Self-Enjoying Pot, bids farewell to the world 【Small Defeat】

Friends, the self-heating pot has truly been wiped out.

This once $7.5 billion company, with half of the entertainment industry queuing to promote it, claiming to be the “ceiling of solo dining,” now not only has a mountain of debt, but its parent company is also undergoing bankruptcy review, and recently it was executed for 8.81 million, with the founder receiving his 12th “height limit” package:

Zhuge Liang only captured Meng Huo seven times, but our founder has been limited in height five more times.

Ah~~~ Five Rings, you have five more than Four Rings…

Both are convenience foods and both are leading brands; look at brands like Master Kong and Jin Mai Lang, which have been thriving for decades. Why has this top brand, the self-heating pot, collapsed in just a few years?

Many people say it’s because it’s “expensive and tastes bad.” After all, spending twenty to thirty bucks for a meal where even the meat relies on imagination is indeed a bit much.

Some say the self-heating pot only faltered after the pandemic ended—there’s no scene left, the demand is gone.

As the mother of successful enterprises closely monitoring those on the verge of failure and almost success, let me say with a clear conscience: the self-heating pot didn’t die because the pandemic ended.

From the moment it was born, it was already on the waiting list for the King of Hell.

1

Why?

Let’s not get into unnecessary details**, this thing simply doesn’t taste good.**

You tell me, as a food product, if it doesn’t taste good, isn’t that like Newton not being able to learn math, Wu Dalang not being able to sell pancakes, or me not being able to become Ximen Qing? What’s the point of your existence?

Those who have tried their self-heating rice know that the texture is like chewing on the homework paper I secretly munched on in class back in the day; as for the self-heating hot pot, it’s even worse—just a few slices of seaweed, some konjac, and a few mushy meatballs, and it dares to call itself hot pot.

Even the West Lake vinegar fish would confidently swim back into the lake after seeing it.

Many people might buy it once or twice out of curiosity, but they certainly won’t buy it a third time.

The key is, the self-heating pot is fundamentally a “false demand.”

Let’s think about one question: who exactly is buying this thing?

Eating at home?

I can boil a bowl of noodles, crack a couple of eggs, and slice a hot dog in ten minutes.

Why would I spend dozens of bucks just to eat a lump of reconstituted rice that tastes like homework paper?

Eating out?

If you’re on a train or a high-speed rail, this thing could trigger the smoke alarm, starting fines at 500 bucks; I wouldn’t recommend trying it.

Of course, you don’t have to worry, as you likely wouldn’t be able to try it anyway; the heating packs contain magnesium-aluminum powder and sodium bicarbonate, and most train stations won’t even allow you to bring them on.

If you’re camping outdoors, that could be a legitimate use case, but tell me, how many people camp outdoors every day?

Not to say 100%, but 99.9% of consumption scenarios simply don’t exist.

What’s even more ridiculous is its price.

What’s the current takeaway price?

Spend twenty to thirty bucks, and while it might not be the best meal, at least you can get a hot meal with meat and vegetables:

What level is your self-heating pot? It dares to sell for a similar price.

How much for instant noodles? Less than 5 bucks a bowl.

You’re charging twenty to thirty bucks, nearly five times more; anyone can do that math.

Naturally, people are less willing to continue spending on you.

In short, the self-heating pot’s value logic has been twisted from the start—you say it’s for emergencies, yet it’s five times more expensive than instant noodles; you say it’s delicious, yet it can’t even compare to the fried noodles downstairs; you say it’s convenient, yet it requires tearing apart a bunch of packaging, waiting fifteen minutes, and being careful not to burn your hands; you say it has too little meat, and it claims we “hope to include”****…

Honestly, I’ve rarely seen such a comprehensive small failure participant.

A person can have many flaws, but how can they have only flaws?

That’s truly frightening.

2

At this point, someone might say, if it doesn’t taste good, it can be improved; if it’s too expensive, the price can be lowered. Why can’t the self-heating pot do that?

Because it hasn’t spent its money on making the product taste good.

Instead, it’s been feeding it to traffic.

Here we have to mention the founder of the self-heating pot, a marketing master, the little Meng Huo of height limits, Cai Hongliang.

In the early days, he also worked for another well-known brand—Bai Cao Wei.

In 2016, he sold Bai Cao Wei to Haoxiangni, cashing out and leaving the scene. After tasting the sweet fruit, two years later, he founded another brand, the self-heating pot.

Those who have tasted the sweetness of capital always become superstitious about its power.

In his view, the product doesn’t matter; as long as the money is spent hard enough, I can fly in the sky.

So this time, his strategy was not much different from when he was doing Bai Cao Wei: choose a trendy product, burn money, and bombard with traffic.

The legend in the industry is that he directly spent 50 million out of an initial 80 million startup fund on advertising.

The self-heating pot even had a magical KPI: the brand budget had to be at least 300 million per year, and it was a hard KPI; if it wasn’t spent, bonuses were deducted.

Yes, you heard that right.

While other companies’ marketing departments worry about how to save money, their marketing department worries about how to “spend” the money.

So after that, stars like Lin Gengxin, Hua Chenyu, Wang Junkai, and Yu Shuxin… nearly half of the entertainment industry were all sponsored, with various variety shows, elevator TV ads, and live-stream sales, all without exception.

With a smooth series of tactics, they created the illusion that “the whole world is eating self-heating pots.”

Plus, heaven gave it a boost—during the pandemic, everyone was stuck at home.

The self-heating pot exploded in sales, raking in nearly 1 billion in annual sales in 2020, becoming the absolute leader in the self-heating food sector.

Honestly, the biggest hardship I faced during the pandemic was the self-heating pot.

Being stuck at home was already tragic enough, but the even greater tragedy was that I had to eat the self-heating pot.

But** Ah Cai still placed his bets wrong.**

He knew this thing had a low repurchase rate, but he never expected it to be this low.

Many people bought it out of curiosity, wanting to try it and ended up stocking up a bit.

It turns out curiosity really can kill the cat.

Brother, your life doesn’t have to be that torturous; after all, you’re not Shennong.

Buying it once or twice is fine, but buying it a third time is just not going to happen.

A consumer product that can’t retain repeat customers can only keep pulling in new ones.

Continuously pulling in new customers requires constantly pouring money into advertising, and constantly spending on advertising necessitates maintaining high prices, and maintaining high prices further drives people away… leading to a vicious cycle.

Especially when everyone can go out to eat again and order takeout, the self-heating pot’s sales naturally began to reveal their true colors.

3

In 2023, the self-heating pot originally wanted to find a “white knight” to fool Lianhua Health, the one selling MSG, to have it pay a high premium to acquire itself.

But when the Shanghai Stock Exchange saw this transaction, they sent an inquiry letter directly to Lianhua Health: a company with a net asset of only 140 million, and the premium rate reaches 970%-2000%?

You’re not trying to get acquired; you’re trying to do charity, right?

Five months later, the deal fell through.

With the acquisition failed and the blood transfusion cut off, the self-heating pot was left with just a breath.

Ultimately, the self-heating pot is a very typical example of the collapse of China’s new consumption bubble.

How crazy was the new consumption sector in those years in China?

For any category, as long as you can tell a good story, capital will dare to pour money in.

Ice cream could sell for 66 bucks, sparkling water could be valued at hundreds of billions, and even selling a bowl of noodles could raise over a hundred million in financing.

As for whether these things can last for a few years? Nobody cares.

Everyone was living in the same illusion—capital can solve everything.

So from 2020 to 2021, the self-heating pot lost 460 million, no one panicked; the sales expense rate exceeded 40%, no one panicked; the repurchase rate was pitifully low, yet still no one panicked.

But business laws don’t listen to your stories.

What happened? The self-heating pot inadvertently became a bloody example on our small failure list:

Something without a moat, a low repurchase rate, lacking profitability, and relying purely on burning money to survive, had already been waiting on the King of Hell’s list from day one.

Consumers aren’t stupid; once the novelty wears off, they’ll still do the math.

So ultimately, the self-heating pot was poisoned by its own business model, poisoned by the illusion that “capital can solve everything.”

The so-called $7.5 billion valuation was just a pie in the sky drawn by capital; the so-called benchmark for new consumption was just a game of scythes encouraging each other.

But when the market becomes rational, these bubbles will be punctured.

I am the mother of success, Newton. Follow me, and let there be no good leeks to cut in the world. Meeting adjourned.