China’s Pagoda Fruit Chain Faces Social‑Media Backlash Over High Prices and Near‑Thousand Store Closures

The comments sparked a wave of criticism on Weibo, where users posted vivid examples of what they consider prohibitive price tags: half a watermelon sold for 50 yuan (about $7), a box of grapes for 40 yuan, and eight mandarins for 90 yuan. Many commenters compared the price level to that of street‑vendor fruit, which is often half or a third of the Baiduoyuan price for the same items. The public’s reaction has been amplified by the hashtag #百果园钟薛高 (Baiduoyuan Zhongxuegao), which pairs Baiduoyuan with Zhongxuegao—an ice‑cream brand that fell out of favor after it advertised its “high‑end” product line at prices many consumers deemed unreasonable. The parallel has been drawn repeatedly: both brands are seen as luxury‑style enterprises that have alienated the average consumer with pricing that appears to place “status” above accessibility.

The backlash has turned the “educating consumers” line into a meme of corporate arrogance. Many Weibo commenters argue that the statement implies consumers who balk at the prices are “ignorant” or “immature,” turning a business strategy into a lecture. The perception is that the company is using “consumer education” as a cover for an inefficient supply chain and inflated pricing. The outcry is not limited to the comment; it coincides with a series of business‑performance issues that have already begun to erode Baiduoyuan’s reputation.

The chain has been rapidly shrinking. A single post on Weibo claimed that Baiduoyuan closed 965 stores—close to a thousand—in the past year, a contraction that the company’s financial filing for 2024 confirmed with a net loss of 386 million RMB. The closures are being linked to the pricing controversy, but also to a broader squeeze on the company’s business model. The same posts noted that the company has turned to forced discounts, such as 9.9‑yuan cherries, a move that many observers see as contradictory to its “high‑end, not‑cater‑to‑consumers” stance.

The backlash is not only about price. The chain has been accused of selling fruit that is not markedly better than what can be found at local street stalls. In some user comments, the fruit is described as “not necessarily superior” and the “high‑end” brand image is seen as an artificial “luxury” veneer placed on an ordinary commodity. The company’s attempts to reinforce a premium image have not resonated with the Chinese consumer, who increasingly looks for cost‑effective value.

Baiduoyuan’s story reflects broader shifts in China’s fresh‑food retail sector. Founded in 2001, with its origins in a 1997 startup and the opening of its first store in 2002, Baiduoyuan grew quickly through a franchise model that helped it become one of the country’s biggest fruit retailers. The corporate structure includes a main operating entity, Shenzhen Pagoda Fruit Industry (Group) Co., Ltd., a technology subsidiary in Singapore, and a network of partners such as Joy Wing Mau Group and Hao Nongfu in distribution, and large retailers including Sam’s Club, Freshippo, and JD.com. The board also lists senior executives – Tian Xiqiu (co‑founder and vice chairman), Xu Yanlin (president), Zhu Qidong (vice president and merchandising head), among others – and non‑executive directors such as Pan Pan and Hu Qihao.

Industry analysts point to a confluence of factors behind Baiduoyuan’s predicament. The fresh‑fruit market has become increasingly competitive, with fresh‑food e‑commerce platforms, community group‑buying, and “premium” supermarket formats all vying for consumer attention. The fruit‑retail industry is also highly loss‑prone: loss rates for fresh fruit in China often range from 35 % to 45 %, far higher than in developed markets. Although Baiduoyuan invested heavily in its own processing and distribution centers to push down loss rates to roughly 5 % in its own facilities, the company still suffered a massive net loss, highlighting the difficulty of controlling costs across a long, perishable supply chain.

The franchise model that powered Baiduoyuan’s rapid expansion is also a point of risk. In an economic downturn, franchisees’ ability to absorb shocks is limited. The near‑thousand‑store shutdown illustrates how a wave of store closures can quickly become a reputation crisis for a brand that relies on a consistent, high‑quality customer experience. The franchising model may have led to uneven service and quality, amplifying the negative sentiment.

The episode is a window onto wider issues in China’s consumer landscape. A slowdown in disposable incomes has led consumers to prioritize price‑performance over status, a trend sometimes described as “consumption downgrade.” While some brands have successfully cultivated a “high‑end” brand identity, the Baiduoyuan case shows that such a strategy can backfire when the consumer base turns toward more cost‑effective alternatives. The mass store closures also translate into significant employment losses, underscoring how retail disruptions ripple through communities and the broader economy.

The Baiduoyuan case has already prompted responses from regulators. The Consumer Rights Protection Committee has been cited in media coverage for stepping up scrutiny over the brand’s alleged food‑safety lapses, including reports of expired or “overnight” fruit. These incidents have heightened concerns over food safety, an issue that now weighs heavily on consumer trust in China’s rapidly expanding food‑retail sector. The public outcry suggests that Chinese shoppers are willing to “educate” companies by shifting their purchasing power elsewhere, a lesson for any company that thinks its market position can be maintained without responding to the demands of the modern consumer.

Overall, Baiduoyuan’s story is not simply a case of one company’s misstep; it is a snapshot of the challenges facing Chinese retail and the broader economy. The confluence of high pricing, an out‑of‑touch corporate philosophy, aggressive expansion, supply‑chain inefficiency, and the current environment of consumer caution has converged into a crisis that highlights the need for businesses to adapt their strategies to an increasingly discerning market. Whether Baiduoyuan can re‑orient its approach—balancing premium positioning with value, tightening supply‑chain losses, and re‑building consumer trust—will determine if the company can survive the current wave of criticism or become another cautionary tale for China’s high‑growth, high‑expectation retail sector.