Airlines Abandon China: Billion-Yuan Terminals Deserted, Airports Turn Ghost Towns!

Foreign tourists stay away. International airlines slash routes. China is being abandoned. Billion yuan terminals with no passengers. Airports left empty. Chinese-American tourists scammed in China. Vacation turns into nightmare. Vows never to return. China's tourism industry suffers severe losses. Even domestic travelers are boycotting. Job market feels like hell. Returned Chinese student with UK master's cries. Can't find work. Now carrying bricks on construction sites. China's fruit market in free fall. Fruits that don't rot for half a year. Hard like plastic. Eat them and you get poison. Hundreds of millions stop buying. Visa-free does not equal safety. Visa-free policy for Russia-China sparked security concerns. Happy Lunar New Year from the decoding China team. Wishing you prosperity in the year of the horse. Foreign tourists stay away. International airlines slash routes. China is being abandoned. Billion yuan terminals with no passengers. Airports left empty. Despite China implementing multiple visa-free policies for many countries, the number of international visitors continues to decline sharply. There has been widespread online discussion recently about how shockingly empty China's airports have become. Videos posted by residents from various regions show large-scale, modern-designed airports with almost no passengers, even at major aviation hubs. In Guangdong, one traveler expressed disbelief that only two people were going through security. In Shanghai, the international section of Pudong airport has been described as unusually quiet. Even Beijing Daxing International Airport, once promoted as a national infrastructure showcase, has appeared in videos with unexpectedly low foot traffic. Observers note that while China's international hubs are desolate, neighboring countries are benefiting. We wonder where all the foreigners have gone. One blogger who shared real-life experiences wrote, but Japan, Vietnam, Thailand, and India are drawing more visitors every year. True openness isn't just about visa-free entry. It's about openness in culture, media, internet access, finance, and education. If China won't provide that, foreigners and foreign investment will flow to countries like India and Vietnam. The reasons foreigners are avoiding China are complex but clear. The country's internet firewall blocks most foreign apps, cutting off the convenience of platforms like Google, WhatsApp, or Instagram. Affordable accommodation options like Airbnb have disappeared, replaced by requirements to book hotels licensed for foreign guests, who must also undergo police registration. These bureaucratic hurdles, combined with Beijing's tightening national security laws, have created a climate of hostility and fear. Adding to the problem, several violent attacks on foreigners were reported last year, further discouraging visitors. The reality is sobering. Without genuine openness, cultural, political, and economic, China risks not just empty airports but long-term marginalization on the world stage. Compounding the issue is the withdrawal and downsizing of foreign airlines. Multiple carriers have reduced or exited the Chinese market, including Virgin Atlantic, Qantas, Scandinavian Airlines, and LOT Polish Airlines. This creates a vicious cycle for China's aviation industry, driving even fewer foreign passengers to return. Not only are foreign tourists staying away, but domestic passenger traffic is also dismal. For years, China has treated airports as critical strategic infrastructure, on par with high-speed rail and metro systems. Currently, the country has 259 civilian transport airports. Despite increasingly clear signs of overcapacity, the construction push has not slowed. The race to build airports is not limited to major cities. Medium-sized cities, small towns, and even county-level governments have joined in. Over the past decade, China has built more than 70 new airports, 41 of them in county-level areas. Some provinces have achieved the goal of one airport per city, while others have gone further, aspiring to one airport per county. Problems arise when airport construction bears little relation to actual demand. In such cases, the widely cited one-to-eight return-on-investment ratio for civil aviation collapses in practice, becoming closer to eight-to-one. A representative example is Fuyuan Airport in Heilongjiang Province, often labeled the most deserted airport in China. The airport operates only a handful of domestic routes, averaging fewer than three flights per day. In 2018, it handled fewer than 60,000 passengers for the entire year, less than 200 passengers per day. At times, the number of airport staff reportedly exceeded the number of travelers. This situation is far from unique. Chinese media have reported on an airport in a prefecture-level city in Hunan Province that saw just 19 passengers in a single day. Airports like these are almost guaranteed to operate at a loss. Yet shutting them down is seen as wasting investment, while keeping them open imposes a long-term burden on local finances. To keep such airports running, some local governments have resorted to coercive measures. In Shanxi Province, officials were once instructed to prioritize air travel for official business. These measures are widely viewed as symbolic and unsustainable, masking structural problems rather than addressing them. Alongside underused airports, there are numerous cases of abandoned or unfinished airport projects. Some have consumed hundreds of millions of yuan before being left idle for years, overgrown with weeds and filled with rusting equipment. Some Chinese officials have openly admitted that when meeting potential investors, the first question is often whether a locality has an airport. As a result, airports have become symbols of competitiveness, directly tied to the political performance evaluations of local leaders. The more projects approved, the greater the scope for inflated budgets, distribution of vested interests, and corruption. As early as a decade ago, China's civil aviation authorities warned that out of roughly 200 airports nationwide at the time, only about 50 were profitable, with the remainder operating at a loss. At the macro level, the airport construction boom is feeding into a broader local government debt crisis that has spiraled out of control. China's overseas airport projects have also come under scrutiny. In Nepal, the Pokhara International Airport, part of the Belt and Road Initiative, is under investigation for alleged cost inflation, poor construction quality, and limited prospects for generating sufficient revenue to repay Chinese loans. Despite the absence of regular international flights, Nepal has already begun repaying its loan to the Export-Import Bank of China, underscoring the financial risks involved. These developments highlight a fundamental reality. Airports are not a miracle cure for economic growth. The much-touted 1-to-8 input-output ratio only holds under conditions of scientific planning and efficient operation. When construction is driven by political performance metrics, interregional rivalry, and distorted financial incentives, airports become liabilities rather than engines of development. Chinese-American tourists scammed in China. Vacation turns into nightmare, vows never to return. China's tourism industry suffers severe losses. Even domestic travelers are boycotting. During a recent return trip to China, one Chinese-American tourist said she and her family had visited more than 10 cities. But the most disturbing experience took place in Yangshuo, Jilin. They joined a two-day, one-night tour advertised as having no shopping stops. Yet in reality, the group was taken to four shopping locations in succession. From the outset, the trip was no longer tourism, but a deliberately engineered chain of forced consumption. According to the account, tourists were forced to wake up early, eat hastily, and board the bus, quickly becoming trapped in a closed script with no exit. Children were unaware of what was happening, while adults recognized the problem early on but had no ability to refuse. The first stop was a cruise on the Li River, where sales were still disguised as optional. However, from the second stop onward, the tour fully devolved into an organized coercive sales operation, using psychological manipulation, moral pressure, and collective intimidation. At a carefully staged village, a performance showing an elderly woman repeatedly combing her hair served merely as the opening act for selling silver jewelry. The guide repeatedly emphasized that purchases were voluntary, while simultaneously explicitly implying that refusal meant disrespecting the service and the local people. This form of moral coercion forced many tourists to pay simply to avoid being isolated or shamed within the group, despite the products being grossly overpriced. The group was then taken to a jade store, where each tourist was followed by a salesperson for over 90 minutes, leaving no space to decline. At the final stop, tourists were confined in a closed room, prohibited from filming or taking photos, and subjected to openly threatening pressure to buy. What happened in Yangshuo is not an isolated case. In Shangri-La, Yunnan province, tourists reported being pressured into purchasing expensive jade. In Guilin, the Mulong Tower scenic area sparked outrage for charging 55 yuan, about 7.6 US dollars, simply to use the restroom. Located next to a tour bus parking area, visitors had no alternative upon getting off the bus but to pay to meet a basic physiological need. This was not tourism or service, but a blunt exploitation of tourists' helplessness. In stark contrast, public restrooms in Taiwan are widely available, clean, and free. Alongside forced consumption is a serious safety crisis in China's tourism industry. Major accidents have occurred repeatedly at well-known attractions. At the Zata Scenic Area in Xinjiang, a cable bridge snapped, sending 29 people into a river and killing 5. Notably, the same bridge had suffered a similar incident one year earlier. Yet the mandatory load monitoring system was never installed. Responsibility was passed back and forth between private operators and local authorities, while all risk was borne by tourists. In Hunan, a pirate ship amusement ride split in half while operating. In Zhejiang, rafting at Tianmu Mountain descended into chaos. Severe overcrowding, insufficient staff, and no rescue personnel on site. A young girl fell into the water and was dragged along by the current, saved only by another tourist. These incidents caused not only physical injuries but long-lasting psychological trauma, yet the same dangerous operating model continues unchecked. Against this backdrop, a striking paradox has emerged in China's tourism industry. There is no shortage of people, only a shortage of people willing to spend money. In many areas, tour buses fill parking lots, yet no tourists get off. Average daily spending has dropped to around 114 yuan per person, about 15.8 US dollars, a sharp decline from pre-pandemic levels. High-end hotels sit empty, while budget hotels remain fully booked until dawn. Most notably, young people, once expected to drive consumption, have become the quickest to see through the system. They are no longer fooled by fake ancient towns, staged museums, or high-priced check-in attractions devoid of real value. You build expensive homestays, they pitch tents. You sell cable car tickets for 180 yuan, about 25 US dollars. They hike up the mountain and upload videos online. Budget travel has shifted from passive frugality to a conscious oppositional choice. As a result, the core reason scenic spots are losing money is not a lack of visitors, but systematic overcharging and long-term disrespect toward tourists. Once trust is eroded, tourists protect themselves through zero-cost travel. Surveys show 72% of tourists believe scenic spot pricing offers poor value, and 68% would rather spend the same money in the city than at tourist attractions. Job market feels like hell. Returned Chinese student with UK master's cries. Can't find work. Now carrying bricks on construction sites. China's job market has entered an unusually harsh phase, and returning international students are among the most visibly affected groups. Once regarded as premium talent, many now find themselves sliding into low-paid, unstable jobs that bear little relation to their education. One widely circulated case on Chinese social media involves a former international student who completed both his undergraduate and master's degrees in the United Kingdom and was once a small-scale internet influencer. After returning to China, his current job is delivering food. He studied at the same UK institution and was admitted to a master's program at the University of Glasgow after finishing his undergraduate degree. His post-return career path, however, took a dramatically different turn. His first job was selling insurance for a major company, earning only about $3,000 to $4,000 per month, approximately $420 to $560 US dollars. He then attempted to find work related to his field as he held a master's degree in education but quickly encountered a rigid systemic barrier. Without a domestic teaching certificate, most employers would not even consider him. Eventually, he could only find work teaching young children at a community center. After working an entire month, including overtime, his total income amounted to just 4,600 yuan, about $640 US dollars. He later switched to tutoring high school students in English at a rate of 100 yuan per hour, around $14 US dollars, a price so low that many parents viewed it as a bargain. In reality, two hours of tutoring earned him only 200 yuan, about $28 US dollars. And even after working a full month, his daily income averaged roughly 100 yuan, around $14 US dollars. When the school term began and students returned to campus, the tutoring arrangement collapsed, leaving him unemployed once again. Under mounting financial pressure, he joined a food delivery service. On his busiest day, he worked from 9 a.m. until midnight and earned just over 300 yuan, approximately $42 US dollars. Notably, he was not alone. At the delivery station were several other international graduates, all of whom had earned degrees from UK universities. Surprisingly, the individual who posted the interview video later updated viewers, noting that the footage had been recorded earlier. The interviewee is no longer delivering food. He is now carrying cement at a construction site. The comment section beneath the video quickly turned into a collection of similar stories. One user said a relative held a domestic bachelor's degree, a master's degree from the University of Washington, and had spent a year as an exchange student at New York University. Yet after returning to China, she had been jobless for three months. Another commenter said a Chinese employer initially wanted to hire him, but once they learned he had graduated from a U.S. university, they dismissed his credentials as too low. Meanwhile, finding work abroad was comparatively easy. Another individual shared that he held a master's degree from Ukraine and had worked as a security guard, food delivery driver, and day laborer in China before eventually leaving for Russia. There, his monthly income now exceeds 10,000 yuan, about 1,400 U.S. dollars, along with project-based revenue and equity shares. He stated bluntly that only after being beaten down by society did he understand his own value and find a viable path forward. Some commenters asked the question directly, why return to China at all when working abroad can generate several times the income earned by more than 600 million low-income people inside the country? There was a time when being an international student conferred a clear advantage. Returnees typically earned higher salaries than their peers and were prioritized for well-paid positions. Many Chinese families once spared no expense, sometimes exhausting their savings, to send their children overseas. That era has ended. The reasons are concrete. Foreign companies, once the primary destination for international graduates, are withdrawing from China or sharply downsizing. Internship opportunities have become scarce, and in some cases, candidates must even pay for referrals. Domestic private enterprises have reverted to traditional management models and are no longer enthusiastic about imported systems, often viewing international graduates as lacking practical skills and adaptability. Entry into the civil service has also narrowed significantly, as recruitment increasingly favors graduates from elite domestic universities. More critically, the number of international students returning to China has surged in a short period. According to LinkedIn's 2024 report, 84% of Chinese international students chose to return home for job hunting last year, intensifying internal competition. Financial pressure has compounded these difficulties. The real estate crisis, widespread business failures, and tightening credit have forced many previously well-off families to cut off financial support for children studying abroad. Numerous students have moved into shared housing, taken on multiple part-time jobs, or abandoned their studies entirely to return home. In countries such as the UK and Canada, international students face strict limits on working hours, making it impossible to earn enough to cover tuition and living expenses long-term. If family support continues, students may scrape by through savings and part-time work. But once that support is cut, they are left with only two options. Abandon their overseas education or return home, quietly and involuntarily. China's fruit market in free fall, fruits that don't rot for half a year, hard like plastic, eat them and you get poisoned, hundreds of millions stop buying. In recent years, consumer trust in Chinese fruits and vegetables has continued to erode. This is not because people have become more picky, but because structural problems that have accumulated for years across the agricultural production and distribution chain are now rebounding against the market in increasingly visible ways. Look at these two guys. Does this eggplant look like it was washed with laundry detergent? With vegetables like this, how can anyone feel at ease? And the Napa cabbage, bundles and bundles thrown straight into water. What exactly is that supposed to mean? Images like these have left many consumers deeply unsettled about how produce is handled before reaching the market. In many production areas, in order to make agricultural products look better, sell faster and fetch higher prices, a whole set of practices has become routine. Food coloring, sweeteners, ripening agents, growth enhancers, and preservatives are used in rotation. The result is fruits that look glossy and perfect on the outside, yet don't rot for half a year and feel as hard as plastic. Many consumers say that after taking just one bite, they immediately notice strange flavors, leaving an uncomfortable sensation in the mouth, as if they had swallowed a mouthful of hormones. One blogger shared her experience with strawberries purchased at a supermarket. After eating just one berry, her mouth became itchy and swollen, and her nose felt irritated. Her mother experienced similar symptoms. The blogger warned that many strawberries are grown in greenhouses and tend to have relatively high pesticide residues. Vegetables that appear too perfect have also raised suspicions. Under bright lighting, some leafy greens exhibit an unnatural bluish sheen, believed to be residual chemicals left behind after soaking treatments. Substances such as formaldehyde, Bordeaux mixture, and copper sulfate are suspected of exceeding safety limits being used to prevent spoilage and extend shelf life. These vegetables are free of insect damage, shiny, and flawless. Yet it is precisely this perfection that many consumers now find alarming. The abuse of ripening agents remains another major concern. Chemicals such as ethofon and growth enhancers, and even hormone-like substances are reportedly used excessively. Watermelons have been documented cracking open in large numbers. Grapes and tomatoes appear ripe on the outside, but taste sour, hard, and underdeveloped on the inside. Although authorities maintain that proper use within regulated limits is safe, the pursuit of short-term profit has made it difficult to ensure that standards are actually followed. Kiwifruit, after December, is largely out of season. Aside from a few varieties from Shaanxi, most kiwifruit on the market is cold stored, either remaining rock hard no matter how long it sits, or rotting as soon as it softens, making it not worth buying. Watermelons are also fully out of season, expensive and lacking sweetness. Concerns have also spread to premium fruit. Sunshine rose grapes currently on the market are mostly cold stored, with bland taste and little aroma. Consumers have further pointed out that 99% of so-called Japanese shine muscat grapes sold on the market are actually domestic substitutes, as genuine Japanese shine muscat grapes are not exported. Most notably, cherries have come under heavy criticism this season. Many consumers report cherries with brownish flesh, bitter taste, and dried stems, likening the purchase experience to opening a mystery box. Videos show cherries that look firm and glossy on the outside, but once cut open, the flesh inside is already blackened and spoiled. China's fruit and vegetable markets are no longer just declining. They are in free fall because the entire supply chain has been poisoned by greed and corner cutting. The CCP can claim food security victories all at once. The people voting with their wallets tell the real story. Trust is gone, and once it's lost, no amount of propaganda can bring it back. Visa-free does not equal safety. Visa-free policy for Russia-China sparks security concerns. Recently, the Chinese Communist Party's embassy in Russia issued a statement noting a series of incidents involving injuries, deaths, and disappearances of Chinese tourists in Russia, reminding Chinese citizens traveling to Russia to heighten vigilance and strengthen safety precautions. On December 1st, 2025, Russian President Vladimir Putin signed a presidential decree announcing a visa-free entry policy for Chinese citizens holding ordinary passports, allowing a single stay of up to 30 days. The Chinese Foreign Ministry subsequently described the mutual visa exemption between China and Russia as another mutual rush toward each other by the two governments and peoples. Under this policy push, many travel agencies launched Russia tourism packages, and bookings for related routes, saw a clear surge. Flight bookings from China to Russia nearly doubled year on year. But after arriving in Russia, many Chinese tourists discovered a significant gap between the actual experience and official propaganda. At the end of 2025, an article titled The First Batch of Visa-Free Middle-Class Travelers to Russia Were Stunned went viral online, with the related topic briefly topping Weibo's hot search list. The article pointed out that due to security controls, newly activated foreign mobile SIM cards in Russia often face a silent period of up to 24 hours, leaving some Chinese tourists unable to access the internet normally, unable to use ride-hailing apps, and even encountering overcharging and price gouging. In addition, since the outbreak of the Russia-Ukraine war, Russia has faced Western sanctions, causing many international hotel brands to withdraw. The market is now mainly filled with local hotels and homestays. Many tourists reported having to stay in homestays priced close to five-star hotel levels, causing accommodation costs to rise sharply. The article also noted that due to the war and sanctions, many wealthy Russians can no longer travel to Western countries for consumption, and have instead concentrated on domestic tourism, further driving up prices for local tourism products, making them unaffordable for ordinary Chinese tourists. Many visitors to Russia complained that although entry is visa-free, with food, accommodation, and transportation not yet fully resolved, per-person spending quickly exceeds 10,000 RMB, approximately 1,400 U.S. dollars. Beyond consumption issues, safety risks have gradually emerged. According to Russian media reports, in 2025, multiple serious incidents occurred. On January 28, a vehicle-carrying tourist flipped over while driving on the ice of Lake Baikal, resulting in the death of one Chinese tourist and injuries to four others. On the evening of January 22, a tourist bus-carrying Chinese visitors collided with a truck in Russia's Primorsky Krai region. Of the 14 people on the bus, three were killed and five were injured. Additionally, in November 2025, a 20-year-old Chinese student surnamed Zhang went missing in St. Petersburg, Russia, and was later confirmed dead, sparking widespread public attention. That's it for this special holiday update. 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