A 32‑year‑old software engineer and department manager at a large Guangzhou technology firm collapsed at home on the morning of November 29, 2025, and was later declared clinically dead. His wife, Ms. Yang, says he had been with the company since 2019 and was promoted to management at 28; a department transfer in 2024 coincided with a sharp rise in working hours and responsibilities.
Colleagues and family describe a classic case of role creep and understaffing. After a round of internal transfers and an organisational reshuffle, the man—identified as Guanghui—found himself managing a reduced team while continuing to write code and handle after‑sales and sales tasks. He routinely took on work his team could not absorb, arriving home later and later and often finishing tasks alone at night.
The pressure intensified three weeks before his death, when yet another structural adjustment left the department short‑staffed and with a growing backlog of tasks. Co‑workers recalled seeing him still at his desk late into the night, muttering that the work was "impossible to finish." Ms. Yang noticed that her husband slept so deeply he could only be roused by her; some nights he did not return home until midnight.
On the morning he died, Guanghui complained of pulmonary discomfort but continued working from the living room. He collapsed from his chair and was later found unable to stand, with incontinence reported by his wife. At hospital he asked that his laptop be brought with him; medical staff pronounced clinical death after attempts at resuscitation. The hospital record cited "cardiorespiratory arrest and 'A‑S syndrome'" as the cause.
The company has expressed regret and has applied to the local labour and social security bureau for a work‑injury (gongshang) determination. The Guangzhou Huangpu District human resources authority says the application is being processed and evidence is being collected; a formal appraisal will be issued within the statutory period. Company representatives declined further comment when journalists sought additional details.
The human side of the story is stark. The couple, who married after meeting at university, had postponed having children; they began trying to conceive in 2024 and were preparing for parenthood when he died. Ms. Yang described a talented programmer who loved coding, feared being fired yet was too loyal and competent to be dismissed. Among his belongings she found a management handbook—"Congratulations, you are a manager"—and notes expressing a desire to "be considerate of subordinates," an irony that colleagues and family find bitterly emblematic.
This case sits at the intersection of several national trends. China's technology sector has undergone waves of hiring, rapid expansion and then contraction in recent years, producing frequent reorganisations and heavier workloads for remaining staff. Public memory remains fresh of earlier high‑profile sudden deaths tied to long hours in the industry, and debates about overtime culture—colloquially linked to slogans like "996"—continue to animate regulators, workers and the public. The formal work‑injury recognition process will determine compensation and potential corporate liability, but it will not, on its own, resolve deeper questions about staffing models, managerial incentives and workplace health safeguards.
For employers, the incident highlights reputational and legal risks associated with sustained understaffing and managerial overload. For policymakers it underscores pressure to enforce labour protections and to push for clearer limits on overtime and organisational structures that concentrate risk in a few overburdened employees. For workers and families the human cost is immediate and personal: a career trajectory that promised promotion and stability ended in tragedy, and an ongoing investigation will be watched for how the firm and local authorities balance corporate interests against worker welfare.