In a nondescript office building in Hangzhou's Shangcheng District, a short drama performance training session for seniors is underway. Seven or eight elderly participants sit attentively, nodding along as their young instructor enthusiastically declares, "You're not outdated—you're actually riding the wave of opportunity!"

Among them was 60-year-old Wang Lei, who, like many others, was lured by promises of "daily earnings up to 1,000 yuan with zero experience required" after being scouted on a short-video platform. He paid thousands in training fees, hopeful for a chance to act. Yet, a year later, neither Wang nor any of his 30 classmates received a single acting offer.

Similar stories are rampant. As demand for "senior actors in short dramas" spreads, dubious "quick-training classes" have mushroomed nationwide. Many retirees, enticed by glossy ads, sign up—only to realize they’ve been scammed after paying fees and waiting indefinitely for nonexistent roles.

Wang’s experience mirrors a broader pattern. After signing an 8,880-yuan contract with "Starlight Acting Agency," he discovered fine print absolving the company of any guarantee for roles. When he and classmates demanded refunds, they were met with security guards and legal loopholes.

Others, like 55-year-old Liu Yan, joined online courses, bonding over shared dreams in 200-member WeChat groups. But the promised opportunities never materialized.

These schemes prey on retirees’ financial pressures and unfulfilled aspirations. Wang, a former oilfield technician, saw acting as a way to support his children—one buying a Beijing home, another unmarried. Liu, a cancer survivor and former accountant, longed for a "second act" after lifelong regrets.

Agencies defend their model. One manager, Zhang, insists his company provides "affordable training" and occasional industry access, citing a 48-year-old homemaker who landed minor roles. Yet he admits most seniors won’t secure significant parts, framing it as "mutually beneficial."

Reality is harsher. Industry insiders note that short-drama crews prioritize efficiency, rarely hiring untrained elderly actors. Base pay for extras is just 200 yuan/day, far below advertised sums.

When scams collapse, seniors face grueling legal battles. Many agencies dissolve assets, leaving victims with slim recourse. Wang, now consumed by his fight for refunds, sums it up: "It’s not just about greed—it’s about asymmetric information trapping vulnerable people."

As new classes continue recruiting, another cycle begins behind closed doors—another pitch about "catching the trend," another room of hopeful faces.