In an interview recently, Song Jiahang, a young entrepreneur from Jiangsu who once had tens of millions of assets and now resides in the United States, harshly criticized the Chinese Communist Party’s extreme epidemic prevention and control policies during the pandemic, which caused a devastating blow to the private economy, leading to the collapse of his business empire and the fragmentation of his family.
Born in 1994, Song Jiahang started his career in the advertising industry at the age of 17. With diligence and business acumen, he gradually expanded into construction, renovation, real estate agency, fruit supermarkets, and hot pot restaurants, enjoying great success. However, since the outbreak of the COVID-19 pandemic at the end of 2019, the CCP’s stringent control policies have repeatedly dealt heavy blows to his business foundation, abruptly halting his commercial empire.
“In our small county, despite no confirmed cases for three years, it was sealed off dozens of times,” Song Jiahang expressed indignation. “The constantly changing policies made it impossible for businesses to survive. The authorities even nailed barriers to my shop door.” He emphasized that what destroyed people’s lives and businesses was not only the pandemic itself but also the extreme inconsistency and unpredictability of policy implementation.
“Some cities have tiered control measures, while others resort to blanket restrictions. You never know what will happen tomorrow, making it impossible to plan operations,” Song Jiahang criticized. “These leaders have never considered the needs of the grassroots people. The policies they enact lack logic and are just following the trend.”
Since the outbreak of the epidemic in Wuhan in December 2019 and the subsequent nationwide strict lockdown measures starting in February 2020, including multiple localized closures, large-scale nucleic acid testing, digital monitoring measures, and “dynamic zeroing,” it was not until December 2022 that the CCP officially announced the lifting of the lockdown.
During the lockdown, Song Jiahang described being stranded on the highway for two weeks. When driving from his hometown in Jiangsu, Lianyungang, to Shenzhen, differing local epidemic standards led to him being rejected entry at Shenzhen and upon returning to Lianyungang, further rejection, forcing him to abandon his car and climb over isolation barriers for survival.
Song Jiahang added that the community gates and unit doors were locked, making basic grocery shopping impossible. “But those with power and privilege can come out to sell groceries at inflated prices,” Song Jiahang angrily stated. He revealed that the district head’s relatives monopolized supplies, selling basic necessities at ten times the price, profiteering under the guise of a national crisis becoming an unspoken rule.
Furthermore, the epidemic led to government arrears becoming a legitimate reason for withholding payments. Song Jiahang disclosed that over 2 million RMB in payments from his construction projects were withheld by the government and influential figures, with family members exploiting the situation to parcel out the projects and exploit profits layer by layer.
Song Jiahang also lamented that the financial system under the Chinese Communist regime further undermined private enterprises. He mentioned facing a 1.2 million RMB loan due during the epidemic, with the bank promising renewal without issue before abruptly refusing due to a “higher comprehensive risk coefficient” after he managed to repay the loan, severing his business’s funding chain. He described this as the “last straw that broke the camel’s back.”
“We have never benefitted from so-called supportive policies; all we see is ruthless blanket measures,” Song expressed. “In three years of the epidemic, lockdown regulations were chaotic and illogical. ‘We might be closed twice in a month, or maybe once every ten days, dozens of times in three years’, businesses couldn’t operate normally.”
Ultimately, in December 2022, the CCP suddenly lifted the zeroing policy, leading to a chaotic situation where businesses like his were already at their wits’ end.
In early 2023, he began closing his stores one by one, selling properties and vehicles to pay employee salaries. “Under these unpredictable policies, reopening the stores had lost all meaning.”
“At the time when businesses needed support the most, banks reneged on promises, and local government lockdown policies were inconsistent, causing suppliers and employees to lose confidence, and landlords insisted on rent payments with no reductions,” eroding market confidence and leaving him unable to offload assets, only treating them as scrap.
On November 26, 2022, Song Jiahang participated in the Shanghai “Blank Paper Movement” out of frustration, resulting in immediate police summons for questioning. His conversation with the authorities revolved around how he obtained information and who organized the protest since being in business meant he should not be involved in such matters.
The “Blank Paper Movement” was a massive wave of protests triggered to mourn the Urumqi fire in Xinjiang, with the name originating from people raising blank papers in protest due to limited freedom of speech.
Following the police summons, Song Jiahang was detained for several days, and his business was thrown into chaos during his absence, with suppliers and employees demanding payment at the doorstep. An already precarious enterprise now faced a crisis of trust leading to a complete collapse.
“For the past three years, I’ve been patching up one hole after another. When I disappeared for a few days, rumors spread that I fled, and bad news traveled far, with suppliers coming to the door for payment,” he recounted. In the end, his business collapsed entirely, his marriage suffered, leading to divorce, and his child had to be left in the care of elderly parents.
Even after moving to the United States, pressure from authorities on his family continued. Two months ago, his parents were once again summoned, with the authorities hinting at potential daily visits should cooperation not be forthcoming, making Song feel trapped under the CCP’s transnational pressure.
“They are using the epidemic to gild themselves. Good enforcement of containment policies means promotion, but it’s the common people who suffer,” Song Jiahang pointed out the bureaucratic workings of the CCP. He disclosed that many grassroots officials sought to find faults to enhance their promotion chances, resorting to any means for so-called “achievements.”
Under the high-pressure policies, social conflicts continued to escalate. “People are already driving cars to hit pedestrians in our area, and many small business owners are committing suicide by jumping off buildings or into rivers, as reported daily in the news.” However, China’s strict censorship stifled public grievances, limiting avenues for expression. “We post something on Douyin, and the account is permanently banned; no room for dissent.”
In 2023, as his business completely folded and his family fell apart, Song Jiahang ultimately made the decision to leave China. “When the epidemic ended, so did my life,” he acknowledged having suicidal thoughts. “But my education taught me that life is precious; I had to leave and start anew.”
Now, in the United States, he is rebuilding his business, facing new challenges, yet the emotional scars remain unhealed. His experience is not just a personal tragedy but a true reflection of the struggles of countless small and medium-sized Chinese entrepreneurs under the CCP system.