When a Queue Becomes a Marketplace
Where there's demand, there's always someone looking to profit.
The chaos attracted scalpers—"huangniu"—selling queue numbers on-site. Kaojiang had previously posted public statements rejecting scalping and rolled out countermeasures, but the reality on the ground was harder to control.
A reporter at the mall described seeing scalpers holding thick stacks of printed queue slips. One scalper claimed that online the going rate was about 150 RMB per number, but he was willing to sell for 100 RMB, calling it "the lowest price."
Some say scalpers can make over 1,000 RMB a day, just from flipping the right numbers to the right people at the right time.
Meanwhile, real customers kept paying in something more valuable than cash: time.
One visitor arrived around 3–4 p.m. to take a number—there were already 354 tables ahead. They waited until 2 a.m., and still didn't get to eat.
In most cities, that would kill the hype.
In Shanghai, it became part of the story.
The Most Unusual Store Location Decision: 45,000 Votes
The opening itself was dramatic—but the way Kaojiang chose its Shanghai location might be even more striking.
In late 2025, Kaojiang's official WeChat account asked a question that brands often ask as a formality:
"Where should our first Shanghai store be?"
The options were the usual "prime commercial logic" list: Xujiahui, People's Square, Jing'an Temple, Wujiaochang, Huaihai Road.
At first, Xujiahui dominated—exactly what you'd expect from traditional retail thinking.
Then social media got involved.
A comment under the post—"Can Wujiaochang work?"—collected 925 likes. Students from universities around Wujiaochang started campaigning like it was election season. They rallied in group chats, WeChat Moments, comment sections.
In the end, the poll drew around 110,000 viewers, with nearly 45,000 actually voting. Wujiaochang won with 23,113 votes, more than half of the total—an upset that effectively "voted" Kaojiang into the neighborhood.
It's rare to see consumers influence a site decision so directly. This wasn't just a store launch. It was a store summoned.
"Open One City, Ignite One City": Why Kaojiang Keeps Exploding
Shanghai isn't Kaojiang's first viral stop.
Beijing, September 26, 2024: first store opened—2,000 tables queued in one day, waits starting at 7 hours.
Xi'an, January 16, 2026: first store opened—2,600+ queue numbers, average wait around 6 hours.
A pattern has emerged: wherever Kaojiang opens, lines spill into midnight. People don't just eat—they endure.
So what's driving it?
1) Hype that feeds itself
Kaojiang builds momentum through pre-opening social media warm-up, influencer visibility, celebrity appearances, and tasting events. The slogan—roughly travels fast because it's simple, punchy, and easy to repeat.
2) The queue is part of the product
In modern urban consumption culture, long waits can act like a billboard. A line signals scarcity; scarcity signals value; value pulls more people in. The line becomes content. Content becomes traffic. Traffic becomes a longer line.
3) They're selling a mood, not just a meal
Spicy grilled fish is already a "high-emotion" food: bold flavors, heat, shared plates, late-night energy. For many customers, it's not only about taste. It's about participating in the moment.
Even Kaojiang's founder, Leng Yanjun, admitted the brand expected queues—but not queues this extreme: "Queuing was expected; queuing this long was not." Before the Shanghai opening, she predicted it would be popular, but not necessarily a repeat of Beijing's intensity.
Shanghai proved otherwise.
How Long Can the Heat Last?
Online reactions have split into two camps.
Some call it marketing theatre—manufactured scarcity, influencer-driven frenzy, a "viral bubble" waiting to pop.
Others sound more measured:
"It's tasty and the service is fine, but whether it's worth that wait depends on the person."
"Let it play out. It's too crazy right now—check again after the holiday."
"Give it a few months. Real consumers vote with their feet."
And that may be the key.
Shanghai has seen plenty of "internet-famous" restaurants follow the same arc:
Explosive opening → scalpers → nonstop social buzz → impossible expectations → backlash → decline
This is the "traffic rebound" stage—when the hype becomes so loud that even a good product struggles to match the fantasy people built in line.
Only a few brands make the jump from viral to lasting. To do that, Kaojiang will need more than queues and slogans. It will need consistency: flavor, service, operations, and a reason to come back when the line is gone.
Because in the end, a 15-hour wait is a headline.
But what keeps a restaurant alive is what happens when the wait becomes… 15 minutes.