Sweat drips down Ke Hui’s face as the relentless beep of new orders fills the cramped coffee chain shop. It’s only 8:30 a.m., but orders are piling up fast. He has just two minutes to prepare each drink, and cameras track his every move. Any delay could result in a reprimand — or worse, a cut in pay.

For thousands of workers in China’s booming, billion-dollar beverage industry, where speed is everything and mistakes come at a cost, this is the daily grind.

“I feel like we are all on a tightrope right now,” Ke, a 25-year-old vice manager of a Luckin Coffee store, tells Sixth Tone. “We want to serve all customers well, but the workload on each of us is just too overwhelming.”

China’s ready-to-drink beverage market has experienced rapid growth, with the industry surpassing 260 billion yuan ($36.8 billion) in 2023 — a 22.8% increase from the previous year. By mid-2024, over 70,000 brands were competing for market share, offering a range of drinks including coffee, tea, yogurt, and juice, with chains like Mixue Ice Cream & Tea, Luckin Coffee, Good Me, and Cotti Coffee leading the way in store numbers.

These budget-friendly brands have adopted a streamlined model, offering a limited menu in compact storefronts, allowing them to expand rapidly and keep prices low — coffee ranges from 10 to 22 yuan ($1.42 to $3.11) and tea as low as 6 yuan.

As these stores expand nationwide, the industry has opened up countless job opportunities, but the push for profits and efficiency has taken a toll on the well-being of frontline workers.

In recent months, a series of incidents has drawn attention to the intense working conditions in the industry.

In June, a Shanghai barista threw coffee grounds at a customer after a dispute over a delayed order. Another barista in Shanghai clashed with a customer over wait times on the same day. And in late September, a viral video ad from the bubble tea chain Good Me showed employees publicly shamed with signs around their necks for mistakes like “forgetting a straw” or “failing to add nuts.”

The incidents sparked widespread debate on social media, with some criticizing the baristas’ actions while most sympathized with the workers, calling for more respect and understanding.

Frontline employees from coffee and tea chains frequently vent about their demanding jobs online — from endless fruit chopping and strict food safety rules to relentless sales promotions and clashes with impatient customers. The hashtag “Luckin Slave,” a term used by Luckin Coffee employees to describe their intense work environment, has garnered over 11 million views on the lifestyle app Xiaohongshu.

“Retail prices for coffee and tea drinks are dropping due to a price war that’s forcing businesses to cut costs and boost efficiency,” said Wang Zhendong, chairman of a coffee industry consulting firm. “This operational pressure is being passed directly onto frontline employees.”

To understand how this competition is reshaping the industry, Sixth Tone spoke with workers from some of China’s top coffee and tea chains, uncovering the real cost of rapid expansion on the frontlines.

Tick-tock

At 25, Ke, who spoke to Sixth Tone using a pseudonym for privacy reasons, has spent more than three years as a vice manager at a Luckin Coffee store in Jinan, the capital of eastern Shandong province. Despite his title, his duties mirror those of the regular staff.

His day begins well before 8 a.m., arriving an hour early to clean and prep the machines. “The most exhausting times are every day during the morning, lunchtime, and evening rush hours,” says Ke, whose store churns out over 1,000 drinks daily.

Nestled in a busy business district, the store sees a flood of orders each morning — more than 200 within the first 30 minutes. They pour in through multiple channels: in-store, delivery apps, and pre-reservations. Even with five fully automatic machines to handle grinding, extraction, and cleaning, the workload remains overwhelming. With only two to four workers on duty, a single barista may prepare up to 500 cups a day.

According to industry experts, brands determine staff levels based on productivity metrics and revenue targets. “When we assess employees, specifically their efficiency, we tend to evaluate it based on the total output,” explains Wang. “However, the actual work experience of the employees may be more reflective of the peak, busiest times. So, sometimes, the numbers can indeed feel rather cold and detached.”

A barista from Manner Coffee, a fast-growing coffee chain with over 1,400 stores, echoes this, telling China Youth Daily that staffing is often tied to store revenue. “If daily sales fall below 3,000 yuan, it’s a one-person operation. For every additional 2,000 yuan, another worker is added.”

The clock starts ticking the moment an order is placed. A scan code on the label tracks how long each drink takes to make and updates customers with their estimated wait time.

At Luckin Coffee, the country’s top coffee chain, this system is tied directly to performance. “Timeliness rate” — a key metric — impacts full-time employees’ salaries, which typically range from 3,000 to 4,000 yuan a month for baristas, and up to 10,000 yuan for store managers. At Ke’s store, each drink must be prepared within two minutes, regardless of how many drinks are in a single order. And “timely” orders should constitute 90% of the daily total.

This year, Luckin Coffee added a “late delivery rate” for takeout orders to its performance assessments, according to Ke. If more than 1% of takeout orders are delivered late — meaning they take over 30 minutes — employees can lose up to 20% of their performance-based pay, further increasing the pressure to work at breakneck speeds.

Employees at other brands told Sixth Tone they don’t face such strict evaluations, though some admitted similar expectations for order preparation time.

During peak hours, meeting the “timeliness target” can be nearly impossible when orders flood in. “We aim to make a drink within 30 seconds because everything at Luckin is about efficiency,” explains Ke. “But we can’t keep up with the pace during peak times.”

To avoid missing the target, baristas sometimes mark an order as completed before the drink is made, a risky move that often leads to customers arriving for drinks that aren’t ready. “It annoys the customers, and it frustrates us too,” says Ke. “But if we don’t scan early, we risk losing pay.”

At Manner Coffee, while production times aren’t as strict as Luckin’s, employees have reported that drinks should be prepared within 30 seconds during peak hours, based on system calculations.

Manner’s reliance on semi-automatic machines makes this even more challenging. “Packaging is also troublesome,” one Manner employee told China Youth Daily. “In winter, we wrap drinks in foil; in rainy weather, we use waterproof bags. Folding cardboard boxes for multiple cups adds extra time.”

Huang, a former employee at Heytea, a leading tea chain, who requested to be identified only by his surname citing privacy concerns, echoes these challenges. He explains that store managers are evaluated on speed and efficiency, with pressure passed down from regional managers.

“From the moment an order is printed to the time it’s packed, it should take about two minutes under normal conditions,” he says. “And no more than 10 minutes during peak hours.”

Watched and weary

To maximize efficiency, beverage chains across the country have turned to a vast network of surveillance cameras and sensor-equipped machines. Every move — from handwashing to preparing ingredients and final delivery — is meticulously tracked, ensuring that workers meet the demands of speed and consistency.

This digital oversight has allowed Luckin to rapidly expand to over 20,000 stores across China while maintaining strict quality control. “While the store manager’s sense of responsibility is very important, what’s more important is that we’re training our decision-making system to provide the best arrangements and instructions, rather than relying on the store manager’s experience,” Qian Zhiya, founder and former CEO of Luckin Coffee, once said at a 2019 industry conference.

Yet, following company policies isn’t always easy, especially when the penalties seem harsh. “Any violation caught by the cameras usually means writing the rules five times over,” Ke says. In late 2023, media reports highlighted the toll of Luckin’s sanitation policies, with workers suffering from rough, cracked hands due to frequent handwashing.

While Luckin Coffee did not respond to Sixth Tone’s request for comment, Ke noted a policy shift in response to the public outcry, reducing handwashing from once an hour to every two hours.

Still, sanitation remains a major part of the job. “We spend at least five hours a day cleaning,” says Ke. The disinfectant water, which is changed every 30 minutes, can be harsh on skin. “Most of us have peeling hands because the disinfectant is so strong. Gloves help, but they’re uncomfortable to wear all day.”

Nayuki, a popular high-end tea chain, isn’t as strict as Luckin but still keeps a close watch through special inspections. “People from headquarters call if they spot any misbehavior, which would affect our merit pay,” says a 19-year-old part-time employee surnamed Ding.

Beyond corporate surveillance, workers also face the challenge of navigating customer demands, even when they seem unreasonable. Handling complaints or being flagged on camera for poor service can lead to pay deductions.

“Some customers just don’t show understanding,” says Ke. He recalls an incident when a customer ordered a hot drink but later requested a cold one upon pickup.

“When she arrived, she touched the cup and said, ‘Who drinks something hot in such warm weather? I ordered wrong. Why didn’t you remind me?’ My colleague explained that certain drinks are defaulted to hot, but she took it as a threat and filed a complaint.”

That night, every employee working the shift was hit with a 100-yuan salary deduction, along with a 200-yuan cut in performance pay.

Breaking point

Under such intense working conditions, many workers struggle to last. And with operational costs being slashed to maximize profits, staff are being pushed to the brink.

Ke, like many others, finds himself staying late to finish tasks that go unpaid. He often remains at the store until 10 p.m. to check inventory and sanitize, duties considered part of his regular workload and not classified as overtime.

Huang, the former Heytea employee, has faced similar staff shortages. His store’s kitchen staff dropped from five to just three, leaving each worker to juggle multiple tasks. “Each person ended up handling more,” he recalls.

Staff crunches are the result of companies slashing operational costs to stay competitive in a fierce price war.

Over the past few years, budget-friendly options like Luckin’s 9.9 yuan coffee and Mixue Ice Cream & Tea’s 7 yuan milk tea have forced even high-end brands like Heytea and Nayuki to lower their prices.

“As prices drop, operational costs continue to rise — from raw materials to delivery commissions and packaging. All this may affect profitability,” explains Wang, the industry consultant.

In this race for profits, companies often first close stores, as rent is the largest expense, followed by raw materials. “Labor costs come next, but employees have the weakest bargaining power in all attempts to reduce costs,” Mu Yichen, an investor in the beverage sector, told China Youth Daily in August.

The influx of overqualified workers, including university graduates, has also driven down wages. According to Wang, baristas now earn significantly less than they did in 2021. “At the best of times, it was easy for newly hired baristas to earn 5,000 to 6,000 yuan after tax. Now, it has dropped by about 500 to 1,000 yuan,” he says.

Wages and working hours in the ready-to-drink industry vary significantly based on location, brand, and position.

For instance, a part-time barista at the Nowwa coffee chain in the eastern city of Xiamen earns 22 yuan per hour for a six-hour shift, while a manager at the Good Me milk tea chain in the eastern city of Hangzhou works up to 10 hours a day with a monthly salary of 6,000 yuan. In the southern city of Shantou, employees at the Coco bubble tea franchise can work 13-hour days for around 5,000 yuan a month.

Hiring part-time workers has become a common strategy for companies to cut labor costs. “In reality, part-time workers are often used as full-time equivalents,” explains Wang.

At Ke’s store, most of his colleagues are part-time employees. While they earn 20 to 25 yuan per hour in Jinan — considered high for the region — they miss out on full-time benefits, including social security. In Shanghai, the rate can go as high as 35 yuan per hour, but the lack of job security remains a growing concern for part-timers.

“Utilizing different forms of employment is linked to market behavior, and corporations should be allowed to adopt various approaches,” says Liao Mingzong, a labor law expert at Deheng Law Offices in the southern city of Shenzhen. However, he adds that workers, including part-timers, can appeal to legal authorities if forced to work overtime without compensation.

Wang Wei, an assistant professor at Peking University in Beijing, warns that the widespread use of part-time labor could lead to a less stable workforce, requiring stricter corporate oversight. “The more part-time staff there are, the stricter the supervision needs to be,” Wang Wei recently told domestic media, “Otherwise, normal operations won’t run smoothly.”

While the booming beverage industry continues to draw young talent with its low entry requirements, the harsh realities of working in large chains are driving many, like Huang, to seek out independent coffee shops.

These smaller establishments offer a chance to focus on the craft of coffee making rather than just keeping up with the grind of mass production.

After four years at Heytea, where he rose from a full-time employee to store manager, Huang found his career path blocked as the company froze promotions and cut costs. Faced with increasing responsibilities but few opportunities for advancement, he decided to resign this summer. “I may plan to go back to my hometown and open a beverage shop of my own,” he says.

Jiang, a former shift supervisor at Starbucks in the southwestern metropolis of Chongqing, made a similar move this year, opting for a more laid-back environment at a boutique coffee shop. Though her salary remains around 4,200 yuan a month, she now enjoys a more relaxed pace, free from the pressures of selling seasonal promotions like mooncake gift boxes or adhering to rigid corporate protocols.

“In a boutique shop, I can immerse myself in the art of coffee,” says Jiang. “I really enjoy latte art, so I might focus more on that.”

At her new workplace, she values the deeper connections she’s able to form with customers, sharing her knowledge of coffee beans and even forging friendships — a far cry from the rushed transactions at larger chains, where the priority is speed, not interaction.

Jiang understands the pressure on workers, having seen firsthand the tense exchanges between staff and customers that fueled recent public debates. “I’ve been in their shoes,” Jiang says. “When things go wrong, it’s the staff who take the fall, with little support or understanding from management.”

Editor: Apurva.

(Header image: Luckin Coffee staff at work in Shanghai, 2021. IC)