一位中國女網紅長期以「賣慘」手法吸引關注的故事，並引發網路熱議。她在過去幾年裡，時常以「自己快不行了」「可能要走了」這樣的言辭出現在短視頻裡，營造出一種身患重病、命不久矣的形象。她經常戴著帽子，神情憂鬱，臉色病態，看起來像是一位與病魔抗爭卻依然努力生活的可憐人。這樣的表演，加上悲情化的語言，確實引起不少網友的同情與憐憫。許多人在她的視頻下留言祝福，或給予點贊支持，甚至有人因此產生「愛心幫助」的衝動。

然而，事情的發展卻出人意料。隨著時間推移，這位網紅並沒有如她反覆聲稱的「隨時可能離開人世」，而是在五年後順利轉型為帶貨主播。這種強烈的反差，讓不少網友感到被欺騙，甚至有一種「被利用善意」的憤怒情緒。細心的網友還指出，她在喊著「快不行了」的同時，卻先把商品賣給了粉絲與觀眾，等於將悲情故事變成了商業營銷的工具。

事件也折射出當前網路生態中的一個現象：透過「賣慘」來博取眼球、博取流量，甚至進一步轉化為帶貨收益，已經成為部分網紅的套路。不可否認的是，確實有人在現實中遭遇重大困難，他們可能依靠網路平台尋求社會援助，本身無可厚非。但問題在於，如果過多假裝悲慘的博主以此牟利，就會造成「狼來了」效應。當善意被不斷消耗，真正需要幫助的弱者，反而可能因為大眾失去信任而被忽視。

總體來看，這起女網紅「畫大餅給閻王」的荒誕案例，不僅是一場個人行為引發的爭議，也是一面照出網絡輿論場的鏡子。它讓人反思網路的虛假表演與現實幫扶之間的界線，提醒人們在網絡時代既要保持同情心，也要保持警惕心。

This news story revolves around a Chinese female influencer who has long relied on playing the “tragic” card to attract attention, sparking heated debate online. For several years, she frequently appeared in short videos saying things like “I’m not going to make it” or “I might be leaving soon,” deliberately creating the image of someone gravely ill and on the verge of death. She often wore a hat, looked sorrowful, and appeared pale and frail, resembling a woman struggling against illness yet still clinging to hope. This performance, combined with emotional, despairing language, did manage to stir sympathy among many viewers. Countless people left blessings in her comments or liked her videos, with some even feeling compelled to “help out of kindness.”

But the story took an unexpected turn. Despite years of repeatedly claiming that she was near death, the influencer did not pass away. Instead, five years later, she smoothly transitioned into live-streaming e-commerce. The sharp contrast between her earlier “farewell” act and her current role as a sales host left many netizens feeling deceived, with some angry that their goodwill had been exploited. Observant viewers pointed out that while she kept insisting she was “about to go,” she was, in fact, busy selling goods to her followers—turning her tragic narrative into a marketing tool.

This case also highlights a broader trend in today’s online environment: using “playing the victim” as a formula to gain clicks, attention, and eventually sales revenue. To be fair, there are indeed people who face real difficulties and may seek help through online platforms, which is understandable. But the problem is that when too many influencers fake hardship to make money, it leads to a “boy who cried wolf” effect. Once people’s goodwill is drained by repeated manipulations, those who genuinely need support may end up ignored and left behind.

Overall, this bizarre story of an influencer “drawing big promises for the King of Hell” is more than just a personal scandal—it reflects a deeper issue within the online ecosystem. It forces us to reconsider the blurry line between staged misery and genuine need in the digital age, reminding us that while compassion is important, vigilance is equally necessary.