THE search for the Fountain of Youth that led Spanish explorer Juan Ponce de Leon to discover Florida in 1513 is no longer the stuff of myth. Biotech today is doing research into not only in delaying the aging process, but also reversing it.

In a landmark experiment published in Cell magazine in June, scientists at the Chinese Academy of Sciences reported infusing elderly rhesus monkeys with genetically engineered stem cells. Over 44 weeks, results were astonishing: sharper memory, stronger bones, enhanced metabolism and fertility, and no tumors. In short, scientists made the monkeys biologically younger.

This scientific milestone is a glimpse into a future that no longer seems impossible. From Beijing labs to Silicon Valley boardrooms, the war against aging has begun.

A new generation of ultra-rich entrepreneurs like OpenAI’s Sam Altman and Amazon founder Jeff Bezos are betting big on the idea that death may be optional. They’re bankrolling research in cellular reprogramming, plasma transfusion and senescence-inhibiting that may not just promise a longer life but an end to the aging process itself.

This trillion-dollar search involves serious science. Insiders call it the “death dividend,” a longevity windfall that could reshape healthcare systems, upend insurance models and create a new biomedical elite.

Yet for all the initial hype, scientists warn that turning back time isn’t so simple.

“In medicine, aging is probably the hardest challenge,” said Wu Ligang, a cell biologist at the Chinese Academy of Sciences in Shanghai. “Most diseases have one or two clear causes — one pathway you can target. But aging happens everywhere, all at once.”

Biological wear and tear on the body is a kind of molecular erosion. Reversing it isn’t like polishing rusty metal to a new sheen. It’s more like completely overhauling a machine that’s been running nonstop for decades.

At the cellular level, Wu explained, damage accumulates across the system: DNA mutations pile up, chromosomes change shape, proteins misfold and mitochondria — the power plant of cell reproduction — lose efficiency over time.

“If you want to reverse aging, you have to repair all these layers,” he said. “And that’s extremely difficult. You can’t just replace a few old cells with new ones and expect the body to start over.”

But that hasn’t stopped businesses from racing ahead of science to sell the idea of a Fountain of Youth to consumers. Some clinics offer “youth in a syringe” — from stem-cell infusions to NAD+ drips and even the blood-plasma exchanges favored by Silicon Valley billionaires.

These treatments claim to recharge mitochondria and flush out “zombie” senescent cells to reset biological clocks. Some are backed by early results from studies; others rely on little more than celebrity testimonials.

For instance, venture capitalist Bryan Johnson once made headlines for doing a “multi-generational plasma exchange,” taking a liter of blood plasma from his 17-year-old son and infusing it into himself.

More recently, he shifted to a more radical approach called Total Plasma Exchange, which he claims can remove all body plasma and replace it with purified albumin — effectively a body “oil change.” Medical experts, however, caution that the evidence of its efficacy remains thin and that replacing plasma en masse may carry serious risks.

In China, the anti-aging push looks like a three-lane expressway — an experimental lab lane moving fast on cells and genes, a clinical treatment lane inching forward under tight rules, and a consumer lane buzzing with demand and hype.

Chinese teams are doing more than just chasing slogans. They are making bold moves with real science.

In Shanghai, the Prometheus Cell Team is converting a patient’s skin fibroblasts into rejuvenating “Prometheus cells,” with plans for a human trial of 10-15-people pending approval. Their project is China’s sole semi-finalist in the XPRIZE Healthspan competition, a global recognition of revolutionary approaches to human aging.

China’s Sirio Institute for Anti-Aging was launched earlier this year as a platform to coordinate multi-system anti-aging research, from guts to muscles to reproduction.

In molecular work, local groups are tinkering with so-called NMN delivery systems, which relate to nicotinamide mononucleotides essential in cellular energy and DNA repair. One Jiangsu University team tested NMN loaded into vesicles of mouse skin, reporting wrinkle reduction and improved DNA repair markers.

But turning science into therapy is another story.

Inside hospitals, the anti-aging push moves at a fraction of the lab speed. A handful of public institutions, like Peking Union Medical College Hospital in Beijing and Ruijin Hospital in Shanghai, have opened “longevity clinics,” but their work focuses on diagnostics and prevention, not rejuvenation. Doctors measure biological age through blood biomarkers, hormone panels and body composition scans, offering diet and exercise plans rather than cell injections.

Regulations draw a hard line between research and treatment. China’s health authorities have licensed more than a hundred institutions to conduct stem-cell clinical studies, yet none are allowed to sell such therapies as “anti-aging.”

But outside that regulatory line, the market paints a very different picture.

Anti-aging has become one of China’s hottest consumer frontiers, a blur of science, beauty and ambition. NMN powders are sold on gray-market platforms for up to 3,000 yuan (US$421) a bottle. NAD+ “recharge drips” have popped up in luxury gyms and private clinics in major cities, often advertised as cellular detox or energy renewal. Some clinics charge more than 8,000 yuan per session, promising clearer skin and sharper focus.

On Chinese social media, the craze is even louder. On the Chinese lifestyle platform Xiaohongshu, or RedNote, hashtags like “#Anti-aging” and “#NMN” attract tens of thousands of posts, a blend of self-experimentation, medical myth and consumer faith.

“I’ve been taking NMN for 10 months, and my insomnia’s gone and my skin looks better,” one user claimed. Another cautioned: “First day 300mg twice, couldn’t sleep all night; second day got a fever.”

The discussions read like an open-air clinic, part hope, part confusion. Some insist imported NMN from Japan or the US is “purer,” while others share links to cross-border e-shops, asking, “Which brand actually works?”

“We consider the ‘longevity economy’ less as a mature industry and more a cross-sector investment theme,” said Wu Xiaoying, co-leader, EY China Health Sciences Wellness Sector. “Its essence is to extend a healthy lifespan, and doing so inherently spans many industries, including drug research and development, functional nutrition, chronic disease management and even elderly care and insurance.”

That framing gives structure to what might otherwise look chaotic. On one side is the high-risk, high-barrier frontier where breakthroughs in anti-aging drugs, stem-cell therapy and gene editing are rare but define what’s possible. On the other side is the fast-to-market consumer track of supplements, health management apps, diagnostics and wearable smart health devices.

To see how quickly things are scaling, consider the numbers. According to a joint report by KPMG and Zhongkang Data, China’s anti-aging market reached 600 billion yuan in 2024 and is projected to surpass 1 trillion yuan within the next five years.

Among them, NMN has emerged from traditional supplements such as fish oil, protein powder and liver-protection tablets as a consumer favorite.

According to data from iiMedia Research, China’s NMN market reached 8.5 billion yuan in 2024 and is expected to exceed 12 billion yuan this year, making it one of the fastest-growing segments in the country’s health-supplement industry.

“These two forces — scientific breakthroughs and consumer demand — are driving the dual engines of the field,” Wu said. “Big pharma and specialized funds are placing bets on longevity therapeutics. At the same time, capital is rushing into consumer health segments because they convert to profit faster.”

Wu sees a “dumbbell” opportunity structure, with one end innovation in drugs and therapies and the other end accessible services of nutrition and diagnostics. For companies and investors, the key is self-positioning: Do you take the patient route necessary for long timelines or go for early traction?

China’s position is neither behind nor ahead of the curve. Its advantage lies in scale and speed. With the largest aging population in the world, China can accumulate real-world data at volume, and it has often proven itself faster than Western counterparts in application of new technologies.

The winners in this emerging ecosystem will be those who can integrate biotech, hardware, software and finance.

If you can link molecule to data to service to user, you may own more than a product; you may own the future of aging itself.