Not selling because Yong He is losing money

Han Zhong stresses that the closure isn’t due to financial loss.

“We can still break even,” he explains over the phone. “It’s not that we’re making a loss. But it’s just not sustainable anymore – not physically, not mentally.”

He is currently seeking $300K either for a full takeover or as an investment from someone who wants to run the business together with him. “I’m open to negotiation,” he stresses. “The important thing is finding someone who can help carry this properly into the future.”

He arrived at the figure after roughly factoring in severance for longtime staff and payments to suppliers – though he admits he hasn’t had much headspace to plan beyond that.

Running two shops, sleeping in his car

The past year has stretched Han Zhong to his limits. While managing the Geylang HQ, he was also juggling the launch of Yong He 1986, a new takeaway outlet at Far East Plaza that opened around three months ago. Han Zhong is a co-owner, but clarifies the concept was fully funded by a close friend – he declined to share the sum. “I provide the food, recipes and expertise. My friend handles operations,” he says.

Because he had to split his attention, the flagship Geylang shop became increasingly difficult to sustain. As footfall dipped, many of Yong He’s long-serving staff – who are mostly in their seventies – chose to resign voluntarily just to help the shop survive. “We used to have more than a dozen workers. Now there are only three left,” he says, his voice softening.

Running two shops, sleeping in his car

The past year has stretched Han Zhong to his limits. While managing the Geylang HQ, he was also juggling the launch of Yong He 1986, a new takeaway outlet at Far East Plaza that opened around three months ago. Han Zhong is a co-owner, but clarifies the concept was fully funded by a close friend – he declined to share the sum. “I provide the food, recipes and expertise. My friend handles operations,” he says.

Because he had to split his attention, the flagship Geylang shop became increasingly difficult to sustain. As footfall dipped, many of Yong He’s long-serving staff – who are mostly in their seventies – chose to resign voluntarily just to help the shop survive. “We used to have more than a dozen workers. Now there are only three left,” he says, his voice softening.

Former “shao ye” washing dishes and cooking daily now

With no manpower to spare, the self-proclaimed former “shao ye” (young master) who once enjoyed a comfortable life suddenly found himself washing dishes, cooking, cashiering, and serving tables. The 24-hour operations meant he often slept only a few hours a night – sometimes in his car parked nearby. 

Despite the gruelling work, there was no space for self-pity. “Since I had committed to taking over the business, I was determined to do whatever it takes,” he says. 

His mum’s health scare was the breaking point

At 78, his mother had been semi-retired, popping in occasionally to help. He affectionately calls her “the empress dowager”. But as she watched him shoulder the entire shop alone, she quietly returned to help every night.

“She didn’t want me to suffer,” he says. “She thought if she helped a bit, it would ease my burden.”

Then, one day, her leg began swelling badly. It worsened so quickly that he rushed her to the doctor. The cause was a viral infection; she needed to be hospitalised for observation. Even in her hospital bed, she worried only about him.

She kept asking if I could manage the shop without her, and whether we could even afford the hospital bill,” he recalls. “It was heartbreaking to hear that from someone you love.”

That moment shattered him. “I always believed that as the third generation, it was my responsibility to keep Yong He going no matter what,” he says. “But when I saw my mum like that… suddenly I felt very guilty. I started to ask myself – is this worth it? Am I being selfish for insisting on keeping the business going?”

“It’s not Yong He that failed, it’s me”

Though Yong He isn’t making a loss, the manpower crisis meant he could no longer maintain the standard customers expected.

“With so few of us left and fewer customers than before, some things couldn’t be made fresh on the spot. Like the shao bing, in the past we made them one by one. But now sometimes we have to make a batch and keep them warm. We’ve also received mixed reviews for our you tiao; some say it’s too hard, others have said it’s too soft.”

“I was too busy just trying to survive each day”

He takes full responsibility. “Yong He’s standard was built by my parents. When I couldn’t maintain it, I felt like I failed them. It’s not Yong He that failed, it’s me.”

The stress of constant firefighting meant he also couldn’t think strategically. “As a business owner, you need headspace to plan, to find investors. But I was too busy just trying to survive each day,” he says.

Parents still behind him

After months of deliberation, he decided that if no one comes forward, the Geylang shop will wind down at the end of November. “What Yong He needs now is capital and manpower,” he says simply. “One person can’t do everything.”

His parents support the decision. His father trusts him fully, while his mother – now recovered and back at the shop – urged him not to overwork himself anymore. “Before I took over, I had a comfortable life,” he says. “My mum doesn’t want to see me like this.”

Uncertain future for three-month-old spin-off Yong He 1986

The fate of the spin-off Far East Plaza outlet remains uncertain too. Because its branding is similar to Geylang’s, its future depends on what the eventual owner of the brand (if it’s sold) decides.

“If the new owner wants us to stop using the name or change it to avoid confusion, we’ll follow,” he says. Han Zhong’s friend, who fully financed the shop, has agreed to “wait and see”.

But one thing is clear: this friend cannot become an investor for the Geylang HQ. “That’s a much bigger amount,” he explains. “I won’t burden him.”

If no buyer takes over the main Yong He business, then Han Zhong will continue co-running the Far East Plaza shop. “If that’s what my friend wants, I won’t abandon him.”

“I worked as hard as I could”

While the impending closure is painful, he insists he has no regrets. “I really did my best,” he says. “I worked as hard as I could. I’m proud of that.”

He is preparing himself for the possibility that the Geylang shutters may come down for good, though he still hopes someone will see value in preserving Yong He’s legacy. And perhaps there’s a sliver of hope: since the announcement, he has heard that a potential interested party may reach out – though no conversation has taken place yet.

Yong He Eating House’s tentative last day of operations is on Nov 30.