When Dreams Collapse

Originally published on Substack.

2025 has been a brutal year for the economy. The property market has slumped, exports have slowed, and competition across industries has intensified. Many businesses are barely staying afloat.

In just four months, five Chinese entrepreneurs—Bi Guangjun, Liu Wenchao, Zeng Yuzhou, Wang Linpeng, and Sun Yin—died by suicide or illness (?). Each from a different industry, yet their endings were eerily similar.

They weren’t just numbers or corporate headlines. They were real people—fathers, friends, and dreamers. And their stories, painful as they are, echo something that many of us can understand: the crushing weight of responsibility when life gets too heavy to bear.

1. Bi Guangjun: A Father’s Silent Struggle

Bi Guangjun was 56 years old and built his textile business, Golden Idea Textiles, from scratch. He started selling cloth on the streets at 16 and eventually turned his small operation into a company with billions in annual revenue.

But what people really remember him for wasn’t the business—it was his son.

Bi’s son, Changyu, has autism. Instead of hiding it, Bi turned his son’s crayon drawings into fabric prints and launched a charity brand in his name. His company wasn’t just about profits; it was about dignity, creativity, and love.

When exports dried up in 2023, Bi tried everything—taking out high-interest loans, mortgaging assets, covering payroll out of his own pocket. But the debts kept piling up. On April 16, 2025, he jumped from the 28th floor of a building. No note. No goodbye.

They said it was sudden. But maybe the truth is, he’d been falling for a long time—quietly, alone.

2. Liu Wenchao: The Engineer Who Couldn’t Ask for Help

Liu Wenchao, 54, founded Xizi Elevator, one of China’s top elevator manufacturers. He wasn’t flashy—a quiet, brilliant technician who built a company worth billions.

But success on the outside doesn’t always reflect what’s happening inside.

As China’s property market collapsed, elevator orders dried up. Liu pushed through—smiling at conferences, giving technical talks, pretending everything was fine. But friends noticed he wasn’t sleeping well, had started isolating, and seemed increasingly on edge.

On June 3, just days after a public event where he looked full of energy, Liu jumped to his death from his office building.

If a man who devoted his life to safety could choose such an end, what kind of pain was he hiding?

3. Zeng Yuzhou: The Collapse of a Prepaid Empire

Zeng Yuzhou, 53, was the founder of Liang Home, a home renovation chain that grew rapidly across China by relying on upfront payments from customers.

It worked—until it didn’t.

When the real estate market tanked, those prepaid funds ran dry. Customers and employees were left scrambling. On July 17, Liang Home abruptly shut down. That same night, Zeng died by suicide.

In recent years, he reportedly told friends, “Every day I wake up in anxiety.” No one thought much of it at the time.

Now, those words feel like a cry for help no one truly heard.

4. Wang Linpeng: The Lonely Giant of Home Retail

Wang Linpeng, 57, was once among China’s richest men. He founded home furnishing giant Easyhome (Juran Zhijia), with over a hundred billion RMB in annual revenue. He was admired as a visionary and loved hosting friends at his Beijing home.

But behind the scenes, his empire was cracking.

Debt ballooned, his company faced legal investigations, and his assets were frozen. Though authorities released him from detainment, the pressure didn’t let up. On July 27, just four days after returning to work, he ended his life at home.

Wang’s death shocked the industry. He seemed to have it all—money, experience, connections. But in the end, those things didn’t protect him from despair.

If you’ve ever felt helpless in the face of bills or expectations, even for a moment, you may understand a small part of what he carried.

5. Sun Yin: A Visionary’s Quiet Exit

At 64, Sun Yin was more than a real estate developer. She built Tianlang Group not just as a business, but as a way to preserve local culture. Her projects blended architecture with education, film, and community memory.

She once said, “I don’t want to be called a ‘female entrepreneur.’ I’m just someone with ideas.”

In her final years, she battled a serious illness but kept working. On June 19, 2025, she passed away from complications. Though her death wasn’t suicide, her relentless dedication—and silence about her health—mirrored the emotional weight others bore.

Even the strongest people get tired. Even those with resources eventually run out of time.

6. They Were Just Like Us

It’s easy to think these business leaders lived in another world. But listen closely to their struggles:

• They stressed over cash flow.

• They worried about their kids.

• They feared letting others down.

• They hid their pain to protect their image.

Does that really sound so different?

You and I might not have millions in debt, but we know what it’s like to lie awake at night, unsure how to pay next month’s rent. We’ve all put on a brave face at work, only to break down alone later.

These men and women were not weak. They were simply human—and overwhelmed.

7. Why Can’t We Talk About Failing?

What truly killed these entrepreneurs wasn’t just money trouble. It was shame. In China—and in many places—failing in business feels like failing as a person. Asking for help feels like admitting defeat.

But no one should have to carry that alone.

Mental health services are still scarce. There’s no personal bankruptcy law that lets someone start over. And online, judgment is everywhere. One mistake, and the world piles on.

We need a culture where people can say, “I’m not okay,” and still be respected. Where failure is part of the journey—not the end of it.

A Final Note

Bi Guangjun, Liu Wenchao, Zeng Yuzhou, Wang Linpeng, Sun Yin—they weren’t just CEOs. They were husbands, parents, mentors, neighbors.

They tried. They fought. They gave all they had.

Their deaths are not just business losses. They’re reminders: anyone can break. Even the strongest.

We may not be able to change the economy overnight. But we can choose to be kinder. Listen more. Judge less. Call that friend you haven’t heard from in a while. Offer help even when someone says they’re “fine.”

Because life is heavy enough already. Let’s not carry it alone.

Even in the darkest night, a small light—a word, a gesture—can make all the difference.