Chinese Youth Find Comfort in 'Virtual Parents' Online

During meal times, Vincent Zhang, a technology worker in Shanghai, has a specific habit. He pulls out his phone to check on his "virtual parents." These are not his biological relatives but a middle-aged couple on the internet. They offer an endless stream of warm and encouraging words to their imaginary child.

In one of their most popular video clips, the couple speaks gently to the camera. They ask, "Are you tired from work and study lately? Don't push yourself too hard. Mum and Dad know that you have endured a lot." In the comment section, many followers call the couple by these familial terms. They share details about their own lives and ask for birthday blessings. This digital connection provides a sense of belonging that many young people crave.

Pan Huqian and Zhang Xiuping have nearly two million followers on Douyin, which is China's version of TikTok. They belong to a niche group of content creators known as "virtual parents." Their popularity has exploded rapidly. They draw young Chinese followers who feel squeezed between the pressure to succeed professionally and the high expectations of their families.

"My parents are never the ones who tell me not to drive myself too hard or that I am already good enough," says Vincent, who is 33 years old. "But virtual parents will ask me whether I am happy today." This distinction is crucial for many young adults who feel their real parents focus only on achievement rather than well-being.

Pan, the male vlogger in the couple, says he has felt the impact his videos have on viewers. In an interview with Douyin in 2024, he explained that he understood their pain because he had a difficult childhood himself. At the age of 14, he left home to become the breadwinner for his family. This happened after his mother became paralyzed. Pan states that he was away from home for 33 years, and his parents never offered a single word of encouragement during that time.

After his daughter was born, Pan was determined to create a different family atmosphere. He made a promise to always tell her that he loved her. His daughter regularly appears in the couple's videos, showcasing the loving environment they wished they had. This personal history resonates deeply with viewers like Vincent.

Vincent, a web developer based in Shanghai, finds his weekly phone calls with his actual parents stressful. The conversations often turn into critiques of his life choices. His parents frequently criticize his career, arguing that a government job would be more stable. They also press him to bring a girlfriend home. Vincent explains that from the moment the phone call begins, every action and choice he has made seems wrong to them. He feels these decisions require immediate correction by his parents.

The disconnect between generations is not unique to Vincent. Many young people in China feel that their parents do not understand their modern struggles. The grandparents of this youth generation lived through grueling crises, including the famine in the 1950s and the violent political purges of the Cultural Revolution in the 1960s. Their parents grew up in a country that was still emerging from those shadows as it opened up to the global economy.

Zhao’s generation, however, enjoyed stability, prosperity, and a far better standard of living. Yet, the social landscape has changed dramatically. China has become much more competitive. In recent years, especially after the pandemic, young people have been hit hard by a sluggish Chinese economy. Unemployment rates among young people have hovered at more than 15% for several years. This trend has worried the government, despite efforts to downplay the severity of the issue.

More young people now talk about feeling burnt out. They question the point of staying in the "rat race." Some feel bruised by their parents' tough love, which they perceive as unsupportive. The situation is so tense that some state media outlets have tried to steer online discussions toward traditional concepts of filial piety. They urge young people to be more understanding of their parents' intentions. But Vincent remains unconvinced. "I can understand my parents' difficulties, but I have my own generational trauma too," he says.

There seems to be a wave of reckoning among young people in China regarding parenting. This is a subject that can be just as emotive anywhere else in the world. Online discussions range from frustration with controlling parents to exhaustion from the pressure to excel academically. Many feel burdened by the need to heed advice in the name of "filial piety," even when that advice feels outdated or unhelpful.

For many young people, online skits capture a familiar dynamic. These videos often show parents ignoring their children's wishes while claiming to do things for their own good. This resonates with Zhao Xuan, a 28-year-old who tells the BBC that her parents dispensed so much emotional pressure that she has muted her family group chat. She refers to their constant nagging as "gourd soup literature," a metaphor for sweet-sounding but hollow advice.

In the past, Zhao would lament to her friends while trying to understand her parents' behavior. Now, she turns to memes because the humor helps her cope. "I did go to a therapist, but I gradually realized that crying wouldn't solve the problem," Zhao says. "My mom wouldn't change, so I could only change my own mindset, which is to treat them with the same attitude, as if it was a joke." This defensive humor allows her to maintain her mental health without changing her parents.

For Vincent, his "virtual parents" remind him of a more uncomplicated time. He recalls a recent video by Pan and Zhang about a simple trip to a supermarket. Vincent says, "I really miss the days when I was little and would go grocery shopping with my parents ahead of the Spring Festival." He notes that they have not had such a conversation, free from social pressure, for a long time. This nostalgia highlights the void that virtual parents fill in his life.

Vincent is aware that his comfort comes from a commercially successful industry. He realizes that because the content has become so popular, it is also profitable. "I know these vloggers are probably mass-producing now and are probably signed with companies," he says. He understands that it is far easier to console virtual children and dispense advice than to deal with real-world complexities. The creators face no personal risk and can tailor their responses perfectly.

Despite knowing the commercial nature of these interactions, Vincent finds genuine comfort in the trend. He acknowledges the artificiality of the relationship but values the emotional support it provides. "I believe that a little bit of warmth is better than nothing," he concludes. This sentiment reflects a broader shift in how Chinese youth navigate loneliness and parental pressure in a rapidly changing society.

The rise of virtual parents is not just about entertainment. It is a response to a deep social need. Young people are seeking validation and unconditional love in a world that often feels conditional and demanding. While these digital relationships cannot replace biological families, they offer a temporary sanctuary. For many, this is enough to survive the pressures of modern life.

The phenomenon also highlights the limitations of traditional family structures in addressing modern psychological needs. Parents who grew up in times of scarcity may struggle to provide emotional validation in times of abundance and competition. Their children, raised with different values and pressures, may find their efforts misunderstood. This generational gap creates a vacuum that virtual communities are now filling.

As the economy continues to face challenges, the demand for such emotional support is likely to grow. Virtual parents may become an even more prominent part of digital culture. For now, figures like Pan and Zhang provide a vital service. They offer a mirror for young people to see themselves as worthy of love, regardless of their achievements. In a competitive world, this simple affirmation is a powerful antidote to loneliness.