An app that cost less than USD 200 to build and caused a stir in China last month has provided a glimpse into the mindset and fears of young people who live alone in the world’s second-largest economy.
The app, originally called “Are You Dead?” was created by three Chinese, all born after 1995, in Henan in their spare time. The concept is simple: if a user fails to check in for more than two days, the app automatically notifies a preset emergency contact.
One of the creators told Chinese media that the app was mainly aimed at women aged 25–35 who live on their own in major cities. The software was amplified by influencers and highlighted by numerous media outlets, and at one point in January topped the paid downloads chart on Apple’s China app store, although it was unavailable there as of month’s end.
While the download numbers are murky, the app and its provocative name clearly captured attention and resonated with people living alone, turning a rare spotlight on their concerns.
Death is a sensitive subject in Chinese culture. But with a rapidly aging population, the number of deaths is set to rise sharply in the coming years. Inevitably, some people will die with no one around them.
China’s latest national census showed that single-person households had surpassed 125 million by the end of 2020. Research in 2021 by Beijing News projected that the number of people living solo could jump to 150–200 million by 2030, driven by factors such as greater population mobility, longer education cycles, and delayed marriage and childbirth.
Last year, China’s population declined for a fourth straight year while its birth rate hit the lowest level in history, despite Beijing’s efforts to stave off a demographic crisis.
Zhang Zhian, a professor in the school of journalism at Shanghai’s Fudan University, said that even if the app was not a real breakout hit and its brief rise up the app store rankings does not equate to scale, it still reflects a broader social mood.
“The app has clearly hit a nerve, giving voice to the anxiety that many young, single urbanites feel about personal security, limited upward mobility, and the suffocating sense of so-called involution,” Zhang said, using China’s term for the excessive competition driving deflation.
Even among Gen Z consumers who are materially secure, many are “highly aspirational and feel frustrated when upward mobility is constrained,” he said. The gap between ambition and opportunity, combined with shrinking offline social circles, has pushed some in China toward virtual or artificial intelligence-driven companionship, signaling thee spread of loneliness, Zhang said.
It is uncertain just how far the app spread. On January 10, it made it to the top of the paid downloads chart. The founder told Chinese media that the number of users surged as much as 300 times between January 10–14, and that the price, already raised from RMB 1 (USD 0.14) to RMB 8 (USD 1.12), would eventually climb to RMB 15 (USD 2.1).
Data company Qimai paints a more modest picture, estimating total downloads of the app at just over 2,000 as of January 13. It shows the app was released on June 10, 2025, and had been subjected to one takedown order and three chart removals by mid-December, possibly triggered by Apple’s risk controls over suspected traffic manipulation or compliance issues. Accusations of plagiarism have also been leveled online.
The app’s concept and name risked putting it at odds with Chinese authorities. Zhang said it would not be surprising if Beijing does not like it. “Online sentiment spreads quickly, while authorities prefer platforms to promote positive energy,” he said.
In late December, China’s internet regulator announced tougher oversight of online influencer accounts, pledging to curb those that invent narratives or promote “lying flat,” nihilism, or ostentatious materialism deemed contrary to socialist core values. Lying flat is a youth trend in China that means withdrawing from the pressures of work and competition.
The regulator also targeted accounts that stoke extreme emotions, ridicule mainstream values, or trade in anxiety for traffic.
On January 13, the team behind the app said on Chinese social network Weibo that it had decided to rebrand the app globally as Demumu, while inviting suggestions for a new Chinese name. The “De” in the new name still appears to reference death, but with a softer tone.
As of January 27, the overseas version was live, but the updated edition had yet to appear on China’s app store. In the meantime, numerous paid copycat apps with near-identical logos have surfaced.
When contacted by Nikkei Asia, one of the founders, surnamed Guo, declined to say whether the app’s removal from the Chinese app store was voluntary or forced, and did not give a timeline for its return.
This article first appeared on Nikkei Asia. It has been republished here as part of 36Kr’s ongoing partnership with Nikkei.