Plant-Based Milk Favored by White Women: The "Domestic Alternative" Caught Fire Decades Earlier

This generation of consumers is no longer the kids who used to get excited for blue gift boxes after hearing the “brain-boosting” ads. They’ve learned to read ingredient lists, calculate costs, and even started DIYing on Xiaohongshu. When the packaging of a plant-based milk becomes more “valuable” than its contents, and marketing language outpaces product quality, the so-called “health,” “wellness,” and “childhood memories” become just additional value that can be replaced.

Author | Arui

Editor | Anfield

Cover photo | Chengde Lulu official website

Have you shed the weight gained during the holidays?

While you comfort yourself with “most of the short-term weight gain is water,” and search for “intermittent fasting tips,” you’re likely to come across a bunch of low-calorie drink recommendations. Many know that these drinks are only seemingly healthy, yet some still buy into the hype of “anti-inflammatory” and “fat reduction.”

But ironically, the “health” angle isn’t working well in the plant protein beverage sector anymore.

Take Oatly, the oat milk giant, for example. After a brief boom, it quickly fell into consecutive years of losses. It finally turned a corner in 2025—achieving $130 million in annual revenue in Greater China, up 13.1% year-over-year, leading growth among the three major regions—yet a closer look at the financials shows that most growth came from channel expansion and localized products, with actual sales of finished products slightly declining.

Back when Oatly was at its peak, some people dismissed it: plant proteins? We have soy milk, walnut drinks, almond drinks, and they’re cheaper. These are what truly suit the Chinese palate.

Drinks made from five grains and cereals at home might be the healthiest plant-based option. (Image / “Good Stuff”)

Even so, the old brands of plant milk are not having an easy time.

From the data of the first three quarters of 2025, Vitasoy, Six Walnuts, and Chengde Lulu all saw revenue declines of nearly 10%. Especially, Yunnan Yasheng, the parent company of Six Walnuts, saw its revenue drop from a peak of 9.117 billion yuan in 2015 to 6.058 billion yuan in 2024—a one-third decrease—and net profit nearly halved.

In fact, data from Ma Shang Ying shows that in 2025, plant protein drinks ranked second in growth slowdown among beverage categories in terms of both sales share and year-over-year growth, just behind dairy-based drinks.

Whether labeled as “white girl standard” or “ancient wisdom carefully selected,” whether using “zero calories and zero sugar” language or ads promoting “drink six walnuts often to keep your brain sharp,” brands’ attempts to emphasize science or tradition are no longer effective.

Are consumers finally disillusioned with plant-based drinks?

Is childhood flavor now only “limited to Northern New Year celebrations”?

“Shanhe Si Province won’t let Lulu go bankrupt,” a netizen said, supporting childhood drinks amid Lulu’s performance pressure.

But Lulu’s market position is quite delicate. Someone brought Lulu to colleagues after the New Year, and “the office became distinctly northern and southern”—northern folks drink it “tons,” while southern folks think it tastes “like loquat ointment.”

Among domestic plant-based drinks, Lulu and Six Walnuts are often compared. (Image / social media screenshot)

For years, the domestic plant milk scene has maintained a “South Coconut Tree, North Lulu” pattern. Northern people see it as a must-have New Year gift, while Southerners find it somewhat unfamiliar. The association of plant milk with holiday scenes also means it’s somewhat disconnected from daily life.

What Southerners don’t realize is that Northern netizens even have their own factions: “Almond drink, walnut drink—who’s your favorite Lulu?” “We’re divided into those who don’t drink at all, Six Walnuts fans, and Lulu fans—three groups that don’t understand each other.”

Both almond and walnut drinks are packaged in blue tin cans, which can easily cause confusion. A closer look at the trademarks reveals they are not from the same company. Although foreign brands like Oatly sparked the plant milk trend, Chinese plant protein drinks have been competing since the last century.

The leader, Chengde Lulu, dates back to 1950 when the Chengde Canned Food Factory was established. In 1975, leveraging Hebei’s abundant wild apricot resources, it developed China’s first plant protein drink—almond drink—and became a pioneer in the category. The “Lulu” trademark was first registered by Chengde Lulu in 1991, so many consider it the authentic Lulu.

Chengde Lulu cleverly leveraged the traditional idea that “almond drink can soothe the lungs” to expand its market. (Image / “Phoenix Quartet”)

In 1997, Chengde Lulu was listed on the Shenzhen Stock Exchange, becoming one of the first listed companies in China’s beverage industry. That year, it achieved main business revenue of 530 million yuan and net profit of 54.71 million yuan, with over 90% market share, leading the plant protein beverage sector.

Meanwhile, about 500 kilometers away in Hengshui, a startup called Yunnan Yasheng also began making drinks but hadn’t achieved much success. It wasn’t until 2005 that the team decided to pivot, and with the now-famous “Six Walnuts,” it finally gained recognition.

With Chengde Lulu paving the way, Six Walnuts quickly caught up. In 2010, Yunnan Yasheng invested heavily in TV advertising during prime time, embedding the phrase “brain-boosting, drink Six Walnuts often” into the childhood memories of many, with annual sales soaring to 1.5 billion yuan.

(Image / IC photo)

Post-90s Northeasterner Fang Qing recalls: “When I was a kid, almost every restaurant in our area served hot-water-blanched Lulu. I loved drinking it. Our family was Lulu’s loyal fans, and we bought it for New Year.”

Post-95s from Henan, Xiao Lin, also remembers that her parents often chose Lulu and Six Walnuts as gifts during Spring Festival. This year, relatives sent her two crates of other brands of walnut drinks, but the familiar blue tin cans still made her feel nostalgic. Her mother decided to keep the gift, but gave away the milk from other relatives, thinking “Lulu is so good, I always have trouble digesting milk.”

However, when they opened the box, they found that the seemingly large box only contained one layer of drinks, not two as expected. Xiao Lin’s mother suddenly realized: “No wonder this year’s gifts are a few dozen yuan cheaper—there’s less in it.”

The later entrants of Lulu also learned the “gift-giving essence.” (Image / interviewee provided)

Clearly, this elegant packaging isn’t meant for drinking, but for giving. As for who ultimately opens the gift during the Spring Festival flow, perhaps it doesn’t matter.

In fact, even ignoring the eye-catching gift boxes, the cost of the tin can packaging used by Lulu and Six Walnuts accounts for over 50% of the total cost. Unlike common aluminum cans, they use more expensive tinplate, making the product look more refined and raising the price.

Ma Shang Ying’s research shows that in a relatively saturated market and traditional stocking channels, the overall performance of plant protein drinks is better. Whether walnut or almond drinks, multi-pack products sell significantly better than single bottles. However, even during peak gift-giving seasons (Q1 of 2023–2025), the share of plant protein drinks in the beverage category continues to decline.

As packaging becomes more elaborate, the content seems to weaken. Xiao Lin glanced at the ingredient list on the can, which read “low sugar,” with water and white sugar listed as the top ingredients.

This “misleading” situation isn’t unique to Lulu. Looking at the “health labels” that made these old brands famous—“With Lulu in hand, I have health” and “Drink six walnuts often to keep your brain sharp”—a closer look reveals that the traditional “shape supplements shape” approach, rooted in old wisdom, no longer holds up in today’s data-driven era.

The wave of plant-based milk’s rise is fleeting

Six Walnuts has been accused multiple times of false advertising, and even faced consumer complaints: based on actual ingredients, a bottle of walnut drink might contain fewer than two walnuts. Yet, Yunnan Yasheng’s official statement is that “Six Walnuts” is just a trademark, not an indication of the number of walnuts in the drink.

How many walnuts are actually in Six Walnuts? (Image / “Long Time No See”)

If they had adopted Oatly’s approach earlier—perhaps replacing the brain-boosting claim with scientific theories about the prefrontal cortex—Six Walnuts might have prolonged its glory a bit longer.

In 2012, to expand Oatly’s oat milk market, then-CEO Toni Petersson took the lead, claiming oat milk could compensate for dietary fiber missing from cow’s milk and that its production was more environmentally friendly. In interviews, he even used the slogan “It’s like milk, but made for humans,” implying “milk is for calves,” which sparked protests from dairy companies and caused quite a stir.

In 2018, Oatly entered China just as a new consumer wave was rising. By 2020, with its partnership with Starbucks, it gained popularity among urban middle class.

If Lulu or Six Walnuts had anticipated this, perhaps they wouldn’t be so passive today. But at the time, their performance was steady, and they didn’t make big moves to attract attention. Later, when oat milk fell from its peak, Chinese plant protein brands hadn’t yet reacted, missing the opportunity.

The halo of oat milk vanished quickly. (Image / social media screenshot)

Consumers’ loss of interest in oat milk came faster than expected. The grand narrative of environmentalism and veganism failed to resonate with Chinese consumers. Although lower in calories than full-fat milk, oat milk is more expensive and its nutritional value is less comprehensive, turning many away. Previously, Chinese drank plant-based drinks mainly due to milk shortages; now, unless lactose intolerant, most prefer the richer taste of real milk.

Of course, domestic brands aren’t unmotivated. In 2021, Six Walnuts launched a no-sugar version; Lulu released a “Half Sugar” series in 2022 and a herbal health series in 2025. They are trying to catch up with changing times. But they still rely heavily on their core traditional products. The latest data shows Six Walnuts still accounts for 88.64% of Yunnan Yasheng’s revenue, and almond drinks make up over 90% of Chengde Lulu’s income.

Lulu’s defeat wasn’t due to oat milk, but to time. The high-end trend sparked by oat milk was too short-lived. Today’s health drinks have evolved to version 3.0. Calorie anxiety, functional claims, scene-based consumption—consumers are becoming more rational and segmented. Light milk teas, fruit and vegetable teas, slimming bottles, low-calorie coffees—product iterations are accelerating.

Young people would rather endure unpalatable drinks like turmeric powder than continue to indulge in various artificial sweeteners. So how should Lulu craft a compelling story that makes consumers want to buy?

Is it about taste or health? Consumer preferences are complex. (Image / “Tianya Xia Yi”)

Fang Qing can’t help but complain: “I kept seeing ads for Lulu herbal drinks in the elevator. Because of childhood nostalgia, I bought the new product to try. After tasting it, I just want to say: Please go back to making almond drinks, okay?”

Fang Qing’s comment might reflect the feelings of many consumers. When “Lulu Herbal” tries to extend its myth with new concepts, it ends up shattering childhood illusions.

This generation of consumers is no longer the kids who used to be thrilled by “brain-boosting” ads and blue gift boxes. They’ve learned to read labels, do cost calculations, and even DIY on Xiaohongshu or ask AI directly. When a bottle of plant-based milk is more “valuable” for its story and packaging than its content, and marketing outpaces product quality, the so-called “health,” “wellness,” and “childhood memories” become just replaceable added values.

Ultimately, what disenchants consumers isn’t the plant-based milk itself, but the old era that relied on stories and packaging to sway the market.