in a Weibo crackdown. This heavy-handed response, far from quelling rumors, amplified them. Netizens unearthed a cryptic “prediction” from August 2025 on underground forums, foretelling trouble for an actor matching Yu’s profile – a star from Eternal Love with 20 million fans. Was it coincidence, or a leaked warning?

Theories soon veered into the macabre. Leaked autopsy details, shared widely on Reddit and X despite authenticity debates, described Yu’s body as riddled with signs of prolonged abuse: broken teeth, genital tearing consistent with sexual assault, lacerated organs, and deep stab wounds to the abdomen. Forensic experts consulted by Singapore media outlets noted these injuries didn’t align with a simple fall – they suggested days of torture, possibly involving injections and restraints. One viral X post claimed Yu had swallowed a USB drive containing evidence of industry money laundering, forcing assailants to slice open his stomach during a hasty operation at a private clinic. Photos purportedly from the scene showed bandages peeking from under his shirt and rigor mortis in his broken thighs, with his face allegedly smashed post-mortem to obscure identification.

Enter the “17 celebrities” angle, a bombshell that turned Yu’s death into a full-blown scandal. Online sleuths accused a roster of A-list names – including actors, directors, and even an art curator from a controversial torture exhibit Yu visited days prior – of luring him to a villa party on September 8. Dark web footage, allegedly purchased for $100,000 by a YouTuber named Li Muyang, depicted Yu and his two beloved dogs enduring “severe abuse” – though Li clarified it stopped short of disembowelment or cannibalism. The clip, submitted anonymously to the FBI, showed Yu being thrown repeatedly from balconies, surviving the first drop only to be dragged back inside. His dogs? Vanished without trace, adding to suspicions of a ritualistic cover-up.

Podcasts like Rotten Mango dove headfirst into the fray, dedicating episodes to the “secret party” theory. Host Stephanie Soo detailed how ten other talents from Yu’s agency had died under “suspicious circumstances” in recent years, linking it to broader industry woes: forced contracts, substance coercion, and elite exploitation. A resurfaced text from Yu to his mother, dated just before the fall, read: “That money isn’t earned by me – it’s dirty,” hinting at blackmail or laundering ties. Fans pointed fingers at actress Fan Shiqi, whose verified Weibo briefly posted – then deleted – “Yes, I killed Yu Menglong because he deserved it,” sparking her own backlash.

Yu’s mother, initially cooperative with authorities, vanished en route to Beijing for funeral prep, fueling claims of suppression by “powerful forces.” Her last public words contradicted earlier statements, alleging “deliberate harm” and a hasty cremation to destroy evidence. The body, relatives said, showed “signs of torture” – r*ped, injected with substances, and mutilated. By October, AI-generated videos falsely depicting anti-government protests in Yu’s name had to be debunked by fact-checkers, as the #JusticeForYuMenglong hashtag exploded with over 57,000 TikTok uses and U.S. rallies demanding transparency.

Into this cauldron of grief and fury drops the “fame addict.” On October 30, 2025, user @DarkFameHunter – a self-described thrill-seeker with a history of provocative stunts – posted on a fringe forum: “Bought Yu Menglong’s flesh from the dark web. Tastes like regret and broken dreams. Fans, come get a bite? #FameFeast.” Accompanied by blurred images of what appeared to be raw meat and a timestamped receipt for $50,000 in crypto, the claim exploded on X, amassing 2 million views in hours. “This isn’t just sick – it’s a taunt,” one fan tweeted, linking it to the torture video rumors. Others speculated the poster was an insider, using cannibalism bait to distract from the USB evidence or the missing dogs.

Chinese authorities have remained tight-lipped, with three individuals already detained for “spreading rumors” about the case as early as September 21. Weibo’s purge continued into November, but global platforms like X and Reddit kept the flame alive. “If Yu can be silenced, who can’t?” one anonymous user posted, capturing the existential dread rippling through the diaspora. Entertainment insiders, speaking off-record to Times of India reporters, whispered of a “rotten core” in China’s C-drama world – exploitative agencies, hidden parties, and debts that turn stars into pawns.

Yu’s career trajectory adds tragic irony. Born June 15, 1988, in Xinjiang, he rose from talent shows like Happy Boys to stardom, embodying the ethereal prince in Eternal Love – a role that typecast him as the unattainable ideal. Off-screen, he was soft-spoken, animal-loving, and outspoken about mental health, once envying fans’ simple joys like eating lamb skewers – a detail from a 2023 livestream that now haunts in hindsight. His final project, the period drama Hidden Master (April 2025), ironically explored themes of deception and hidden truths.

As of November 5, the “fame addict” post remains online in screenshot form, with calls mounting for FBI involvement in the dark web angle. Yu’s fans, undeterred by censorship, continue vigils worldwide – white shirts and blue pants (his alleged final outfit) as symbols of resistance. Whether hoax or horror, the claim underscores a deeper malaise: In an industry devouring its own, how many more “accidents” before the veil lifts?

Beijing police have reiterated no foul play, but with Yu’s mother still missing and autopsy files “leaked” anew weekly, the public appetite for truth grows insatiable. One X user summed it up: “He was a hero who swallowed secrets to the end.” In the echo chamber of suppressed grief, that heroism – real or imagined – endures.