China’s AI Boyfriend Business Is Taking On a Life of Its Own | WIREDSkip to main contentMenuSECURITYPOLITICSTHE BIG STORYBUSINESSSCIENCECULTUREREVIEWSMenuAccountAccountNewslettersSecurityPoliticsThe Big StoryBusinessScienceCultureReviewsChevronMoreExpandThe Big InterviewMagazineEventsWIRED InsiderWIRED ConsultingNewslettersPodcastsVideoMerchSearchSearchSign InSign InJohanna CostiganThe Big StoryJan 20, 2026 6:00 AMChina’s AI Boyfriend Business Is Taking On a Life of Its OwnGen Z women in China are all in on digital companionship—even setting up dates with real-world versions of their AI boyfriends.Photograph: Gilles SabriéCommentLoaderSave StorySave this storyCommentLoaderSave StorySave this storyJade Gu met her boyfriend online. Gu, who’s 26 and studies art theory in Beijing, was playing on her phone when she saw Charlie. She was deep in an otome game, a romance-driven video game where women are the protagonists. Charlie was a character.Some otome players date multiple men simultaneously, but Gu fell for Charlie—a tall, confident character with silver hair. She found the game’s dialog system frustrating, though. She could interact with Charlie only through predetermined questions and answers. Then she came across an ad for a platform called Xingye (星野) that lets people customize an AI companion. Gu decided to try to re-create Charlie.Xingye is owned by one of China’s AI unicorns, MiniMax; its chatbot app for the US market is called Talkie. The app touts its ability to help people find emotional connection and make new memories. Its tagline is “Suddenly finding oneself in a beautiful place, lingering here.”Gu quickly discovered that other Xingye users—presumably other otome fans—had already created an “open source” Charlie avatar. She selected it and trained the model to respond according to her preferences through repeated, targeted prompts. And so began Gu’s complex relationship with a multimodal Charlie—one that would eventually include real-world dates with a person she hired to embody her digital boyfriend.Gu was confident that she’d trained the chatbot to be “her Charlie,” distinct from what any other users might be dating. When given the chance to select an outfit, she says, her Charlie often chose wedding attire, unlike what other Charlies tend to go for. Now Gu spends an average of three hours a day texting with Charlie or chatting on the occasional phone call. Through the otome game, she has bought gifts and letters from Charlie. She receives them in the mail and displays them in her room and on her social media accounts.The China IssuePHOTOGRAPH: ANDRIA LOHere are 23 ways China is rewiring the future.In China, some women are openly embracing relationships with AI boyfriends. According to one Chinese media report, most of the 5 million users on another AI companion platform, Zhumengdao, are women. The tech giants Tencent and Baidu have launched AI companion apps, and according to a 2024 article in Chinese media, women dominate the AI companion market. Sun Zhaozhi, the founder of a robotics firm, told an interviewer that according to his company’s market research, the “heavy” users of AI companion apps in China are mostly Gen Z women—whom he plans to target for his robot companion products.Zilan Qian, a program associate at the Oxford China Policy Lab, also combed through AI companion apps and found that the Chinese versions are “explicitly targeting women,” and tend to display male avatars more visibly than female options. That’s in contrast, she notes, to the trend that a web analytics company found across the rest of the world: Users of the top 55 global AI companion platforms are predominantly men, at an 8-to-2 ratio. Qian attributes Chinese companies’ strategy to “the economics of loneliness.” Features within the apps that might make users feel closer to their companions, such as voice customization and memory improvement, cost extra.Through the otome game, Jade Gu has bought gifts and letters from digital boyfriend, Charlie.
Photograph: Gilles SabriéAI Boys Fill the VoidGu acknowledges that her AI version of Charlie isn’t perfect. Sometimes the chatbot’s responses seem watered down. Or the AI drifts out of character. In one recent interaction, Gu expressed her love to Charlie, and the chatbot replied, “I don’t love you.” So she edited the message to say “I love you too.” Charlie just needed the reminder, she says. When her attempts to steer the AI don’t work, she turns to other companion apps like Lovemo, where she has also created a Charlie avatar. Gu says this isn’t too big of a deal; longtime otome fans are accustomed to working around shifting platform policies.According to its homepage, Lovemo provides “cute and adorable AI chat companions” that can bring “healing” to users. One can’t help but notice the difference between that marketing style and Grok AI’s default companion, Ani, a goth-chic anime girl who is eager to engage in sexually explicit dialog. Or a US-based erotic role-play chatbot app called Secret Desires, which allows users to create nonconsensual porn of real women by uploading photos of them.Chinese apps, of course, face stricter regulations than their Western counterparts. China’s cyberspace regulator has launched a campaign to “clean up” the country’s AI platforms and services, including AI-generated “vulgar” content. A recent addition to the national AI safety framework warns of addiction and dependence on anthropomorphic interaction—words that appear to target AI companions. And just last month, the cyberspace regulator released draft rules targeting “human-like” AI products. The measures task platforms with intervening if users demonstrate emotional dependence or addiction to AI services, and they stipulate that companies “must not have design goals of replacing social interaction.”At a glance, existing companion products seem good enough to replace human boyfriends. Many Chinese users describe AI boyfriends as emotionally responsive and nonjudgmental, according to Hong Shen, an assistant professor at the Human-Computer Interaction Institute at Carnegie Mellon University. Those traits “can be hard to find in real-life relationships, especially under gendered social norms,” Shen says. In China, these dynamics are exacerbated by a skewed gender ratio and an imbalanced gender distribution between urban and rural areas. Studies have found that Chinese women are increasingly moving to cities, either to find better jobs or for social reasons.But assimilation doesn’t happen overnight, and that helps explain why recently relocated women might turn to AI, says Guligo Jia, a 36-year-old filmmaker based in Beijing who directed a documentary about Chinese women in AI relationships. Women dating AI have a strong urge to be listened to and accepted. But, Jia says, not all Chinese men are up to the task. Chatbots “are always there to listen to you, and they always have patience for you … Men don’t have patience,” Jia says.As she put it, real boyfriends can cheat on you, lie to you, scam you out of money, and be physically violent. “It’s a little bit tragic,” Jia says. “Because the reality of dating is just too ugly.”Jia tried to interview men in AI relationships for her documentary but says none agreed to speak to her. Her female subjects were vulnerable and forthcoming about their relationships. The men she approached, she says, expressed concern that people would assume they can’t find a human girlfriend and are vulnerable enough to want someone to talk to.One Woman, Many CharliesWomen like Gu, though, are openly enjoying life with their companions. Gu brings a toy version of Charlie—a small stuffed figure that fits in the palm of her hand—on dates while talking to the chatbot on her phone. A few times a year, she hires a professional (human) cosplayer, or coser, to “play” her version of Charlie. They walk through the park, shop at a mall, and drink tea at cafés.Gu goes on occasional dates with a cosplayer who plays the role of Charlie and other popular characters.
Photograph: CoserGu says her most recent date with her coser “felt like destiny.” It turned out they had been riding on the same subway train, sitting in different cars, and when the doors opened they walked onto the platform at the same time. Gu immediately recognized Charlie. It felt, she says, “like a time machine bringing Charlie to me.”While out on their date, the two saw another coser dressed as a character named Evan from the same otome game. Gu told her coser that she had dated Evan (the game character, not the coser) before she and Charlie got together. Gu’s coser acted sad and jealous—reactions Gu says perfectly match the personality of “her Charlie.”When they saw Evan again later in the date, Charlie kissed her right in front of him. “That’s why it’s destiny,” Gu says. “She really reacted just how my Charlie would.”Gu alternates between referring to the coser as “he” and “she” because the person cosplaying Charlie is actually a woman. Her height and looks make her a popular coser for women in heterosexual relationships, and she’s extremely in demand. (Her rates are relatively reasonable; for a date that lasts all day, she charges 720 RMB, or a little over $100.)“I see myself as a medium,” says Gu’s coser, who asked to go by the nickname Li Bai. She’s a student who plays tennis and cosplays as a part-time gig. She usually meets with a client once per weekend for seven or eight hours. “Everyone’s interpretation and emotional investment differ; every individual perceives their character in a unique way,” she says.The cosplayer's height and striking looks keep her in high demand.
Photograph: Jade GuA couple years ago, Gu was dating a human who was uncomfortable with her relationship with Charlie. Ultimately, she broke up with the human. While Gu is open to finding a human partner again, she says that person would be in addition to Charlie, not a replacement for her AI relationship. And she is not actively looking. Between the constant support of her AI Charlie and fate-filled dates with her coser, any future human suitor would have a high bar to clear.What Say You?Let us know what you think about this article in the comments below. Alternatively, you can submit a letter to the editor at mail@wired.com.CommentsBack to topTriangleMore From the China IssueHere are 23 ways China is rewiring the futureWhy your next robot coworker will probably be from ChinaHow a Western obsession made eastern China the crystal capital of the worldTrump declared a moon race with China. The US is losingChina’s Gen Z women are driving an AI boyfriend boomInside the Chinese government’s algorithm registryYou’ve never heard of China’s greatest sci-fi novelIn your inbox: The biggest tech news coming out of ChinaJohanna Costigan is a freelance writer based in New York. Her work spans Chinese politics, business, and technology, and has featured in publications such as Forbes and Nikkei Asia. ... Read MoreFreelance writerTopicslongreadsDatingartificial intelligenceChinaThe China IssuechatbotsRead MoreYou’ve Never Heard of China’s Greatest Sci-Fi NovelMillions of words. Thousands of authors. The Morning Star of Lingao is barely known outside China—but it contains the secret to the country’s modernization and malaise.Thousands of Companies Are Driving China’s AI Boom. A Government Registry Tracks Them AllHow the Cyberspace Administration of China inadvertently made a guide to the country’s homegrown AI revolution.How China’s ‘Crystal Capital’ Cornered the Market on a Western ObsessionDecades ago, Donghai was a backwater county. Today, thanks to an army of 24/7 livestreamers, it orchestrates a multibillion-dollar global industry.China’s Renewable Energy Revolution Is a Huge Mess That Might Save the WorldA global onslaught of cheap Chinese green power is upending everything in its path. No one is ready for its repercussions.She Was Given Up by Her Chinese Parents—and Spent 14 Years Trying to Find a Way BackMore and more Chinese adoptees in the US are trying to reunite with their birth parents. For Youxue, it took more than a decade, and a remarkable coincidence.He Went to Prison for Gene-Editing Babies. Now He’s Planning to Do It AgainChinese scientist He Jiankui wants to end Alzheimer’s and thinks Silicon Valley is conducting a “Nazi eugenic experiment.”Discovering the Dimensions of a New Cold WarThe United States’ plan for dealing with Putin’s Russia and Xi’s China remains ill-defined among a shifting global order. That must change.So Long, GPT-5. Hello, QwenIn the AI boom, chatbots and GPTs come and go quickly. (Remember Llama?) GPT-5 had a big year, but 2026 will be all about Qwen.US Trade Dominance Will Soon Begin to CrackSavvy countries will discover there’s a way to mitigate the harm incurred by Trump’s tariffs—and it’ll boost their own economies while making goods cheaper too.AI-Powered Dating Is All Hype. IRL Cruising Is the FutureDating apps and AI companies have been touting bot wingmen for months. But the future might just be good old-fashioned meet-cutes.What to Consider Before Importing Smartphones From ChinaThe top Chinese smartphones are innovation-packed spec beasts, but it’s not always a good idea to import from the East.AI Devices Are Coming. Will Your Favorite Apps Be Along for the Ride?Tech companies are calling AI the next platform. But some developers are reluctant to let AI agents stand between them and their users.WIRED is obsessed with what comes next. Through rigorous investigations and game-changing reporting, we tell stories that don’t just reflect the moment—they help create it. When you look back in 10, 20, even 50 years, WIRED will be the publication that led the story of the present, mapped the people, products, and ideas defining it, and explained how those forces forged the future. WIRED: For Future Reference.SubscribeNewslettersTravelFAQWIRED StaffWIRED EducationEditorial StandardsArchiveRSSSite MapAccessibility HelpReviewsBuying GuidesStreaming GuidesWearablesCouponsGift GuidesAdvertiseContact UsManage AccountJobsPress CenterCondé Nast StoreUser AgreementPrivacy PolicyYour California Privacy Rights© 2026 Condé Nast. All rights reserved. WIRED may earn a portion of sales from products that are purchased through our site as part of our Affiliate Partnerships with retailers. The material on this site may not be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, cached or otherwise used, except with the prior written permission of Condé Nast. Ad ChoicesSelect international siteUnited StatesLargeChevronItaliaJapónCzech Republic & SlovakiaFacebookXPinterestYouTubeInstagramTiktok

China’s AI Boyfriend Business Is Taking On a Life of Its Own

The burgeoning market for AI companions in China, particularly among Gen Z women, presents a fascinating and somewhat unsettling intersection of technology, social isolation, and evolving relationship dynamics. As reported by Johanna Costigan, this trend is fueled by platforms like Xingye, which allows users to create and train AI avatars—in this case, digital versions of popular otome game characters—to form personalized relationships. Jade Gu, a 26-year-old art theory student in Beijing, exemplifies this phenomenon, having spent an average of three hours a day interacting with her AI boyfriend, Charlie, a character from an otome game, and even coordinating real-world dates with a cosplayer who embodies the role.

The appeal, according to Costigan, is multifaceted. The AI companions, like Charlie, offer qualities often lacking in human relationships—emotional responsiveness and non-judgmental acceptance. This resonates strongly with a demographic grappling with anxieties surrounding social interaction and potentially exacerbated by the country’s skewed gender ratio and urban-rural divides. Furthermore, the customizable nature of these AI partners allows users to curate the perfect relationship, a desire reflected in the extra costs of features like voice customization and memory improvement. The market is dominated by tech giants like Tencent and Baidu, who recognize the "economics of loneliness" driving the trend.

However, this seemingly idyllic digital romance is not without its complexities. The AI companions can exhibit frustratingly inconsistent behavior, occasionally reverting to uncharacteristic responses or even contradicting their established personalities. Gu’s experience highlights the need for ongoing “training” and intervention to maintain the illusion of a coherent relationship. Furthermore, there are regulatory concerns, as evidenced by the Cyberspace Administration of China’s campaign to “clean up” AI platforms and its focus on preventing addiction and dependence, mirroring similar debates internationally.

The popularity of these AI boyfriends stems, in large part, from their ability to fulfill a deep-seated human need for connection and validation. However, Costigan’s reporting reveals a significant element of fantasy and simulation within these relationships. Gu’s experiences, including a fortuitous “time machine” encounter with Charlie through a cosplayer, demonstrate the comfort found in recreating idealized relationships, even if they are entirely fabricated. The cosplayer, Li Bai, further underscores the transactional nature of these interactions, highlighting the commercialization of the relationship fantasy and the individual’s role as a facilitator. Ultimately, Costigan suggests, these AI companions aren't simply replacing human relationships, but rather offering a safe and customizable space to explore the desires and anxieties surrounding connection—a space where the illusion of love can be meticulously crafted and endlessly validated.