Xi Lost His Top 10PB Defense Secrets! Shocking Truth about Hui Ka Yan's 200 Beauties

A massive leak of highly classified data. In early February 2026, a hacker group operating under the handle at Sparrow Strike One, known as Flaming China, made a public post on a well-known dark web forum as well as on Telegram, offering data for sale. They claim to have successfully breached the defenses of the Tianjin National Supercomputing Center and stolen more than 10 petabytes of core research data. The price? Just 10 Monero, a cryptocurrency. As of March 17, 1 Monero was worth around $370, putting the total at roughly $3,700, less than $4,000. An astonishingly low price for a complete data set of this scale, totaling 10 pb. Unsurprisingly, the news sent shockwaves across the internet. At first, many people found it hard to believe. It seemed too extreme. Why? Commentator Tang Jingyuan pointed out several reasons. First, the target of the breach, the Tianjin National Supercomputing Center. This is no ordinary computing facility. It is China's largest and most influential national-level supercomputing hub. It connects more than 30 provinces and cities and serves over 1,600 key organizations, including the defense industry, state-owned enterprises, and numerous classified research institutes. Just imagine how many secrets are stored there. Moreover, the center not only operates the Tianhe-1 supercomputer, once claimed to be the most powerful in the world, but also serves as the heart of China's digitalization in both scientific research and industry. Data security here is directly tied to the lifeblood of core technologies and could even be said to relate to national regime security. If a facility like this were truly compromised, it would imply that the entire core network might be vulnerable. This is effectively a top-tier digital fortress, and if it can be breached, then others could potentially fall at any time. That may sound somewhat exaggerated, but it underscores just how serious such an incident would be. The second point is the sheer scale of the alleged theft. 10 petabytes of core research data. What does that mean? Roughly 10,000 terabytes. Most people are familiar with 1 terabyte or 2 terabyte hard drives and have a sense of how much data they can hold. To store 10 pb, you would need about 10,000 1 terabyte drives. And yet, such an enormous volume of high-value data is being sold for just a few thousand dollars. It sounds highly unusual. That said, hackers don't always operate by conventional logic. There have been cases where extremely valuable data was obtained, only to be released publicly for free. Third, the data exposed in this breach is not personal information or everyday civilian records. It represents the culmination of China's top-tier scientific research capabilities. The leaked material reportedly includes aerospace projects tied to Aviation Industry Corporation of China, AVIC, and Commercial Aircraft Corporation of China, COMAC, both major state-owned enterprises handling highly sensitive work. The data covers areas such as aircraft structural durability, aerodynamic characteristics, fatigue life, high-temperature aerodynamics under hypersonic conditions, and material limits, in other words, highly classified information related to hypersonic missile technology. Beyond that, there is a large volume of military research linked to institutions like the National University of Defense Technology and Northwestern Polytechnical University, both deeply integrated into China's defense and military-industrial complex. The dataset is said to include work on 5th and 6th generation fighter jets, nuclear submarine structures, fluid dynamics analysis, weapon penetration modeling, and stealth aerodynamics. Even more striking, the leak allegedly contains thermonuclear reaction simulations and biomedical data, fields considered extremely sensitive. There are also simulations of extreme physical processes at the level of nuclear explosions. Some documents are marked with 10-year confidentiality periods and include classified reports from 2025, complete with contract numbers and detailed documentation. Surprisingly, the leak is also said to include information related to so-called online commentators, technical platforms used to coordinate information warfare on international networks, along with system organization and management methods. From technological warfare to narrative and information warfare, the scope appears to cover it all. Some might suspect this is merely a fabrication, hackers staging a disinformation campaign with a few doctored images. However, when offering the data for sale, the hackers released sample files. These samples briefly appeared on GitHub, and screenshots of some contents have since circulated publicly online. Several cybersecurity experts have analyzed these sample files, including header metadata, contract numbers, and their consistency with known official projects, and concluded that they are unlikely to be fake with a high degree of credibility. Discussions about the incident have been intense across platforms like X, Chinese language forums, and Reddit. Yet so far, Chinese authorities, particularly agencies connected to the Tianjin National Supercomputing Center, have issued no official response. How did the data leak happen? How could a facility like the Tianjin Supercomputing Center, often described as a top-tier digital fortress, be breached in the first place? The answer may be more surprising than expected. Some experts who analyzed the leaked file listings found that, if the incident is real, the center's security system might be far weaker than previously assumed. In some of the leaked screenshots, traces of the Windows operating system were visible, including even the outdated Windows 7. Today, even most individual users have moved on to newer versions like Windows 11 or 12. Yet a system of such national importance appears to have been running on an obsolete platform. In addition, analysts found signs that the center may lack proper internal network segmentation. This would mean that, once a single point is breached, the intrusion could spread across the entire system. Many experts find this hard to believe. In a national-level facility, there should typically be physical or logical isolation so that if one segment is compromised, the damage remains contained. But in this case, that kind of separation seems absent, making the entire system resemble a loosely assembled structure rather than a hardened infrastructure. According to commentator Tang Jingwan, corruption cannot be ruled out as a contributing factor. It remains unclear how the construction budget for the center was actually spent, raising the possibility that funds intended for security may have been diverted. The head of the Tianjin Supercomputing Center, Party Secretary Meng Xiangfei, is also the chief scientist for Tianhe Applications and a project leader under China's National Key Research Programs during the 13th Five-Year Plan. He is currently just 47 years old and has been featured multiple times in state media outlets such as People's Daily and Guangming Daily. He earned a Ph.D. in theoretical physics from Nankai University in 2007, then went to the United States to study supercomputing. Just two years later, in 2009, China's first national supercomputing center was established in Tianjin. According to state media, after returning to China, he fully mastered supercomputing technologies and played a key role in building the center and developing the Tianhe-1 system. What stands out is the speed of this transition. In just two years, he moved from theoretical physics into supercomputing and became a leading expert in the field. So where did the technology behind Tianhe-1 come from? Many people likely have their own thoughts. There are only two possibilities. Either he is an exceptional prodigy or the technology was sourced from elsewhere. What damage could this data bomb cause for China? According to commentator Tang Jingyuan, the impact could be profound. First, the Tianhe supercomputing system sits at the core of China's strategy for technological self-reliance and military-civil fusion. The center reportedly holds vast amounts of algorithms, parameters, models, unpublished experimental results, and even design blueprints and AI training data. While much of this may consist of intermediate computational outputs, experienced experts, especially those overseas, could use reverse engineering and combine it with publicly available information to uncover numerous shortcuts. This could allow foreign intelligence agencies to rapidly break through China's technological barriers. In other words, they could effectively see all of China's cards at once. That is the first major impact. Second, in areas where China believes it has achieved independent innovation, such as aerospace, advanced manufacturing, and nuclear technology, there could now be what's known as systemic risk. That is, these capabilities could potentially be compromised all at once. For example, the National Security Agency, NSA, or its allies could use such data to verify and accelerate the development of counter technologies. Put simply, whatever you develop, your opponent can now figure out how to neutralize it. Once your entire hand is exposed, identifying weaknesses and exploiting them becomes far easier. This could apply even to areas China considers strategic advantages, such as hypersonic missiles, next-generation fighter jets, or quantum computing, potentially eroding those advantages altogether. Third, under its 14th five-year plan, China has positioned supercomputing as critical infrastructure for overcoming western chip restrictions. So, if this leak is confirmed, and such a vast amount of data has indeed been lost, it would deal a heavy blow to China's claims of having a secure and reliable cybersecurity system. It could also seriously undermine trust among its international partners, especially countries aligned with China or involved in the Belt and Road Initiative. After all, if cooperation risks exposing sensitive data, who would still be willing to participate? The impact could be similar to past incidents where Chinese-supplied radar or air defense systems sold to countries like Venezuela or Iran were allegedly shown to be ineffective, essentially turning into scrap metal. There are also claims tied to real-world consequences. On March 16, 2026, exiled Canadian-based activist Sheng Shui reported that in Iran, three employees from a Chinese electronics institute were killed in a bombing. They were technicians responsible for radar systems designed to detect stealth aircraft like the F-35 Lightning 2. Their identities and assignments were classified, but sources indicated that two were in their 40s and one in his 50s. According to the same source, these individuals were maintaining radar systems exported by China to Iran. Personnel from multiple institutes under the China Electronics Technology Group Corporation were reportedly present in the country. The implication is that precise intelligence may have enabled targeted strikes, potentially exposing vulnerabilities in Chinese defense technology. The broader consequence could be a widening gap between China and the United States in the ongoing arms race, especially amid what many describe as a new Cold War. China has already lagged behind the U.S. in many areas, with only a few fields, like hypersonic weapons, seen as narrowing the gap. But after a leak of this magnitude, that gap could widen once again. At a time of heightened tensions involving Iran, and with Beijing's ambitions regarding Taiwan unchanged, such a massive leak of sensitive military data raises an obvious question. Is it really just a coincidence? What do you think? Trump block the Strait of Hormuz. Who takes the bigger hit, China or Iran? Following former President Trump's latest announcement that the United States would blockade the Strait of Hormuz and block Iranian oil tankers, Iran appears to be pushed into a corner. According to energy analysts, Iran's crude oil is currently struggling to find buyers, and its storage capacity can only accommodate about 55 million more barrels. At current production levels, storage could be full within 13 to 14 days, forcing wells to shut down. Worse, pressure buildup could cause oil backflow, while saltwater intrusion may permanently damage wells, potentially leading to tens of billions of dollars in infrastructure losses. Once operational wells are shut, the damage to making it impossible to restore previous output levels. The countdown effectively began on April 13 and is expected to reach a critical point around April 27. On top of that, Iran's refining capacity is weak, with gasoline and diesel heavily reliant on imports. Under a blockade, the country could quickly face nationwide fuel shortages, with a looming food crisis not far behind. Iran may have as little as 11 days left, but Iran is not the only one under pressure. Its oil is deeply tied to China's energy lifeline, and even some suggest to the financial interests of Xi Jinping's family. A statement on April 13 by Defense Minister Dong Jin made this connection more explicit. He referenced the China-Iran oil agreement and expressed hope that other parties would not interfere. His final point was key. The Strait of Hormuz, controlled by Iran, remains open to China. So here's the contradiction. The U.S. says it will blockade Iran, while China claims normal passage continues. What's really happening? Recently, a Chinese vessel named Fuxin was intercepted in the Strait of Hormuz and turned back in the Gulf of Oman, according to the Wall Why did it retreat? Previously, the ship had declared it was not heading to Iran, but to the UAE to transport cargo such as ethanol and methanol, about 250,000 tons in total. On paper, it was a legitimate vessel, eligible to pass through the Strait and Gulf waters. At first, it appeared hesitant, then seemed to test the crossing. But reports suggest there may have been unclear historical records, possibly even prior activity in Iranian territory. What the ship was actually carrying remains uncertain. These factors may have ultimately forced it to turn back. Many such vessels fall under U.S. sanctions and are classified as shadow fleet ships. As of now, nearly all cargo and oil tankers linked to Iran are unable to pass through. Only a small number of military vessels not associated with Iran are still permitted to transit the Strait of Hormuz. What's becoming clear is that China has already lost exclusive oil concessions in Venezuela and may now be losing similar preferential arrangements with Iran, either now or in the near future. If the Iranian regime were to collapse, Beijing could face hostility from any transitional government. The loss would be significant. China's access to discounted oil would vanish, triggering broader economic consequences, and that's still not the full picture. Trump continues to turn the screws on China. At the same time, Trump has made another significant move, signing a comprehensive defense cooperation agreement with Indonesia. Many observers believe this step carries deeper strategic intent. For years, China has been developing its navy and aircraft carriers with a clear goal, expanding from nearshore waters into the South China Sea, then into deeper oceans, and ultimately projecting power globally to rival the United States. But Beijing has always been acutely aware of its own vulnerabilities. One of the biggest is the Strait of Malacca, a critical choke point through which about 23.2 million barrels of oil pass daily, making it the busiest in the world, even surpassing the Strait of Hormuz. Back in 2003, former Chinese leader Hu Jintao publicly raised this concern at the Central Economic Work Conference, calling it the Malacca Dilemma. In simple terms, most of China's oil imports must pass through this narrow strait, which is jointly influenced by Indonesia, Malaysia, and Singapore. At the time, over 80% of China's oil flowed through this route. Hu's concern was straightforward. If China were ever blocked, particularly by a major power like the United States, its energy lifeline could be strangled. Since then, Beijing has tried to reduce this risk by building overland pipelines with Russia, diversifying transport routes across multiple countries, and constructing new ports and pipeline networks. However, despite these efforts, China's energy demand has grown even faster. Today, roughly 65-80% of its seaborne oil imports still pass through the Strait of Malacca. In other words, after more than two decades of effort, from Hu Jintao to Xi Jinping, the problem remains unresolved. Meanwhile, China has increased pressure in the South China Sea, confronting countries like Vietnam and the Philippines, as well as in the East China Sea, in an effort to expand its maritime space. But this time, Trump has quietly made a countermove by strengthening military ties with Indonesia. On the surface, the agreement does not involve permanent U.S. troop deployments. But in practice, it is a subtle and strategic arrangement that allows deeper U.S. involvement in the region. Through underwater drones, maritime surveillance, submarines, and other capabilities, the U.S. could monitor and restrict activity in these waters. In effect, this gives Washington something close to a key to the Strait of Malacca, one that could be used to shut it down at a critical moment. Those who understand global strategy will recognize this as a major move by Donald Trump. It effectively places China's energy lifeline, 70-80% of its seaborne energy supply, within U.S. reach. Beyond this, the United States is also working to control other strategic maritime routes, such as the Strait of Hormuz, the Panama Canal, and several other key shipping corridors. As the naval strategist Alfred Thayer Mahan once argued, whoever controls the sea lanes controls the world. China has invested decades of effort, yet ultimately remains constrained. On the surface, U.S. actions against Iran appear to target Iran, but in reality, they are also aimed at China. The same logic applies to control over the Panama Canal, and now the Strait of Malacca. This is closer to a direct chokehold. That said, Beijing has hardly played a clean game itself, often acting through indirect means. U.S. media reports suggest China may be planning to supply new air defense weapons to Iran. An open-source account on PlatformX has claimed that Chinese transport aircraft landed at Quetta Air Base in Pakistan carrying large quantities of weapons and ammunition, including surface-to-air missiles, which were then transported overland into Iran. These claims, however, remain unverified. Some Chinese analysts in the U.S. have even given Trump the nickname Don Tsu, comparing him to the ancient strategist Sun Tzu. One of Don Tsu's supposed tactics? Break an enemy's blockade by blockading their blockade. What do you think of this move? Drop your thoughts in the comments below. Hui Kaiyan officially stands trial, facing a possible death sentence. On April 13, inside a courthouse in Shenzhen, a man once dubbed China's real estate king took his seat at the defendant's bench. Gone were the tailored suits, the expensive Hermes belt, the private jet trips. Hui Kaiyan, who once ran the Evergrande empire worth hundreds of billions of dollars, now faced eight criminal charges read aloud in open court. Xinhua News Agency reported the case briefly. But behind that short dispatch lies a long story of ambition, bubbles, and hundreds of thousands of lives swept into its vortex. The list of charges reads like a business model in summary. Illegal fundraising from the public, fraud and capital raising, unlawful loan issuance, misuse of funds, securities issuance fraud, violations in information disclosure, abuse of position to appropriate assets, and bribery. The first charge alone is staggering. More than 100,000 people were drawn into Evergrande's fundraising scheme, not just outside investors, but its own employees. Many were pressured into buying so-called internal financial products. The outcome? Total losses, followed by waves of In court, Hui Kaiyan admitted guilt and expressed remorse. The sentencing will be announced at a later date. The harshest possible penalty could be life imprisonment or a suspended death sentence. Between 2017 and 2019, Hui Kaiyan withdrew more than 10 billion yuan in dividends each year. Over several years, the total exceeded 50 billion. What's striking is that a significant portion of this money came from borrowed funds. Put plainly, he used leverage to pay profits to himself and shareholders, while pushing the risks onto those with no voice. For years, this model operated in a gray zone. No intervention, no questions, as long as the market remained hot. Now, with eight criminal charges formally defined, authorities have made one thing clear. That path is closed. Commentator Wen Zhao, now based in Canada, described the trial as effectively a triple prosecution, targeting Evergrande Group, Evergrande Real Estate, and Hui Kaiyan himself. In his view, bringing the case to trial at this moment suggests that agreements on overseas asset recovery have been reached, and that conclusions regarding connections to higher-level officials have already been made, awaiting only formal disclosure. That raises a broader question many hesitate to ask. If the real estate market were still booming, would Hui Kaiyan be standing trial today? And if he wasn't the only one inflating the bubble to such extremes, who else should be held accountable? The question cuts to the core. Evergrande's violations cannot be attributed to a single businessman. Behind it were powerful officials, and beyond them, an entire system that sustained this model for decades. Evergrande's electric vehicle dream, hyped with trillions in investment, ended with just 900 cars and a mountain of debt. But the most painful losses were not Hui Kaiyan's, nor those of foreign creditors. They belonged to ordinary people who once lined up at sales offices, believing a Fortune 500 company was untouchable. They poured in their life savings, signed 30-year mortgage contracts, only to receive unfinished foundations or projects left forever incomplete. When Hui Kaiyan took his seat at the defendant's bench, they were not called as witnesses. They existed only as numbers in the record of damages. And no matter the verdict, the court cannot give them back those 30 years of debt. At his peak, Hui Kaiyan lived in unimaginable luxury. At the height of his power, Hui Kaiyan lived a life of staggering extravagance. It's said that Evergrande once set up a company with over 200 staff solely dedicated to serving Hui's household. From butlers and maids to chefs and personal assistants, it operated like the imperial household department of the Qing Dynasty. The headquarters of Evergrande had two elevators, but Hui had a private one to symbolize his special status and privileges. He spent generously to hire professional fitness trainers from the U.S. and reportedly played a monthly football match paying 200,000 yuan per game, a testament to his focus on health and image. He walked in a cloak, exuding grandeur. With a mere shrug of his shoulders, the cloak would slide off, and a bodyguard behind would promptly catch it, a choreographed move to elevate his elegance and noble air. When smoking cigars, someone was always on hand to catch the ashes, reinforcing his taste and sophistication. He took up football, gathering top players from across China, demonstrating both his influence and financial muscle in the sports world. He even launched an internal magazine where his face was always featured on the cover, a clear signal of his control over Evergrande's media narrative. An internal Excel spreadsheet showing Evergrande's lavish hospitality expenses once went viral online, shocking the public, but to Evergrande's it was business as usual, and Hui's land, sea, and air modes of transport utterly jaw-dropping. Luxury Yacht, market price of $60 million, custom-built in the Netherlands. After Evergrande's collapse, it sold for only $35 million, nearly a 50% loss. Luxury Cars, two Rolls-Royce Phantoms, each worth 8 to 10 million yuan with vanity plates The latter matching Evergrande's stock code, 03333. Private Jets, four in total, including Airbus ACJ 330 and ACJ 309 models. The ACJ 330 alone cost $220 million. Beyond vehicles, Hui Qian splurged on real estate around the world, properties that symbolized both over-the-top wealth and alleged efforts to hide assets or avoid accountability. In central Hong Kong, he bought the most expensive residence ever sold, priced at $930 million in USDs, a record-breaking deal. The 1,700-square-meter mansion featured a private garden, pool, elevator, and garage situated in Hong Kong's most elite neighborhood. In Los Angeles, he purchased a $150 million estate spanning 12,000 m2 with 28 bedrooms, 36 bathrooms, 5 swimming pools, a cinema, bowling alley, tennis courts, and other extravagant amenities. In London, he spent 210 million pounds on another mansion. In Beijing, near the core area of Xisha Hai, he owned a riverside villa next to Jack Ma's. Its gate, made of golden rosewood, alone cost 150 million yuan. Even back in his hometown of Zhouku, where a nationwide tomb flattening campaign once shocked the country, Hui's ancestral tomb, worth over 10 million yuan, and occupying 12 mu of farmland, remained untouched. He even erected a merit monument dedicated to himself while still alive. Evergrande was also a top customer of Guizhou Maotai, having co-branded at least five exclusive lines of premium liquor. A former employee revealed that Hui's wine cellar in Hong Kong was so extravagant it exceeded the value of his private jets, and that the number of Evergrande's global wine cellars was beyond imagination. In what's been called the most expensive toast in history, one glass of wine shared between Hui Kaiyan and Zhang Jiandong of Suning reportedly led to Zhang investing 20 billion yuan. Another furniture mogul, desperate to land a strategic partnership with Evergrande, drank 20 shots of liquor in front of Hui, and ended up with a perforated stomach. Clearly, Hui Kaiyan lived in an illusion of perpetual celebration, a world of endless banquets, blinding lights, and intoxicated luxury. His life was not just rich, it was extravagance on a scale that even emperors of old might envy. Even hotel stays came with their own hierarchy of privilege. After Hui Kaiyan and several top executives at Evergrande were detained, a leaked document titled Customer Profile for Evergrande Group Executives surfaced in Chinese media. The level of detail in this file was nothing short of astonishing. According to the document, Hui Kaiyan had over a dozen personal requirements when staying at a hotel. These included no crowds upon arrival, the elevator had to be empty when he entered, no one, especially men, was allowed to approach him except for his personal secretary, bodyguards, and housekeeper. Even the bottled water had to be the latest batch of Evergrande-branded mineral water. The room had to be equipped with a humidifier, set below 50% humidity, and must be completely free of any unusual odors. Additionally, the air purifier had to be turned on but remain silent. At night, every single LED light in the room had to be covered with black tape. Absolute silence was mandatory during sleep. He always carried his own cigars, typically Cohiba or Davidoff, and required the room to have a cigar ashtray, cutter, and torchlighter. A full tea set had to be available, and personal care products needed to be clearly labeled in large font. The bathroom had to be stocked with anti-slip slippers, ample clothes hangers, and daily laundry service. As for food preferences, Hui only consumed imported fruits such as Japanese melons, Japanese shine muscat grapes, premium Tianwan watermelons, winter jujubes, and exceptionally sweet mangoes. He liked Liaodong ginseng and fish, but avoided anything spicy, warming, or seafood-related. Hui wasn't the only one with extravagant demands. Other Evergrande executives also lived out what many referred to as the Imperial Class of Evergrande through their hotel requirements. His second son, Xu Teng, Vice President of Evergrande Real Estate, made 25 separate requests, more than double his father's. Among them, he disliked being addressed by his Chinese name and had an extreme preference for Evian mineral water imported from France. The most recent batch of Evian had to be available in precise quantities and placements. Six bottles on the nightstand, six bottles on the tea table, six bottles at the minibar, six more on the tea table in the study, three bottles on the work desk, and six more Evian bottles had to be prepared for him just before checkout. In terms of meals, his breakfast had to be delivered to his secretary first, and only then brought to him by the secretary personally. His menu included lobster bisque, rainbow geoduck clam, and abalone. For drinks, he favored Penfold's 407 red wine, priced between 300 to 500 per bottle, and high-end Feitianmutei with a market price of nearly 5,000 yuan. He also traveled with three bodyguards and a personal secretary. Hui Keyan burned through billions to build the world's largest football stadium. As Evergrande transformed from a local real estate company into a sprawling multinational conglomerate, Hui Keyan's personality and mindset evolved in lockstep with his rising wealth and status. He became increasingly flamboyant, ostentatious, arrogant, and insatiable. Embarking on a series of reckless expansions, he poured staggering sums into one unprofitable venture after another. In 2010, he acquired Guangzhou Football Club. Determined to turn it into a dominant force in Chinese football, Hui invested at least 35 billion yuan, signing a host of world-class players and coaches, including former Brazil national team coach Luiz Felipe Scolari, ex-Italy coach Marcelo Lippi, Colombian striker Jackson Martinez, and Brazilian forward Elkisson, among others. In 2018, Hui spent €450 million to acquire a 55% stake in Premier League club Aston Villa, becoming its largest shareholder. Then in 2020, Evergrande broke ground on what was promoted as the largest football stadium in the world, the Guangzhou Evergrande Football Stadium. With a projected investment of 12 billion yuan, the stadium was designed to cover 150,000 square meters of land, with a total floor area of nearly 494,000 square meters and a capacity of 100,000 spectators. But the grand project came to a halt as Evergrande's funding chain collapsed, leaving the stadium unfinished, another monument to Hui's excess. In reality, Hui's obsessive investment in was not just about business or prestige. It was widely believed to be a calculated move to cater to Xi Jinping's well-known passion for the sport. Hui Qian's Cicada Malt, 1,133 Evergrande party branches become a laughingstock. Evergrande, with a registered capital of just 3.9 billion yuan, managed in just over a decade to accumulate a mountain of debt totaling 2.58 trillion yuan. Its leverage ratio exceeded 600 times, making it the most indebted real estate developer in history. Among this debt, over 300 billion came from bank loans, 200 billion from commercial paper, more than a trillion yuan owed to suppliers, 700 billion owed to homebuyers, and the remainder, several hundred billion, tied up in financial instruments like trust funds, insurance, and wealth management products. Among the many creditors, the most tragic are the homebuyers of Evergrande's unfinished projects, people who emptied their six wallets to place a deposit, only to receive nothing in return. Their money vanished like scraps tossed to a dog, yet they must still make mortgage payments every month. Otherwise, they risk being sued by banks, having their credit ruined, and suffering serious long-term consequences in their lives. As of September 2022, Evergrande had 706 stalled projects in more than 200 cities, with 720,000 undelivered homes, affecting more than 6 million homeowners, people who are left homeless and helpless. One of the most absurd cases is the Evergrande Royal Lake World Project in Xinjiang, Henan. The homes were fully sold, deposits collected, but the only thing Evergrande built was a grand entrance gate costing tens of millions of yuan. Beyond that, not a single brick. It became known as the flashiest unfinished project in history. None of Evergrande's investments brought profit. All resulted in massive losses. And yet Hui Keyan continued to borrow, to leverage, to expand across all sectors. Why? On one hand, to keep funneling dividends to himself. On the other, to maintain the political glow of being a red-capped tycoon. From 2009 to 2022, Evergrande issued dividends almost every year, totaling 733.86 billion yuan. Hui and his wife held around 70% of Evergrande shares, meaning they pocketed at least 500 billion yuan. Even when the company's debt crisis became obvious in 2020, they didn't stop. In 2021, as commercial paper defaults piled up, dividends still flowed. They even manipulated financial reports, inflating revenues by 664.34 billion yuan to justify dividends and extract cash. When the truth could no longer be hidden, Hui resorted to every trick to quietly vanish. First, he moved assets abroad through a fake divorce. Evergrande was listed in Hong Kong through a small red-chip structure. Offshore entities in the British Virgin Islands and the Cayman Islands, fully controlled by Hui and his wife Ding Yumei, received most of the dividends from Evergrande China and transferred them overseas before and after the collapse. Through this so-called technical divorce, the money ultimately landed in the hands of ex-wife Ding Yumei overseas. Second, he protected his assets through bankruptcy. After receiving huge dividends, Hui and his wife leveraged Evergrande's U.S. dollar bond offerings, buying up large portions themselves as preferred insiders and earning massive interest. On November 6, 2018, Evergrande issued two USD bond tranches totaling $1.235 billion. Hui alone bought $1 billion worth, with annual yields of 13% and 13.75%. From 2020 to 2021, he purchased three more tranches totaling over $600 million, with yields of 12%. All of this legally extracted tens or even hundreds of millions of dollars in bond interest, all from Evergrande. As Evergrande's liabilities far outstripped its assets, Hui filed for bankruptcy protection in the U.S., hoping to shield all his overseas assets through legal means while shifting Evergrande's liabilities onto Chinese financial institutions that had underwritten the company's debts. Third, he allegedly set up a $2.3 billion family trust for his eldest son shortly before filing for bankruptcy, aiming to preserve family wealth across generations and ensure perpetual access to dividends. Ironically, Hui once declared, Everything I have, everything Evergrande has, was given by the party, the state, and society. We must give back. We must shoulder social responsibility. He even swore, I can lose everything, but Evergrande's investors must not lose everything. In China, there is a saying, the party must oversee everything, workers, peasants, merchants, students, soldiers, east, west, north, south, center. Official data showed that Evergrande had 38 secondary party committees, 27 general branches, and 1,133 individual party branches, with 12,075 registered party members. Now, the cruel irony is that Hui Kaiyuan, once party secretary of Evergrande Group, ended up taking the back door, quietly siphoning massive personal wealth abroad, while leaving behind trillions in debt, hundreds of thousands of unfinished homes, and a social disaster for the same party that once bathed him in glory. In other words, assets privatized, debts corporatized, risks socialized, and the children westernized. Evergrande is a microcosm of China's broader economic model. Hui Kaiyuan's trajectory mirrors that of China's real estate sector. From Xiao Jianhua of Tomorrow Group, to Wu Xiaohui of Anbang, to Hui Kaiyuan of Evergrande, each fallen like dominoes, each proving a simple truth. The closer a business empire is to the Chinese Communist Party's power center, the faster it collapses, and the harder it falls. So what do you think of Hui Kaiyuan's royal lifestyle? Leave your thoughts in the comments below. Why did Hui Kaiyuan fall? So how did Evergrande Group go from skyscrapers rising to everything collapsing? The answer doesn't lie with a single person, a single decision, or a single moment. It lies in a system, and in how that system decides who must bear the cost when everything falls apart. First, consider China's real estate sector as a whole. Housing prices there have long ceased to reflect real value. They are out of step with household incomes, disconnected from rent-to-buy ratios, and untethered from any reliable economic fundamentals. This isn't the outcome of a free market, it's the result of policy. The state used a range of tools to push prices upward, turning real estate into a primary engine of growth. At one point, nearly 40% of China's GDP was tied to this sector. In many provinces, up to 60% of local government revenue depended on land sales. When an economy runs like that, the real question is not whether it will collapse, but when, and who will be held responsible. In a sense, Hui Kaiyuan was in the right place at the right time. He rose from rural beginnings to the top of an industry propelled by Economists have a saying, when the wind is strong enough, even a pig can fly. China's real estate boom was exactly that kind of wind, driven by rapid urbanization, state policy, and an endless flow of credit. Whatever Hui Kaiyuan's personal abilities, they mattered less than the wave he was riding. But he didn't stop when he should have. Instead of consolidating its core business, Evergrande expanded in every direction. Media, entertainment, live performances, and most ambitiously, electric vehicles. Trillions were poured into that dream, only to yield about 900 cars and a mountain of unwanted debt. This excess wasn't just a business miscalculation, it reflected a familiar mindset among a generation of Chinese tycoons, the belief that past success guarantees future dominance, that they could do everything. Then there was the political game, and this is where things become truly complex. Hui Kaiyuan rose during the era when the so-called Jiang faction, associated with Jiang Zemin, held influence over China for nearly two decades. He benefited from backing by powerful figures such as Zheng Qinghong and Li Chengchun. With that support, Evergrande grew in ways a purely commercial enterprise never could. But that support was also a trap. Many Chinese entrepreneurs adopted the model of being a businessman wearing an official's hat, using political connections to bend economic rules, believing that money and relationships could buy long-term security. Jack Ma ran into a similar reality. Under the rule of the Communist Party, no entrepreneur truly holds political power. They are tools. When needed, they act as white gloves, carrying out what the system prefers not to do directly. When no longer needed, they can be discarded, reduced to scapegoats. As Xi Jinping consolidated power and purged rival factions, those once backed by the Jiang camp became potential targets. Hui Kaiyuan was no exception. His political bet failed, not because he played the game poorly, but because the rules of the game had changed. What's striking is that the charges brought against Hui Kaiyuan—illegal fundraising, selling uncompleted homes without proper oversight, and using debt leverage to pay dividends—are not unique to Evergrande Group. This is, in fact, how the entire industry operated. Selling homes on paper, collecting money up front, then building later, or sometimes not building at all, was a model that the system allowed to exist for decades. In the United States, such a model doesn't exist. In Hong Kong, it does, but under strict supervision. In China, it was normal, until suddenly, it wasn't. So when the bubble burst, who was held responsible? Not the system that created it. Not the local governments that relied on land sales to fund their budgets. Not the state-owned banks that pumped in virtually unlimited credit. The party's answer was Hui Kaiyuan. According to Channel Da Xiju, this is the true nature of the April 13 trial—a calculated act of shifting blame. The total sum involved in the case reaches 2.44 trillion yuan, while China's massive 2008 economic stimulus package was 4 trillion. Of that, roughly 800 billion yuan is tied to banks, with the rest coming from supply chains and homebuyers' deposits—in other words, the money of ordinary people. Yet the responsibility is placed on a single individual. This year, Hui Kaiyuan is 67 years old. It should have been a time for retirement, a chance to enjoy the rewards of a life that rose from rural beginnings. Instead, he sits in court facing eight charges, having confessed, awaiting sentencing. Many of his assets in France, Canada, and elsewhere have already been seized. Despite an earlier technical divorce intended to move assets, most could not be preserved. Online, speculation swirls. Some say he knows too much. Will he disappear in prison? Others argue that by pleading guilty and not implicating anyone else, he may have secured his survival. Either way, the final image is this—a man who started with nothing, rose to the top on the winds of a system, and was cast down by that same system when the winds shifted. Come with empty hands. Leave with empty hands. It sounds like a fair ending. But it isn't, because the ones truly left with nothing are not Hui Kaiyuan, but the hundreds of thousands of homebuyers still paying off 30-year debts for homes that were never finished. The World's Most Unusual Song and Dance Troupe 2011 was a landmark year for Evergrande, marking its rise to fame across China. In 2010, Evergrande's chairman, Hui Kaiyuan, spent 1 billion yuan, around 137 million USD, to acquire the Guangzhou Football Club, renaming it Guangzhou Evergrande. The following year, the team won the national championship, bringing the Evergrande brand into the hearts of millions of fans. Excited by this success, Hui Kaiyuan spared no expense, hosting a grand celebration in November 2011, inviting numerous celebrities to Guangzhou. Then, a troupe of dancers took the stage, performing two dances specially choreographed for the football team. The crowd was mesmerized as the dancers, bathed in soft lighting, moved gracefully, flawless skin, long legs, and impeccable dance technique on full display. This was the public's first introduction to the Evergrande Song and Dance Troupe. In reality, the Evergrande Song and Dance Troupe was founded in 1999, just three years after the company began. However, for more than a decade, its existence was a well-kept secret, known only to a few Evergrande employees. Why was the troupe kept out of the public eye for so long? Could there have been a hidden purpose behind its creation? It wasn't until January 2011 that the troupe officially registered as a company. Guangzhou Evergrande National Song and Dance Troupe Co. looted, with a registered capital of 2 million yuan, around 274,000 all USDs. By November that same year, they made their official public debut. From then on, the Evergrande Song and Dance Troupe became a regular feature at major events, racking up numerous awards. They won the Outstanding Award at the 7th CCTV Dance Competition and a Gold Medal at a National Dance Contest organized by the Ministry of Culture. The troupe even began performing on the world stage. In 2016, they performed at the G20 Summit in Hangzhou, and in 2018, they took part in the closing ceremony of the Asian Games in Jakarta. Wherever they performed, the audience responded with resounding applause. Weikai Yan proudly proclaimed that the Evergrande Song and Dance Troupe was the face of the company and an essential part of its corporate culture. At this point, you might be thinking that despite his financial struggles, Weikai Yan is a man with a deep appreciation for culture. But wait, what I've shared so far is only the troupe's elegant, public-facing image. What about its other side? Beyond their graceful performances, the troupe also became known for showcasing the dancers' striking physiques with photos and poses that seemed far from traditional art. For example, in this photo, this one, and this one. So why were these photos taken at such suggestive angles, highlighting the dancers' bodies? Were they performing for the public, or was this troupe catering to a more exclusive audience? In 2020, the Evergrande Song and Dance Troupe issued a recruitment notice with exceptionally strict criteria. Not only were male and female dancers required to be attractive, but more importantly, they had to be single and were forbidden from dating while employed. The dancers needed to be highly trained, with the age range for applicants set between 17 and 20 years old. Female dancers had to be between 170 and 175 centimeters in height, while males needed to be between 178 and 185 centimeters. This process resembled model casting, but the standards were even more demanding. After passing several rounds of selection, all finalists had to receive personal approval from Hui Kayan before joining the troupe. Every dancer was described as having exceptional, almost otherworldly beauty. While the technical dance skills and physique requirements were expected, the emphasis on looks and the mandate to remain single raised questions. Why such strict requirements? What was the true purpose behind these rules? The mission of the Evergrande Song and Dance Troupe was indeed unconventional. Those selected were handsomely compensated, with the salary divided into five tiers. Top-tier performers earned 28,000 yuan, around 3,800 USD per month. First-tier dancers received 16,000 yuan. Second-tier 14,000 yuan. Third-tier 12,000 yuan. And fourth-tier 10,000 yuan. During the probation period, dancers earned 8,000 yuan per month. These amounts only represented the base salary. Dancers also received bonuses for performances and enjoyed perks such as luxury apartments and expensive cars. Even the lowest-tier dancers had annual earnings in the hundreds of thousands of yuan, while top-tier performers earned over 300,000 yuan, 41,000 USD annually. Including bonuses, allowances, and benefits, their yearly income exceeded 500,000 yuan, 68,000 USD. The troupe's leader, Bai Shanshan, was rumored to earn an annual income of about 7,000,000 yuan, 960,000 USD. She enjoyed luxurious transportation and lived in an exclusive apartment in Wenshenzhen Bay, a property owned by Huika Yan himself. In China, for someone in their early 20s to earn such a high income from dancing was highly enviable, especially compared to programmers who spend years studying or office workers enduring the intense 996 work schedule. However, it's important to note that the troupe didn't make money from performances. Many of their performances were unpaid. It's clear that the troupe operated at a loss. To sustain the troupe, Huika Yan had to spend at least 20 to 30 million yuan annually. A savvy businessman like Huika Yan wouldn't usually run a money-losing venture. So why did he continue to support such an expensive operation? A new book titled The Evergrande Legend, decoding billionaire Huika Yan, has just been released. Written as a semi-autobiographical novel, it tells the story of how Huika Yan became one of China's billionaires through his extraordinary charisma and business acumen. In 1996, Hui was just an employee at Zhongde Group, earning a modest salary of 2,000 yuan, about 275 USD per month. Yet he helped the company generate 2 billion yuan. After requesting a raise, his boss refused, prompting Hui to resign and establish Evergrande, starting with a team of just eight people. Amazingly, despite earning only 2,000 yuan per month, Hui quickly acquired a 110,000 square meter plot of land on Guangzhou Industrial Avenue and developed Evergrande's first real estate project, Jinbi Garden. Even more impressive, at that time, Evergrande could only secure a 3 million yuan loan from the bank. But Hui skillfully negotiated to borrow 6 million yuan to invest in a multi-million yuan project. In just one year, Hui completed the entire process, land acquisition, permits, construction, and project completion, selling out all the units. Within that first year, Hui generated 80 million yuan in revenue, marking Evergrande's first major success. However, the book doesn't detail how Hui managed to secure the 6 million yuan loan or navigate the complex banking and government procedures. The only conclusion we can draw is that Hui likely used some kind of secret weapon. What exactly was this secret weapon? Hui Kaiyan never revealed it. However, there's a small clue. After making his first significant fortune, Hui established the Evergrande Song and Dance Troupe in 1999. The troupe's first leader was Lin Dandan, but according to her vlogs, she struggled with communication and was solely passionate about dance, so she was soon replaced by Baishanshan. As previously mentioned, during its first 10 years, the troupe had no public performances and generated no income. Yet the troupe seemed like Evergrande's lucky charm. In the year the troupe was founded, Evergrande developed 13 real estate projects simultaneously, quickly positioning itself as one of China's largest developers. According to internal Evergrande rumors, Baishanshan was Hui Kaiyan's most trusted aide. Any project she was involved in succeeded. And no investor could resist their persuasion. So what exactly did Baishanshan and others like her do to help Evergrande overcome obstacles for decades? This might be one of Hui Kaiyan's top business secrets. The only thing we see are the results. In 2014, Jack Ma invested 1.2 billion yuan, around 165 million dollars, in Hui Kaiyan's Guangzhou Evergrande Football Club. Jack Ma once said, So why did he invest in a project he had no interest in or knowledge of? This move defied his usual business principles. However, a viral video clip offers a glimpse into the story. During a grand Evergrande celebration, employees and guests gathered in a hall to celebrate a major milestone. Hui Kaiyan invited Jack Ma to sit beside him, and the two watched a performance by the Evergrande song and dance troupe. On stage, Baishanshan danced gracefully in a form-fitting costume, her movements captivating. Jack Ma appeared visibly uncomfortable, nervously rubbing his hands, while Hui Kaiyan sat beside him, smiling in satisfaction. After the event, Baishanshan posted a photo with Jack Ma on her Weibo account, with the caption, Of course, we all know how the story ended. Jack Ma's 1.2 billion yuan investment went up in smoke. He wasn't the only one. Zhang Jindong, chairman of Suning Group, invested nearly 20 billion yuan in Evergrande, only to lose everything, contributing to Suning's collapse. In 2009, Evergrande Group was listed on the Hong Kong Stock Exchange. Three of China's top credit rating agencies, including China Chengxin International and Dagang Global, gave Evergrande their highest rating, AAA with a stable outlook, signifying strong debt repayment capabilities. Yet just three years later, U.S. firm Muddy Waters, led by Carson Block, released a report accusing Evergrande of insolvency and accounting fraud. The once highly rated company was now seen as deeply in debt. So, which assessment was true? By May 2015, international credit agencies like Standard & Poor's and Moody's downgraded Evergrande to B with a negative outlook. Chinese media quickly condemned these ratings, calling them a U.S. attack on Chinese companies. How did Hui Qian keep the trust of Chinese rating agencies and continue to present Evergrande as a stable company? His actions give us some hits. Starting in 2017, Hui spent 1.4 billion yuan each year to rent more than 20 floors in the Zhaojue-Huhai building in Shenzhen for Evergrande's headquarters. The building has 42 floors, with the top one being a private club offering amazing views of Shenzhen Bay. The club's interior is said to be very luxurious, but few details are known since most employees could only go up to the 40th floor. Senior executives had access to the 41st floor, which had a restaurant, tea rooms, a gym, KTV, and banquet halls. The 42nd floor was off-limits to almost everyone. Only Hui, his closest associates, and top VIP clients like Jack Ma could enter. Interestingly, the members of the Evergrande song and dance troupe could also freely go there. The troupe was famous for its elegant, traditional performances, with its female dancers often described as delicate as frightened swallows. This was a smart move by Hui, as many of his key partners were older tycoons who preferred these refined, graceful performances over more energetic ones. People once thought this calm, prosperous period would last forever, until 2021, when Evergrande shocked the world by declaring bankruptcy. It was only then that the public learned about the 1.62 million unfinished, abandoned housing units. Oddly enough, despite Evergrande's collapse and the nationwide condemnation of Hui Kayan, he did not disband the Evergrande song and dance troupe, suggesting it held a particularly special place in his eyes. It wasn't until a year later, in 2022, that the number of troupe members registered for social insurance dropped from 78 to 0, marking the official end of the Evergrande song and dance troupe. By 2023, when Hui Kayan was arrested, Bai Shan Shan, the troupe's leader, quickly distanced herself from the scandal. She publicly stated that she was purely a dancer and had never been involved in any unethical activities, emphasizing that every penny she earned was legitimate. What was the true role of the Evergrande song and dance troupe in Evergrande's rise? You may have already drawn your own conclusions. Do you believe Bai Shan Shan's declaration of innocence? And that wraps up today's story. If you enjoyed this content, don't forget to subscribe for more.