Livestreaming in China has long been advertised as a low-effort, high-reward route to overnight fame.
With ring lights, filters, and millions of potential viewers on apps like Douyin and Kuaishou, the industry presents itself as a glittering opportunity, especially for young women seeking flexible income. But the realities emerging from research, court cases, and testimonies paint a notably less glamorous picture.
At the centre of this ecosystem are MCNs, or Multi-Channel Networks agencies that promise training, visibility, and management, and usually deliver all of those along with long working hours, strict behavioural rules, and contracts that would make a Bollywood agent look charitable. For many college-aged women entering the field, the first real shock is discovering that livestreaming marketed as casual, creative work is managed with the rigidity of a factory floor.
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Studies of China’s livestreaming labour show that many MCNs micromanage schedules, dictate output targets, and control how income is split. While the audience sees an easygoing performer chatting amiably into a camera, the off-screen reality is one of closely monitored digital labour, where flexibility exists mostly in promotional brochures.
The emotional toll is equally significant. Academic research documents widespread burnout, loneliness, and the relentless pressure to maintain a cheerful persona regardless of personal circumstances. Women from rural or less privileged backgrounds face additional scrutiny: offline stigma, online harassment, and social judgment for pursuing a profession many still view with suspicion. The constant demand to perform, respond, and entertain blurs boundaries, creating an always-on work culture with little space for recovery.
Financial risk is built into the model. Platforms prioritise high engagement and long streaming hours, prompting performers to stay online for extended periods or adopt more sensational content strategies to retain viewer attention. In an industry where visibility is everything, many feel compelled to push limits simply to maintain their standing with algorithms.
Regulators have attempted to keep pace, but enforcement often trails the industry’s rapid evolution. While the Cyberspace Administration of China issues rules governing content and conduct, many violations surface only when they reach the courts. As livestreaming merges deeper into e-commerce and retail, the potential for misinformation, technical failures, and consumer disputes only increases, adding more pressure on both viewers and streamers caught in these algorithm-driven cycles.
Some of the clearest indications of the industry’s exploitative structures come from recent legal disputes. In a February 2024 case reported by Rest of World, a 22-year-old streamer faced a ¥300,000 penalty for quitting a two-year contract; a court eventually ordered her to pay ¥100,000. Another streamer in Chongqing was told to pay nearly ¥154,000 for ending her contract early.
Other cases have involved clauses demanding ten times a performer’s highest monthly salary or a flat RMB 2 million. In Jiangsu, a court ruled that a woman working five hours a day, 25 days a month, under strict MCN supervision was effectively an employee—highlighting that many streamers operate as workers without the protections of formal employment.
A particularly troubling practice gaining attention is “self-gifting,” where agencies or sometimes the streamers themselves—send fake gifts to artificially boost popularity. These transactions, designed to trick algorithms and mislead viewers, often appear later as studio fees deducted from the streamer’s pay. What looks like sudden success on screen may actually be debt accumulating off screen.
College students are among the most vulnerable entrants. Attracted by the promise of quick earnings, they often discover too late that the work is time-consuming, emotionally taxing, and financially precarious. Long streaming hours interfere with academics, harassment becomes a routine occupational hazard, and quitting can incur costs they never anticipated.
What persists behind the bright lights and upbeat performances is a demanding, competitive, and frequently unforgiving industry. And while China’s livestreaming economy continues to expand, the burden falls disproportionately on the young women powering it many of whom pay a hidden price that viewers rarely see.
Research Associate at StratNewsGlobal, A keen observer of #China and Foreign Affairs. Writer, Weibo Trends, Analyst.
Twitter: @resham_sng
