(Source: South China Morning Post | 123rf)
You have to see it to believe it, and then pause and laugh and sigh all at once. Meet Jin, a devoted gym-goer from eastern China who has been faithfully pumping iron at Ranyan Gym in Hangzhou for 3 years.
On 9th May 2025, a friendly (or too-friendly) sales executive approached him with a special “promotion” for loyal customers. The pitch was wild enough to make your jaw drop: for 8,888 yuan (RM5,228) he could grab a 1 year membership card, which the gym promised to resell to a new member for 16,666 yuan (RM9,804). He would get 90% of the profit, the gym kept just 10% and if the card went unsold in 2 months the gym would refund every yuan. Jin was skeptical but intrigued. A couple of those cards cost him just over 17,000 yuan (RM10,000) and he thought maybe, just maybe, he was onto something clever.
“In my eyes, it was a kind of commitment to health”
Fast forward to 9th July, and Jin had swiped 26 contracts, shelled out a whopping 871,273 yuan, that is more than RM512,542, and bought around 1,200 lessons and membership cards that added up to a cumulative validity of a staggering 300 years.
“From 10th May 10 to 9th July, I bought about 1,200 lessons and membership cards with an accumulative validity period of 300 years, at a total cost of 871,273 yuan,” Jin said, as quoted by South China Morning Post.
Yes 300 years, which, to be fair, he never seriously planned to use. In his own words it was “investment in health”, not a literal immortality plan.
They literally disappeared
Then mid-July rolled around and nothing happened. No sales, no refunds, not a single yuan came back. A sales executive claimed the finance department was reviewing things. By the end of July a massive red flag flew. Management, sales team, even the owner had vanished.
Jin went on to seek the help of a television station, Zhejiang TV, to expose Ranyan Gym. Jin showed the station 26 contracts he signed with the gym. The TV station found that the gym was still open but only staffed by receptionists and admin folks, no one who could explain a thing. Only then did Jin fully realise the promotion was a scam. A crucial little detail was that none of the contracts mentioned promised returns, and all memberships were strictly non-transferable. His optimism was based on nothing but hot air.
“I admit I have been brainwashed by them, because I believed I was only one small step away from getting back all my money,” Jin told the TV station. He’s filed a police report, is pursuing a lawsuit, and has asked the TV station to help him shine light on the scam.
This bizarre saga reminds us all that when an offer sounds too good to be true especially in investments or “health commitments” you may wanna pump the brakes and triple-check the fine print.