A sudden scandal has engulfed Liu Wenxiang Malatang, a fast‑expanding Chinese franchised chain, after multiple outlets were accused of selling duck meat labeled as beef and pork. The brand posted a lengthy public apology on March 16 admitting lapses in oversight and a permissive "local procurement" policy, but the message was removed from the company account within hours and the chain's social feed was wiped clean.
Allegations surfaced across several cities, including video and consumer complaints that items marketed as "beef" or "pork" were in fact duck. Independent checks by local market regulators found examples of products advertised online as "real beef bacon" that carried ingredient lists identifying them as beef‑flavoured items made from duck. Price differentials exposed a motive: a vendor quoted pure‑beef rolls at about 28 yuan per jin while duck alternatives were sold for roughly 7 yuan, creating incentives for substitution in a low‑margin franchise model.
The crisis has also drawn formal enforcement action. A consumer in Yantai's Penglai district lodged a complaint dating from February 12 that she found a metallic object — described by authorities as a suspected knife tip — in her food, causing a lip injury and prompting a market surveillance bureau to open an official case under China's Food Safety Law. Platform‑level complaint trackers show hundreds of grievances: searches for the brand turn up more than 850 entries on a major consumer complaint site, with reports ranging from hair and nutshells in dishes to unsealed tofu packages.
Liu Wenxiang's public apology acknowledged a structural weakness: the chain's rapid roll‑out — more than 2,800 franchised stores by January 2026 — outpaced its compliance and supply‑control capabilities, and a decentralised procurement approach allowed some franchisees to source local ingredients outside company‑approved channels. The apology promised immediate measures, including suspending cooperation with implicated outlets, nationwide self‑inspection, installing in‑store surveillance and tightening local purchasing permissions. Hours later the statement vanished and the headquarters account cleared its content, a move that has been read online as a clumsy handling of crisis communications.
The chain's rise was fuelled by social‑media virality earlier this year when a short‑video character popularised the brand, driving foot traffic and rapid franchising. Management temporarily halted new franchise enquiries on March 2 in a bid to protect operational quality, but the scandal highlights the tension between scaling fast and maintaining centralised food‑safety controls. Analysts note the brand's recruiting pitch emphasised a looser franchise model in which, beyond a mandated base seasoning, franchisees had latitude to source many ingredients locally — a feature that reduced start‑up costs but left the brand exposed to substitution and contamination risks.
This episode matters beyond one restaurant chain. China's authorities have been intensifying scrutiny of food‑safety practices and consumer protection, particularly around high‑visibility brand failures that attract national attention. For franchised fast‑food concepts that rely on rapid expansion and local procurement, the incident signals heightened regulatory and reputational vulnerability, and could prompt tighter supply‑chain rules, more frequent inspections and heavier penalties for noncompliance.
For consumers and investors, the immediate consequence is erosion of trust. For Liu Wenxiang the path ahead will demand restoring traceability and control: either by rebuilding a certified central supply chain, deploying real‑time surveillance and auditing across franchisees, or by contracting fewer, vetted suppliers. How the company balances legal exposure, remediation costs and the marketing fallout will determine whether this becomes a contained quality‑control episode or a lasting business setback that reshapes franchising practices in the sector.