Web Novelist Faked Her Own Death for Three Years, Then Resurrected
In August 2023, a farewell notice on the Chinese web novel platform Fanqie (Tomato) Novel stunned the online fiction community. Romance author Wen Daidai, who was serializing the title Spring Conceals Joy, appeared to have passed away suddenly. Her account published a chapter titled ‘Good Night,’ written in the voice of her boyfriend, announcing she had died of a sudden heart condition and leaving a ‘final wish’ for someone to finish her unfinished story. The line ‘You gave everyone a beautiful ending, except me’ moved readers to tears, and the news spread rapidly across the internet as marketing accounts amplified the tragedy.
The chapter instantly ignited the web fiction world. Readers flooded the book’s comment section with condolences, and some even sent donations to comfort the ‘bereaved family.’ The previously average-performing novel saw its traffic and tips climb steadily, and Chapter 64 became known as ‘Chapter 64’s Good Night.’ For nearly three years afterward, the account remained completely silent — a silence that only deepened readers’ belief that the tragedy was real, with many assuming the author had been lost in the summer of 2023. Even during that long pause, old readers continued to visit the page and leave well-wishes.
Then, in August 2026, the dormant account suddenly came back online, delivering the ultimate twist. Wen Daidai personally posted a statement denying every claim made in Chapter 64. She acknowledged struggling with her mental state while writing, saying she had once had thoughts of ending her life but ultimately ‘survived.’ The boyfriend, the heart-disease death, and the final wish were all lies she fabricated herself. The reversal ignited reader fury. Critics pointed out that she offered no sincere apology and made no mention of returning the donations, instead attributing everything to her ‘poor mental state at the time’ while avoiding questions about the death persona she built and the revenue she earned.
The report notes that this is far from an isolated case. ‘Selling misery’ has long been a shortcut in Chinese online content — from talent-show contestants exaggerating their hardships to authors crafting tragic personas — all converting public sympathy into traffic and revenue. It also raises questions about platform oversight, noting that Wen Daidai thanked the platform for its ‘humanistic care’ upon her return, exposing weak post-hoc regulation. In the end, the piece argues, fabricated tragedy undermines trust: readers who paid with their hearts and wallets only learned that their compassion had been monetized. A cynical chapter in web fiction, and a cautionary tale about treating sincerity as disposable fuel for clicks.
