“Wu Xiangdong is a ray of light for Chinese baijiu today.” This is not my words. It was a sudden remark by Fu Chaoyang of Jiangsu Jinyue Trading during a chat. More importantly, Jinyue Trading has no business relationship with Wu Xiangdong's Jindong Group—this is the true feeling of an industry veteran. In the past two years, the most common phrase in the baijiu circle is “the industry is over.” Over, so talk less; over, so do less; over, so resting and recuperating is the most correct choice. Fu Chaoyang says that many people are now habitually self-deprecating and habitually negating—as if just saying “baijiu is over” can explain all difficulties, and then they don't have to make harder choices. And Wu Xiangdong's stepping forward has at least awakened some baijiu people: Shouting loudly and going against the tide may not succeed, but with silence, the industry will definitely not get out of the trough. Bosses who attended the Wan Shang Alliance conference, after listening to Wu Xiangdong's speech, may not immediately place orders, but they will linger a bit longer when leaving, and chat a few more sentences: “Should we still do something?” Fu Chaoyang says that the metaphor of “light” does not mean Wu Xiangdong can illuminate the industry into daylight, but that in this period when everyone avoids expressing, he makes some people willing to speak and act again. Therefore, we should also re-examine Wu Xiangdong. Chinese Baijiu in Collective Silence Chinese baijiu is in a difficult trough, and this needs no explanation. Whether it is the most difficult moment is hard to say, but it is definitely the moment that most needs confidence. In the glory days of baijiu, many people spoke; but in the downturn, Chinese baijiu has fallen into a collective silence of “ten thousand horses all mute.” We can fully understand this situation. What is there to say? What's the point of saying? Without brilliant performance to support, many expressions seem redundant and meaningless. According to our research and interviews, Chinese baijiu currently has three particularly typical attitudes: First: Treating rest and recuperation as the end. More and more people no longer discuss how to win, only how not to lose, or even how to lose not too ugly. Meetings are held more frequently, but words become fewer: controlling volume, clearing inventory, stabilizing prices, shrinking... each statement is correct; but connected together, it's just one sentence: survive first, talk later. Second: Treating short-term safety as the only rationality. Innovation becomes a risky word. Many brands prefer to use more cautious, more homogeneous actions to exchange for predictability, and dare not touch any new attempts that may bring fluctuations. Distributors are similar: they would rather hold cash tightly than invest in new channels or new organizations. Third: Treating “the industry is over” as the answer to everything. When “the decline of baijiu” becomes the easiest consensus in group chats, people easily stop thinking: Since it's all over, why bother? Since it's all over, failure is not shameful. The true meaning of “ten thousand horses all mute” is not that there is no voice, but that no one is willing to bear the cost of speaking out; not that there are no ideas, but that no one is willing to turn ideas into action. Deeper, it is that more and more people no longer firmly believe in the future of Chinese baijiu. At such a moment, a person who is still acting, still innovating, and still shouting loudly will appear like light—not because Wu Xiangdong is omnipotent, nor because Zhenjiu Lidu's performance is dazzling, but because today's Chinese baijiu is extremely scarce of such a Wu Xiangdong. In the Darkest Hour, Who Stands Firm? In Chinese baijiu, Wu Xiangdong is definitely an iconic figure. It is too easy to write Wu Xiangdong as a successful entrepreneur—Jinliufu, Huazhi Liquor Store, Zhenjiu Lidu, each experience is enough to be written into business textbooks. What we want to discuss today is: why is it now that he is called a ray of light by some distributors? This is a very high evaluation. I think the answer is not how much more money he has made, but that he has taken three more difficult and more counter-trend actions during the downturn.

  1. When everyone is contracting, he is organizing and acting Downturns are the easiest to scatter: distributors scatter, teams scatter, confidence scatters, and words scatter. At this time, the most scarce ability is not selling goods, but “reorganizing people.” One of Wu Xiangdong's most noticeable actions in the past year is the high-frequency organizational promotion around the “Wan Shang Alliance”: holding meetings, creating momentum, setting mechanisms, explaining directions, and pulling the originally conservative channel sentiment back to the action side. You can question the cost and efficiency of this organizational approach, but it is hard to deny its value: it is trying to rebuild a sense of order—and in a trough, a sense of order is more precious than anything. Many in the industry actually want to do it, but dare not. Because organizing means two high risks: First, you have to stand in front and bear the flood of doubts; second, you have to produce staged results to offset the doubts. There are not many people willing to put themselves into these two things today.
  2. When everyone stops talking about the future, he is loudly speaking about his belief in Chinese baijiu What I admire most about Wu Xiangdong is that he still dares to talk about the long-term value of baijiu when the industry is down. Not the kind of empty chicken soup, but an expression with love and mission: baijiu is a Chinese national essence, part of Chinese cultural genes, and it will surely recover. You can certainly disagree with this optimism, but you must see: when an industry falls into self-doubt, the easiest thing is that everyone stops talking about any meaning. But for an industry like baijiu, what is ultimately sold is not just alcohol content, but culture, identity, social interaction, and emotion. Once meaning collapses, the value system collapses; once confidence scatters, the channel is left with only bargaining and haggling. So he continues to talk about this, not only to consumers, but also to peers, distributors, and teams: Are you still willing to believe that Chinese baijiu is worth doing? In the industry, talking about meaning is actually risky, because it sounds like emotion. But in a trough, what the industry lacks most is precisely positive emotion: the kind that neither incites nor gives up, but pushes people back to action.
  3. When everyone is “hiding from the camera,” he personally goes down to build IP A person who has already achieved fame and success, at this age, still personally makes short videos, expresses, and builds entrepreneur IP—this is very rare in the baijiu circle. Many people may understand it as publicity, but I think it is an unconventional business method: In the era of information fragmentation, trust is no longer built by a slogan, but by continuous appearance, continuous explanation, and continuous fulfillment. When an entrepreneur personally goes down, it is essentially doing three things:
  • Re-explain the brand and direction externally;
  • Re-unite the team and channel internally;
  • Re-fight for the right to speak in the industry. These actions do not guarantee success, and nothing can guarantee success, but they at least prove one thing: Wu Xiangdong has not retreated. Failed but Never Defeated What truly moves people about Wu Xiangdong is not his success, but that he has also lost many times, yet never surrendered to failure. Wu Xiangdong once tried the B2B platform “Dida” and also did the model innovation of “Yitan Haojiu,” but not all succeeded—the investment was not small, and the cost of trial and error was not light. People who have achieved great success are often burdened by their fame, afraid to innovate again, afraid to subvert themselves. The real sign of an entrepreneur getting old is not age, but starting to fear: fear of making mistakes, fear of fluctuations, fear of being questioned, fear of no return after investment, so they treat “stability” as the only rationality. And Wu Xiangdong's scarcity today lies in: He still allows himself to try and error, and is still willing to bear the cost of innovation. This is why Fu Chaoyang said he is like a ray of light. When the entire industry is becoming more conservative, Wu Xiangdong uses action to call for action, and uses shouting to inspire baijiu people: you can choose to act, choose to believe, and choose to believe in the future once more. Wu Xiangdong's True Contribution to Chinese Baijiu Wu Xiangdong is the chairman of Jindong Group, but he is not the savior of Chinese baijiu. Whether Chinese baijiu can recover involves too many structural variables: consumption, population, scenarios, channels, supply efficiency, and no one can change the macro by themselves. But we must see that Wu Xiangdong is trying to restore a bit of hope to Chinese baijiu in his own way.
  • Dare to speak: when everyone is cautious, he is willing to loudly shout out direction and belief;
  • Dare to organize: when the manufacturer-distributor relationship is on the verge of collapse, he is willing to come forward to rebuild order and alliance;
  • Dare to try and error: when the whole industry emphasizes stability and conservatism, he is still willing to bear the risk of innovation. The baijiu industry certainly needs product strength, channel strength, and brand strength, but in difficult times, it first needs a spiritual foundation: Not self-denial, not lying flat, not using “the industry is over” to end thinking. Today, when we evaluate Wu Xiangdong, we need not deify him, nor be harsh. We appreciate his courage to go against the current, and we believe that many liquor merchants and baijiu people have been inspired by him to join in, eventually converging into a different force. Whether baijiu can recover ultimately depends on the whole industry working together. But to recover, first someone must believe it is worth recovering—and be willing to act on it. At a time when everyone in baijiu is self-doubting, the industry desperately needs to see someone still willing to go all out. The real problem in difficult times is never that there is no road, but that no one walks. Light may not lead you out of the darkness, but it will make you willing to keep moving forward. I think this may be Wu Xiangdong's most important contribution to the Chinese baijiu industry.