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The Dream of Getting Rich Quickly Shattered at "Wonton Tavern"
Why does the dream of getting rich quickly with AI Wonton Tavern shatter in the hands of franchisees?
Issue No. 4552
Author | Catering Boss Insider Qifan
The once popularWontonTavern,
begins to “mass” close down
The Wonton Tavern that was popular for three or four months is now starting to “mass” close. On social media, the Wonton Tavern shows a stark contrast of extremes.
One side is business bleak, shops urgently up for sale: a simple older sister, exhausted her savings, borrowed money, spent 500k yuan to open a Wonton Tavern in her hometown, but it was out of business in less than a month, looking worriedly for advice in the comments; another is due to health reasons and urgent family matters, reluctantly selling her tavern, heartfelt and sincere.
The other side is nostalgic DJ tunes playing, inside a simply decorated small tavern, middle-aged “brothers” start swaying their hips, leading the crowd to party together. Such lively scenes haven’t been seen in a long time. Commenters leave messages about how to open a tavern, how to franchise.
The highest-rated comment is “A designated driver waited all night at the door, not a single order, all come out riding electric bikes.” Though teasing, it also highlights the “poverty attribute” of the Wonton Tavern.
By the end of 2025, in streets and alleys of Changchun, Jilin, Panjin, Jinzhou, and other places, Wonton Taverns bloom overnight everywhere, with similar decor (mostly simple tables and chairs, white walls covered with eulogies of youth), similar atmosphere (DJ tunes playing, big brothers leading dance on stage, the vibe ignites instantly).
In the cold winter winds of Northeast China, where “social bulls” are everywhere, this model is shining brightly, spreading nationwide through short videos. entrepreneurs waiting for a profitable project see this and get excited, then search again, “30 square meters shop, annual revenue of 2.89 million,” a huge good news that ignites the entrepreneurial dream, quickly joining in.
But when they open the franchise, they find that “dreams are inflated, reality is harsher.” First is renovation costs, initially thought it was just painting white walls, setting up sound systems, and arranging some tables and chairs. But some opened shops spent 200,000 to 300,000, even 500k yuan, excluding franchise fees—where did all the money go?
Some practitioners mention that many Wonton Taverns are located near communities, requiring soundproofing, which is the biggest part of renovation. The cost of soundproof walls varies depending on materials, roughly between 25k and 160k yuan for a 100㎡ tavern.
After spending money, renovating, and opening, operation becomes a big problem. As the saying goes, the atmosphere depends on people. The soul of the Wonton Tavern is a “big brother” who can boost the mood and lead everyone to dance. In Northeast China, it’s easy to find such big brothers and create a lively atmosphere, but once out of the region, it’s somewhat out of place.
The areas where Wonton Taverns are closing in large numbers are Shaanxi, Jiangsu, Shandong. The night scene model of Wonton Taverns clashes with local nightlife culture; initially just for fun, but after the excitement, people no longer want to keep the fun going.
Xiao Wang, a partner from Yantai, entered with enthusiasm, paying 100k yuan franchise fee plus renovation and miscellaneous costs, totaling over 500k yuan. But after opening, he couldn’t see the lively scenes from the videos. The promised minimum revenue of 10k yuan was far from reach, and the shop closed hurriedly in less than two months, losing nearly 500,000 yuan.
Such examples are everywhere—blindly rushing in with enthusiasm, investing heavily, struggling for a month or two, then ending in a hasty shutdown.
What does the Wonton Tavern rely on to make money?
9.9 yuan for fresh meat wontons, 19.9 yuan for snacks with drinks—these seem like hooks to lure customers in and make a lot of money on drinks. But most Wonton Taverns have an average spend of 50 yuan per person, and don’t make much profit.
More importantly, repurchase rates are extremely low, and customer complaints are frequent: “The wontons aren’t freshly made, they’re frozen. I ordered instant noodles, and it’s even worse than what I cook myself. Only the small skewers are somewhat acceptable. The types of alcohol aren’t many either; it feels like just a place to indulge in mood, not highly recommended for drinks or food.”
The target customers of Wonton Taverns are middle-aged groups with emotional and nostalgic needs, but they are also the most pragmatic, highly price-sensitive, with a cap of around 30-50 yuan per visit. Many come just for the atmosphere, ordering the cheapest set and sitting all night, unwilling to spend more, with almost zero table turnover.
Looking beyond the emotional hype of getting rich quickly, it’s clear that Wonton Taverns are not aimed at long-term operation. The products are frozen, pre-made, perfunctory—completely uncompetitive compared to other night-time dining venues.
From a bar perspective, most customers come to try new things, but ultimately they return to local bars that have been operating for years. Essentially, Wonton Taverns are “retail spaces” disguised as emotional outlets, selling alcohol and snacks, far from genuine restaurant operations.
Although selling alcohol and snacks isn’t profitable, Wonton Taverns have a way to make money. Beneath those carefully crafted, highly edited videos that go viral, there are still people shouting “how to franchise,” and yes, these users are also carefully selected.
Through lively short videos, they precisely target the “leeks” (unsuspecting investors) who haven’t been harvested yet, making huge profits from franchise fees. Once you open your shop, you’ll find that your “ordinary” store doesn’t have the lively atmosphere shown in the videos; after the initial hype, it becomes long-term cold and quiet. Whether to persist or not, and enduring ongoing losses, becomes your daily concern.
The final answer to how Wonton Taverns make money is, of course, by “you”—by your franchise fees.
Behind the Wonton Tavern,
Lies a more brutal “franchise chaos”
Wonton Taverns are like a gust of wind—hot then cold—reflecting a small snapshot of the current state of restaurant franchise industry.
First is the change in communication channels. Through short videos, more lively scenes are spread to thousands of households. With algorithmic promotion, the more you watch, the more these videos appear, creating a “filter bubble” that makes you more convinced.
Second is the shift in franchise targets. The competition for franchisees is moving from experienced restaurant operators to novice entrepreneurs eager to start, even targeting “moms” as a more tangible group.
Projects like Nezha Xianyin, Eco Bread, Chinese Medicine Mantou, Chinese Medicine Milk Tea, which seem highly unreliable, are leveraging “information gaps” to harvest the little savings left by moms.
Third is the lowering of franchise thresholds. Online propaganda touts “good franchise projects” with low costs and low entry barriers, promising high returns and quick payback. These projects are very tempting, but all the gifts in life come with hidden prices.
Low franchise costs may mean no ongoing operational support, a lively start but weak later support. Lower thresholds also reduce the difficulty of opening a shop. During the initial boom of Wonton Taverns, Shenyang quickly had a Wonton Tavern street, with ten shops on one street, each with a dance leader and nostalgic music. Once customers are dispersed, if the shop opens late, the lively scenes can’t be replicated.
As the wheel of the times pushes some people off, the idea that “food is the foundation of the people” makes many treat the restaurant industry as their last straw. But as time moves forward, the industry evolves, and consumer demands change. Franchisees need to be more cautious—don’t let “short-sighted greed” turn this last straw into the final blow.
Spring is here, and Northeast China is warming up day by day. The gloomy mood of winter is swept away, but the nostalgic emotions released in Wonton Taverns suddenly stop, the taverns are no longer lively, leaving only chaos and worried franchisees.
Chief Editor on Duty | Sun Yu
Visuals & Illustrations | Quan Zijun
Operations | Quan Zijun