I recently came across a case that truly shocked me. The scam involving Chen Anzhi's success training that happened years ago— the more I learn, the more I realize how ruthless this scheme is.

A livestock farmer in Guizhou, Niu Fangfang, was attracted to participate in Chen Anzhi's training courses, and in the end, she spent 1.08 million yuan to become so-called "Ultimate Disciple." She sold her sheep and cattle from the farm, borrowed here and there to gather the money. Qin Xue from Sichuan did the same; in order to pay the 310k yuan "entry disciple" fee, she disregarded her husband's objections, quit her job, and mortgaged her property for a loan. What was the result? Both of them fell into debt crises, and Qin Xue even contemplated ending her life by the Huangpu River at one point.

You think paying the money means you’ll learn something? Naive. Niu Fangfang attended nine training sessions, each with the same content—Chen Anzhi bragging about his achievements, then assistants coming on stage to promote fake investment projects, Bitcoin, jade, stocks, with prices outrageously high. She was also persuaded to buy Taiwanese company stocks worth 100k yuan, which she’s still losing money on. Changing her name required paying over 30k yuan more.

What’s the most ironic part? There’s actually no such thing as "success learning." Industry insiders analyze that Chen Anzhi’s model is a carefully designed scam. They have no real teaching content—only brainwashing and motivational clichés. Lawyers state outright that this fully meets the criminal elements of fraud and illegal fundraising—fabricating facts, false promises, and swindling huge sums of money.

The entire operation system is even darker. Chen Anzhi encourages students to become agents, recruit others to earn commissions, forming a complete "food chain." His disciples, Xu Hening and Yu Boya, rely on these "talking tricks" to establish their own scams and continue deceiving. Victims openly admit, "The only way to succeed is to become a scammer and fool more people into taking courses."

There are also details that leave people speechless—apprentice initiation ceremonies require uniform costumes, costing 500 yuan per set, and they don’t let that money go. All high-level training sessions prohibit recording or filming, with assistants closely monitoring to prevent evidence of scams from leaking. The company’s registered address can’t be found, and its business scope doesn’t match, suspected of tax evasion.

Looking at this case, my biggest feeling is—so-called success gurus, their only success is squeezing every penny from their students. There are no shortcuts, no master who can teach you success. Being down-to-earth is the right way; don’t be fooled by these high-level scams.