Text | Author: Yueyue, Gossip Girl of Finance

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Let me ask everyone a question:

When it comes to family business succession, what’s your first reaction?

Some say passing the torch to the son, others say the son-in-law takes over, and some mention internal family conflicts. But recently, Sister Ba发现 that the trend of daughters-in-law taking charge is gaining popularity in the capital markets.

For example, last year, a 95-year-old daughter-in-law from a latex OEM factory in Jiangsu took over the family business’s mess, but she broke out of the low-price price war, using price hikes and reputation to turn the tide; there’s also a 30-billion-yuan Baijiu leader in Anhui, whose son stepped back early, and the daughter-in-law directly became Vice Chairman…

They are no longer just “luxury vase” figures in traditional narratives or supporting roles in internal conflict plots, but have become key executives, shareholders, directors, and successors with real power.

So why let the daughter-in-law take the lead? Some say the son is truly incapable—bad at everything, the first to slack off; others say it was an unexpected crisis—family’s pillar collapsed, and the daughter-in-law had to step up with a tough attitude… A netizen joked:

“The daughter-in-law chosen by the parents-in-law to succeed is definitely more reliable than the rebellious son!”

1./ 95-year-old daughter-in-law takes over family mess, the first move is to raise prices/

Right after the 618 shopping festival last year, a major OEM in the domestic latex bedding industry—Jin Xiangshu—appointed daughter-in-law Ma Guanqi to succeed, responsible for the family’s e-commerce business.

Don’t underestimate this company; it’s a brand under Jiangsu Jinshiyuan Latex Products Co., Ltd., with four factories in China and Thailand. Its peak annual revenue exceeded 1 billion yuan, making it an invisible champion in China’s latex bedding industry. Jinshiyuan once listed on the New Third Board and started IPO counseling on the Growth Enterprise Market in 2023, but there’s been no progress yet.

Ma Guanqi is a 95-born, with a master’s in business data analysis from the US. She’s always been a bystander in her in-laws’ family business, but over time, she noticed the company was declining year after year.

“When I just returned, I thought the professional management team could boost sales, so I didn’t need to intervene. But in the past two years, it’s been going downhill.”

How bad is it? Let’s feel the mess she inherited:

Sales plummeted 40% year-over-year, main product lines losing money on every sale, industry mired in price wars, team’s confidence in the product category at an all-time low, and all they knew was “lower prices.”

In short, she’s not here to “gold plate,” but to “put out fires.”

In her first week of taking over, she reviewed the financial model from scratch and was stunned. “The gross profit margin across the store was paper-thin, and while the main product line appeared to be increasing volume, in reality, every order was losing money.”

Even more outrageous, after nearly 20 years, the finance and production departments didn’t even know when to stock up for e-commerce—completely relying on experience and intuition.

Faced with this dilemma, Ma Guanqi made a decision seen as “self-destructive” internally: to raise prices across the board despite the risk of losing market share. The team was stunned: “Prices are already too low to sell, and you want to raise them?”

Her logic was simple: the entire industry was engaged in suicidal price cuts, using worse materials, damaging reputation, and heading for collective death. Instead of following the trend and dying together, it’s better to stop the bleeding proactively. She openly said:

“Looking only at the front end—adding and subtracting—after deducting promotion costs, there still seems to be some room. But that’s not the full picture. The back end has huge shared costs waiting for us. Factory depreciation, personnel costs, operational expenses—everything comes from here. To build a brand, you need to do the math thoroughly to see how far you can go.”

The pain from the price hike was inevitable—customers left, competitors laughed, and market share shrank rapidly.

But her business philosophy was clear: first, reshape the price range, then do natural latex science education on Xiaohongshu, focusing on the “student thin mattress” scenario, a core demand, and finally coordinate production with the front-end strategy.

Sales data proved her right. In Q3 2025, Jin Xiangshu ranked third on Tmall and first on JD.com. Overall sales increased by 40%. The student thin mattresses, priced at twice that of competitors, doubled in sales. Before Double 11, gross profit was restored to a reasonable level, and the main product line turned profitable.

During the toughest times, a phrase supported her through:

“Success may not be achieved by you, but it will definitely involve you.”

The 95-year-old daughter-in-law Ma Guanqi, with her professional data analysis and branding mindset, successfully pulled a traditional enterprise out of the price war quagmire and revitalized it.

2./ Anhui’s 30-billion-yuan Baijiu leader, son not capable, daughter-in-law takes over/

If Ma Guanqi is the “firefighter,” then Zhang Dandan is the textbook case of a “princeling daughter-in-law” turning official.

Zhang Dandan’s father-in-law, Ni Yongpei, 73, is the founder of Anhui’s leading Baijiu—Yingjia Gongjiu, a private Baijiu listed company known as the “second in Anhui liquor,” with a market value around 30 billion yuan.

The old man’s entrepreneurial journey was tough. In 1997, he restructured a small local distillery, pouring heavy funds into land acquisition and market expansion through direct acquisitions of hotels and supermarkets.

After establishing a foothold in Anhui, in 2014, Yingjia Gongjiu launched mid-to-high-end Baijiu priced between 600-800 yuan, and succeeded.

In 2015, Yingjia Gongjiu was listed on the Shanghai Stock Exchange’s main board, making the old man the oldest private Baijiu company’s actual controller. But as he aged, the question of succession arose.

Ni Lao only has one son, Ni Qingshen, who studied in New Zealand and held various positions in the group, including director in 2012.

Strangely, in 2017, during a board reshuffle, he suddenly left the core management team and did not renew his director position. Since then, he disappeared from the management roster, only holding shares.

With the son out, who would succeed? Media speculated that the old man planned to groom his daughter-in-law as the successor, given her resume matching the “princeling” template:

Starting from the grassroots, serving as head of sales, finance, HR, deputy general manager of Yingjia Mountain Villa, assistant to the group chairman, head of securities investment—by 2017, she became vice president of the group.

Although the son stepped back, the daughter-in-law proved capable! In 2019, Zhang Dandan became General Manager of the investment company; in 2020, she was appointed Vice Chairman of the group. By 2023, she became the third-largest shareholder of Yingjia Group, holding 8.76%, second only to her father-in-law’s 22.06% and her husband’s 9.48%.

In October 2025, Zhang Dandan officially became Vice Chairman of Yingjia Gongjiu. This was the first time this position was created since the company’s listing, a clear step closer to formal succession.

In the Baijiu industry, seniority and lineage matter most. The old man didn’t give the position to his son or hire outside professional managers, but instead promoted his daughter-in-law step by step. This also shows that, in his eyes, she’s more reliable than his son or outsiders.

As a “family member,” with both comprehensive business experience and shareholding in capital, her succession path is very clear.

3./ The “daughter-in-law” who refuses to be a “luxury vase” begins to shoulder the family business/

Compared to traditional family succession, daughters-in-law stepping in is still relatively rare.

But as more founders grow old, succession has become a “Damocles sword” hanging over family businesses. Many face the same dilemma: sons don’t want to, can’t, or aren’t capable; daughters are married off and inconvenient; sons-in-law are afraid of splitting assets or seizing power. After endless picking, it turns out that daughters-in-law becoming successors is often the best solution.

For example, Wanchang Technology, listed in 2011, just three days after ringing the bell, saw founder Gao Qingchang suddenly pass away, plunging the company into chaos.

Who would hold the fort? Son Gao Baolin inherited shares, but the one who truly stabilized the situation was daughter-in-law Yu Xiuyuan.

Yu Xiuyuan, an accountant by background, served as deputy general manager, CFO, and ultimately became chairwoman. After her father-in-law’s death, she took charge in a crisis, stabilizing both the capital market and internal team during turbulent times.

Many think succession means becoming chairman, appearing on TV, giving speeches at annual meetings. But it’s not only about holding the top position; in many traditional families: sons manage production and factories; daughters-in-law handle assets, finances, and equity.

For example, the Midea family, a top Chinese conglomerate, is often associated with the famous He Xiangjian and He Jianfeng father-son duo, but few notice that daughter-in-law Lu Deyan manages the family’s real estate sector.

Lu Deyan is very low-profile. In 2013, to develop the real estate business independently, He Xiangjian transferred all Midea Real Estate shares to her name, and Midea Real Estate began to rise.

Her son He Jianfeng handles investments, strategy, and external image (Yingfeng Group); her daughter-in-law Lu Deyan manages real estate, property, and stabilizes the core business. The daughter-in-law holding real industry assets looks like the “ballast stone” of the family.

Another family-influenced A-share bread leader—Taoli Bread—has third daughter-in-law Xiao Shuying as a key figure. Though rarely in headlines, her name appears in announcements—shareholding, capital operations, reductions, and shareholding structures.

For example, in February this year, Taoli Bread announced that the actual controller Wu Zhigang and his associate Xiao Shuying planned to reduce holdings. Xiao Shuying owns about 6.017 million shares, accounting for 0.38%, preparing to liquidate.

In short, those who can manage money are the real insiders.

Why is “daughter-in-law succession” increasingly popular in A-shares? Because sons don’t want to, can’t, or have their own careers outside; instead of forcing a weak successor, it’s better to replace them directly.

But daughters-in-law seem inherently “safer” than sons-in-law—after all, sons-in-law are outsiders, and may seize power or resources. Daughters-in-law, married into the family, have children with the family surname, which in the eyes of elders, makes blood ties more trustworthy.

But for family businesses, the cruelest and simplest truth is—whoever can keep the company alive, gets to lead. Sometimes, ability matters more than bloodline.

So now, a new trend of “daughter-in-law succession” is emerging in the market, and the older generation’s succession ideas are opening up:

Passing on talent is better than passing on the son; whoever can do it, takes it.