The Unspoken Divide: How Yongkun's Gold Scheme Operated Like a Ponzi
The story of Yongkun Mall's collapse is a textbook example of a Ponzi scheme, meticulously executed and disguised over a decade. It ensnared over 10,000 victims, siphoning off an estimated 2 to 5 billion RMB, predominantly from wealthy individuals in Zhejiang province – the very people who had accumulated significant assets through economic booms and property demolitions. Many of these victims, including Yongkun's own employees, lost their entire life savings.
Here's how this elaborate "golden cicada shedding its shell" operation unfolded:
The Deceptive Foundations (First 3 Years: Building Trust with "Real Gold")
Yongkun understood the power of trust. In its initial phase, it acted as a legitimate gold trading platform. Customers who bought investment gold could withdraw physical gold upon maturity, and the promised 9% annual returns arrived promptly. This appeared far more lucrative than traditional bank deposits. To bolster this façade, the company invested heavily in superficial displays: genuine gold in showrooms, but the "warehouses" were filled with brass, and bank gold reserves were mere photoshopped images. This convinced shrewd Zhejiang business owners and demolition beneficiaries that they had stumbled upon a hidden gem, leading to rapid word-of-mouth expansion.
The Snowballing Illusion (Middle 4 Years: Robbing Peter to Pay Paul)
As Yongkun's reputation spread, new investor capital became the primary source for paying off older clients' interest. For instance, with 1 billion RMB in principal, a 9% annual interest payout would require 90 million RMB. However, the actual market volatility of gold during those years only offered a maximum return of 150 million RMB, leaving a deficit of 75 million RMB. This shortfall was covered by a multi-level marketing (MLM) recruitment model. Promising a staggering 29% commission for developing new "downlines" (meaning 290,000 RMB for every 1 million RMB invested by a recruit), Yongkun incentivized its staff and even local community members to pull in their relatives and neighbors. This viral recruitment fueled the Ponzi structure, with even company employees succumbing to the allure, investing their entire savings and borrowed money.
The Evasive Endgame (Final 3 Years: Delay Tactics and Covert Transfers)
In the last three years, as gold prices surged (reaching 767 RMB/gram in 2025 from an earlier 560 RMB/gram, implying massive promised payouts), Yongkun began its exit strategy. While investors were due substantial gains, the funds had already been moved. The company employed various delay tactics to string investors along:
- Debt-to-Points Conversion: Offering virtual points that could supposedly be redeemed for gold, but in reality, only allowed exchange for copper-plated iron pieces.
- "Lock-up" Threats: Scaring investors with high withdrawal fees, urging them to keep their money in to "earn more."
- Fake System Upgrades: The mobile app would conveniently undergo "maintenance," disabling withdrawal functions.
Simultaneously, a sophisticated money laundering operation was underway. Funds were transferred to hundreds of shell companies spanning jewelry, e-commerce, and supply chain businesses. Franchisees' daily revenues were forcibly collected and diverted to cover interest payments, while executives secured overseas properties and created fabricated gold insurance policies (one claiming 4.1 billion RMB in value with only 4,000 RMB paid in premiums).
The inevitable collapse finally occurred, with Yongkun's boss, Wang Guohai, reportedly escaping to the U.S. on a private jet, his timing impeccable.
The Unseen Cost: A Lesson in Preserving Wealth
The most poignant aspect of this decade-long "pig butchering" scam is the sheer scale of personal devastation. One three-generation Zhejiang family, for instance, lost 20 million RMB – the accumulated wealth of a lineage that included a wartime codebreaker, 1960s university graduates, top-tier doctors, and Fortune 500 executives. Three generations of hard-earned assets vanished at the hands of a single scammer.
This tragedy underscores a profound lesson: preserving wealth is an even more profound wisdom than accumulating it. Many successful individuals, whether self-employed bosses, demolition beneficiaries, or hardworking people with savings, often shy away from simply depositing money in banks for modest returns. Instead, they seek higher returns through entrepreneurship, investment, or even gambling – a desire for accelerated wealth that can make them vulnerable to schemes like Yongkun's. The story highlights how even well-intentioned individuals seeking to grow their wealth can, by placing "all their eggs in one basket" and chasing unrealistic returns, unwittingly expose themselves to catastrophic losses.
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