🚨 LAST WORDS FROM THE DARK: “Help me…” 😱
The only waiter who survived Yu Menglong’s final party just whispered what he saw in those last 60 seconds…
Needles. Knives. A swallowed USB. Blood on marble.
And one star screaming: “They’re playing me to death!”
Beijing wants this buried. Click before it vanishes. 👇
In a revelation that’s ripping through China’s censored digital underbelly like wildfire, the lone surviving waiter from actor Yu Menglong’s fateful final party has come forward with a harrowing eyewitness account of the 37-year-old star’s last moments. Describing a scene straight out of a psychological thriller – complete with forced injections, ritualistic violence, and desperate pleas for mercy – the waiter’s testimony has reignited global outrage over what many now call a brazen elite cover-up, potentially linked to the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) shadowy undercurrents of corruption and organ trafficking.
The waiter, speaking exclusively to overseas outlets under the pseudonym “Li Wei” to evade Beijing’s crackdown, claims he was hired last-minute for a high-society soiree at a luxury Sunshine Upper East penthouse on September 10, 2025. What started as a glamorous gathering of 17 entertainment insiders – including rumored attendees like billionaire widow Tian Hai Rong, predatory director “Chang,” and rising stars Fan Shiqi and Song Yiren – devolved into a night of calculated horror targeting Menglong, the soft-spoken lead from hits like Eternal Love and All Out of Love.
“I thought it was just another VIP bash,” Li Wei, a 28-year-old migrant from rural Henan, told reporters via encrypted video from an undisclosed location in Southeast Asia. “Champagne flutes, caviar trays, laughter echoing off marble walls. But by midnight, the vibe shifted. Yu – he was the guest of honor, they said – looked trapped. Pale, sweating, glancing at the door like a caged animal.”
According to Li Wei, Menglong arrived around 10 p.m., fresh off a grueling CCTV Mid-Autumn Festival rehearsal where he’d charmed millions with his boyish grin. Fans later pored over a resurfaced livestream clip, now chilling in hindsight: Menglong, mic in hand, mutters “Save me” twice in a whisper, his eyes darting off-camera. At the time, viewers chalked it up to rehearsal jitters; today, it’s Exhibit A in a petition demanding international scrutiny that’s garnered over 500,000 signatures worldwide.
The party’s host, allegedly actress Song Yiren’s affluent aunt, had assembled a who’s-who of China’s glitzy underbelly. Netizens and podcasters like Stephanie Soo of Rotten Mango have named up to 17 suspects, painting a web of influence peddlers: Tian Hai Rong, the widowed tycooness accused of bankrolling young talents’ “debts” through coercive “arrangements”; Director Chang, a veteran filmmaker with a history of harassment allegations; and Fan Shiqi, Menglong’s supposed “best friend” who, per leaked videos, allegedly dragged a battered Menglong back from a parking lot escape attempt just hours before the fall.
Li Wei’s shift began routinely: circulating trays of Rémy Martin XO and platters of wagyu sliders. But around 1 a.m., as the group migrated to a dimly lit “private lounge,” things turned sinister. “They handed me a black velvet bag – syringes, vials of clear liquid, no labels,” he recounted, voice trembling. “Told me to ‘serve the special cocktail’ to Yu only. He begged, ‘No, please – I have filming tomorrow.’ But they pinned his arms. One prick in the neck, another in the arm. His eyes went wide, like he’d been hit by lightning.”
What followed, Li Wei says, was a blur of depravity that shattered his worldview. Menglong, injected with what he suspects was a sedative cocktail – toxicology later rumored to show triple the lethal alcohol limit plus unidentified narcotics – was subjected to what insiders call “the initiation.” Whispers of a “casting couch” ritual, long plaguing China’s entertainment scene, bubbled up: forced humiliations, captured on hidden cameras for leverage. “Naked bodies everywhere, but not in fun – it was control,” Li Wei whispered. “Yu fought back, screaming, ‘I trusted you, Fan! Why?’ They laughed it off as a game.”
By 3 a.m., Menglong’s resistance cracked. Phone records, leaked to overseas media, show a frantic 3:12 a.m. call to his cousin: “They’re making me drink… I need a ride home.” Ten minutes later, a text: “Sister, someone’s blocking the door” – appended with three skull emojis. Li Wei, tasked with “cleaning up,” overheard the scuffle: furniture crashing, a male voice (possibly Director Chang’s) snarling, “Finish the drink, don’t disrespect us.” A neighbor’s peephole audio, circulating on X (formerly Twitter), corroborates: Menglong’s voice, slurred but desperate – “Don’t touch me! I want to go home!” – followed by a thud and heavy breathing.
The waiter’s most gut-wrenching memory? The “extraction.” Around 4:30 a.m., as Menglong convulsed on the floor, the group allegedly turned violent. “They said he ‘swallowed something valuable’ – a USB drive, whispers went, packed with evidence of elite pedophile rings and CCP-tied money laundering,” Li Wei claimed. “Two men held him down; another pulled a knife. They sliced his abdomen – shallow at first, then deeper. Blood everywhere. He gurgled, ‘Mom… the money’s dirty… I can’t anymore.'” This aligns with autopsy leaks: three stab wounds to the chest from hypodermic needles, a bandaged abdominal gash, and missing teeth – yanked out, per X posts, to silence screams.
Menglong’s final text to his mother, resurfaced last month, adds fuel: “Every time I see the money they transfer, I vomit. It’s not mine – it’s dirty. They’re using me… trapping me in this dark apartment. No escape.” The “money” referenced? Hush payments from Tianyu Media, Menglong’s agency, which dissolved suspiciously on July 17 – just two months prior – amid rumors of eight other “emerging stars” dying under its watch in the last two decades, all ruled suicides or accidents.
As dawn broke on September 11, Li Wei says the panic set in. Menglong, barely coherent, bolted for the balcony in a drug-fueled haze. “He clawed at the mosquito screen – it was latched tight, not something you just ‘fall’ through drunk,” the waiter insisted. A silhouette video, allegedly from a neighboring drone, captures the horror: a struggling figure at the window, Menglong’s anguished wail – “I’ve never suffered like this… you’re playing me to death!” – before tumbling 17 stories to the courtyard below.