呷哺呷哺：從「一人火鍋霸主」到被遺忘的台資品牌
——為什麼曾經排隊兩小時的網紅火鍋，如今卻門可羅雀？

曾經風靡全中國的「一人一鍋」火鍋品牌呷哺呷哺，正陷入品牌迷失與轉型困境。從1998年台商賀光啟在北京西單開出第一家店，憑藉吧台式小火鍋與超高性價比迅速崛起，呷哺呷哺曾被譽為「火鍋界的麥當勞」。在2014年達到巔峰，並在香港主板上市，全國門市超過500家，年營收突破22億元人民幣，更成功在香港上市，市值一度超過200億港元。那段時間，排隊兩小時吃一頓呷哺，對很多上班族來說是習以為常。

呷哺的成功祕訣在於極致標準化與性價比策略。不鏽鋼吧台、電磁爐設計，大幅提升翻桌率；獨家麻醬蘸料創造出「呷哺味」的品牌記憶點；更自建內蒙古肉廠，把食材成本控制得比競爭對手更低。然而進入2016年後，呷哺呷哺卻走上錯誤的轉型道路。為追求高端市場，公司推出副品牌「湊湊火鍋」，強打「火鍋＋奶茶」的新潮組合，每家店投入成本高達500萬元。然而，「湊湊」在人均150元的價格帶中，打不過海底撈的品牌力，也失去呷哺原有的平價優勢。更糟的是，為扶持副牌，呷哺呷哺母品牌的精英團隊被大量抽調，導致品控與營運雙雙下滑。

2018年起，呷哺又做出一系列激怒消費者的調價動作。28元午餐套餐漲至45元，肉量卻減少三成；原本免費暢飲的檸檬茶，變成每杯8元的單點商品。這些改動被消費者批評為「漲價不漲質」，網路平台如大眾點評的負評明顯上升，「以前吃得起，現在吃不起」成為熱詞。雪上加霜的是，2020年為擴張規模，呷哺開始開放加盟，導致品控失序。有媒體曝光山東某加盟店回收火鍋油再利用，供應鏈也因內蒙古肉廠的污染問題出現中斷，部分門店只能改用低品質肉品替代。同時，公司高層動盪不安，創辦人賀光啟在2021年回歸後，一年內換三任CEO，決策混亂進一步拖累復興步伐。

與此同時，整個火鍋市場也發生劇烈變化。20元即可飽餐一頓的張亮麻辣燙、預製菜火鍋品牌如鍋圈食匯迅速崛起，瓜分呷哺的核心客群。年輕人開始追求「可拍照、可打卡」的火鍋新體驗：海底撈有「扯面表演」，楠火鍋有「雪山冰」裝置，而呷哺的吧台設計則被批評為「像員工食堂」。此外，呷哺在數字化行銷上也全面落後。抖音團購榜前十不見其名，會員制度仍依賴實體積分卡，無法融入新零售小程序生態。

面對困境，呷哺開始進行「斷臂求生」。2022至2023年，公司關閉近90家虧損門店，並嘗試重推28元套餐。然而被消費者發現牛肉改為合成肉，信任感進一步瓦解。2024年則試圖多角化經營，包括將茶飲品牌「茶米茶」獨立營運，均價12元，試圖對抗蜜雪冰城，但聲量始終難以突破。同時，公司也涉足預製菜電商，但火鍋底料銷售額不到海底撈的十分之一。根據2024年第一季度財報，呷哺營收年減23%，虧損達1.8億元，市值僅剩22億港元，相較巔峰時期縮水九成。

呷哺呷哺的困境，折射出台資品牌在中國市場的集體迷惘。企業未能準確判讀「消費降級」與「體驗升級」的雙重趨勢，被卡在不上不下的中間價格帶；曾經的供應鏈優勢如今成為轉型包袱，錯過了預製菜這波紅利；而台灣餐飲的吧台快餐文化，無法適應中國消費者愈加社交化與場景化的餐飲需求。正如一位餐飲分析師所言：「它教會了中國人一個人吃火鍋不可恥，卻成了被市場拋棄的老師。」

今天的呷哺，像極當年的永和豆漿——一個開創品類的台資品牌，卻敗給更懂本地市場的新興勢力。若無法徹底重構其商業模式，呷哺的命運恐怕只剩被併購或走向終結。

Xiabu Xiabu: From “One-Person Hot Pot King” to a Forgotten Taiwanese Brand
— Why the once wildly popular hot pot chain that drew two-hour queues is now empty and ignored

Once a sensation across China, the “one-person-one-pot” hot pot pioneer Xiabu Xiabu is now facing brand identity confusion and a difficult transformation. The company began in 1998 when Taiwanese entrepreneur Ho Kuang-Chi opened the first location in Beijing’s Xidan. Featuring bar-style seating and affordable personal hot pots, the brand quickly rose to fame, earning the nickname “the McDonald’s of hot pot.” By 2014, Xiabu Xiabu had reached its peak with over 500 stores nationwide, annual revenue surpassing 2.2 billion RMB, and a successful IPO on the Hong Kong Stock Exchange, where its market value once exceeded HK$20 billion. Back then, waiting two hours in line for a meal at Xiabu Xiabu was commonplace for urban office workers.

Xiabu Xiabu’s rise was driven by extreme standardization and high cost-efficiency. Stainless steel countertops and induction cookers boosted table turnover, while a proprietary sesame dipping sauce created a signature “Xiabu flavor” that built strong brand loyalty. They even built their own meat processing plant in Inner Mongolia to lower supply costs and outperform competitors.

However, beginning in 2016, the company took a wrong turn in its transformation strategy. In pursuit of the high-end market, Xiabu launched a premium sub-brand, “CouCou Hot Pot,” promoting a trendy “hot pot + milk tea” concept. Each location required an investment of over 5 million RMB. But CouCou, priced at 150 RMB per person, couldn’t compete with Haidilao’s branding and lost Xiabu’s original affordability edge. Worse still, elite teams from the parent brand were reassigned to support CouCou, leading to deteriorating quality control and operational performance at Xiabu Xiabu.

From 2018 onwards, a series of controversial price hikes further alienated core customers. The 28 RMB lunch set rose to 45 RMB, while meat portions were cut by 30%. Free lemon tea refills became 8 RMB per glass. Consumers criticized the move as “raising prices without improving quality,” and negative reviews on platforms like Dianping surged. Phrases like “I used to afford it, now I can’t” became common.

Adding to its woes, Xiabu began franchising in 2020 to accelerate expansion, resulting in serious quality control issues. One franchised store in Shandong was exposed for reusing hot pot oil. Compounding the damage, a pollution incident at the Inner Mongolia meat plant disrupted the supply chain, forcing some locations to use lower-quality meats. Internal leadership turmoil didn’t help—after founder Ho Kuang-Chi returned in 2021, the company cycled through three CEOs in a year, causing further strategic instability.

Meanwhile, the hot pot industry was undergoing major shifts. New challengers like Zhang Liang Mala Tang, offering full meals for just 20 RMB, and ready-to-eat hot pot brands like Guoquan Shihui quickly eroded Xiabu’s market share. Young consumers began gravitating toward more Instagram-worthy experiences: Haidilao offered noodle-pulling performances, while Nan Hot Pot featured “snow mountain” dry ice effects. Xiabu’s bar-style seating came to be seen as resembling a dull staff canteen. On top of this, the brand fell behind in digital marketing. It was absent from Douyin’s (TikTok China) top hot pot group-buying charts in 2023 and still relied on outdated physical membership cards, missing out on the mini-program ecosystem dominating China’s new retail scene.

Facing these mounting pressures, Xiabu attempted a desperate turnaround. From 2022 to 2023, the company closed nearly 90 loss-making stores and tried relaunching the 28 RMB lunch set—but customers soon discovered the beef had been replaced with synthetic meat, further eroding trust. In 2024, it diversified into new ventures, spinning off its milk tea brand “Cha Mi Cha” (average price: 12 RMB) in a bid to challenge rivals like Mixue Bingcheng. However, the brand struggled to gain traction. Xiabu also entered the e-commerce space selling hot pot soup bases, but its sales volume was less than one-tenth of Haidilao’s.

According to its Q1 2024 financial report, Xiabu’s revenue dropped 23% year-on-year, with a net loss of 180 million RMB. Its market cap has shrunk to just HK$2.2 billion—90% down from its peak.

Xiabu Xiabu’s decline reflects the broader struggle of Taiwanese brands in the Chinese market. The company failed to anticipate the dual forces of consumption downgrade and experience upgrade, getting stuck in an awkward mid-tier pricing zone. What was once a supply chain advantage became a burden in the era of ready-made meals. Meanwhile, Taiwan’s “bar-counter dining” culture didn’t translate well to China’s increasingly social and experiential dining expectations.

As one food industry analyst put it:
“Xiabu Xiabu taught China that eating hot pot alone isn’t shameful—but became the teacher the market abandoned.”

Today’s Xiabu resembles the story of Yonghe Soy Milk—a pioneering Taiwanese brand that ultimately lost to better localized, nimbler competitors. Without a full-scale reinvention of its business model, Xiabu Xiabu’s future may be limited to acquisition… or extinction.