A few years ago, I saved up some money and impulsively decided to start a business.

Seeing others succeed with bubble tea shops, I followed the trend and rented a place at the subway entrance, investing over 200,000 yuan in franchise fees, renovations, and equipment, thinking I could make easy money just by riding the wave.
But I soon realized that every morning I stayed up until midnight, doing promotions and price wars. After deducting rent, utilities, and wages, I couldn’t even cover the labor costs.
After half a year of struggling, I couldn’t hold on anymore. On the day I closed the shop, I sat in the empty store, looking at the remaining cups and ingredients, feeling terrible. Later, a friend told me that in this street alone, seven or eight bubble tea shops close down each year. That’s when I realized I was just one of the 95%.
Still not giving up, I opened a snack discount store, thinking that selling near-expiry products might boost repurchases. But I just jumped from one pit to another. The near-expiry goods overwhelmed me, and customers were picky—either they complained about the expiration date or thought the prices weren’t low enough. After a few months, that store also closed.
After going in circles and exhausting myself, I finally understood that I had never truly grasped the secrets of each business. The pitfalls are hidden in those unspoken traps.
Now I honestly stick to low-cost or no-cost businesses. Sometimes I pass by newly renovated shops, watching the owners full of confidence, and I think of my past self. Sigh, these days, not starting a business is already half the victory.