This summer, China’s most-talked-about show didn’t center around well-to-do urbanites or a crime-ridden rust belt town, but a 45-year-old cleaning lady and her one-night stand with a much younger man.

Naturally, the younger man — a CEO and scion of a wealthy family — is instantly smitten. When he wakes up the next morning, he hands her a credit card with 20 million yuan ($2.8 million) on it. Then he takes her to meet his parents.

So far, so cheesy. But the twists keep coming in “Cleaning Mom, The Return of the Infinite.” It turns out the cleaning lady and the CEO’s dad knew each other — at one point, he had sought her hand in marriage. Soon, father and son are competing for her affections, while members of their high-society circle belittle and attack her. Finally, the cleaning lady reveals her true identity: she is a martial arts master and the richest person on the planet.

If that sounds like a lot, imagine trying to follow it in two- to three-minute bursts on one of China’s wildly popular ultrashort video platforms. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the plot went viral in China after its summer premiere, with social media users gawking at its “crazy” twists and bizarre pacing. “Just reading the blurb is affecting my mental stability,” reads one representative comment on microblogging platform Weibo.

But young, story-sensitive viewers were never the target audience of “Cleaning Mom,” which belongs to a rising genre of content: the elderly-focused ultrashort video. Fast-paced and filled with twists, ultrashorts — defined in China as any episodic program released in installments under 15 minutes in length — have become big business: In 2023, the domestic market for ultrashorts was valued at nearly 37.4 billion yuan ($5.2 billion), more than half China’s total box office.

At first, many ultrashort dramas targeted younger demographics with sudsy romances or urban fantasies. This year, however, the makers of ultrashort dramas have pivoted to older viewers — a reflection of the country’s booming online “silver economy.” According to a 2024 iResearch report on China’s ultrashort drama industry, 37.3% of ultrashort drama viewers are now aged 40 to 59. Data from QuestMobile likewise showed that in March of this year, nearly 40% of users on leading short video apps were over 45 years old, with almost half of users spending between 1,000 and 1,999 yuan each month.

To an extent, the viewing preferences of middle-aged and elderly audiences are not that different from those of young people. Both groups enjoy feel-good stories that combine revenge with getting rich and falling in love. Recent hits include: “Flash Marriage Partner is a Magnate,” “Respect the Mother,” “Nanny Marries Rich Man,” and “50-Year-Old Me Got Pregnant by a 20-Year-Old Rich Guy.” In an interview, Wu Qian, the 34-year-old star of “Flash Marriage Partner is a Magnate,” said: “People nowadays, including middle-aged and elderly people, like to watch stories about people being able to find love no matter their age.”

Of course, there are differences in the ultrashort dramas produced for older viewers and those made for younger audiences. While the stars of both rely on identity and wealth to solve problems, ultrashort dramas aimed at young people tend to focus on problems related to work and love, while those made for older people tend to deal with issues related to parent-child relationships. Whether it’s the son or the parent who is the secret high-powered businessperson, their appeal comes from the protagonist’s ability to use their huge financial resources to solve the issue of a lack of filial piety.

Take for example “The Security Guard is a Trillionaire,” which launched in July. The plot revolves around a young self-made entrepreneur named Li Bowen who bumps into his “security guard” father at a high-class event. The younger Li feels ashamed at his father’s appearance, but then comes the big reveal — his father is actually a retired business tycoon.

Like many other trends involving older people, the ultrashort fad might have flown under the radar, but the shows have become highly controversial in China, in part because of fears among young Chinese that the apps are exploiting their parents’ lack of digital literacy. Ultrashort dramas often require viewers to pay to continue watching episodes, and many children worry that their parents are spending too much on the dramas, or are being tricked into consuming because they don’t understand how the fee-deduction mechanisms of these platforms work.

Media coverage largely reflects these fears, with stories of pensioners spending thousands of yuan on their favorite shows. On social media, users have swapped tips for changing their parents’ viewing habits, such as unfollowing ultrashort drama accounts on their parents’ phones or altering their algorithms by searching for unrelated terms like “excavators” or “home appliance maintenance.”

Less talked about is how to meet the very real emotional needs underpinning the sudden rise of ultrashorts aimed at older audiences. According to data from the National Health Commission, the average life expectancy in China has risen to 78.6 years. That means most 50-year-olds can expect to live another 20 or 30 years, during which time it’s only reasonable to expect them to have hopes and dreams — of being respected, of being loved, or even of becoming wealthy. In this, the ultrashort boom reflects similar desires as the rise of popular influencers like the aunty-friendly sex symbol Xiucai. Older people are simply attempting to solve their loneliness and seek comfort online. If nothing else, that’s something younger generations should be able to understand.

Translator: David Ball; editor: Wu Haiyun.

(Header image: Visuals from VCG and Weibo, reedited by Sixth Tone)