Looking back at the cultural and tourism sector in recent years, it has never lacked so-called "lifelines."

From "immersive experiences" and the "metaverse" to "intangible cultural heritage empowerment" and "scenarios," each new concept introduced reflects the industry's deep-seated collective anxiety in the cultural and tourism sector—and also carries with it the industry's fervent hope for a breakthrough. In an era where consumer demands are becoming increasingly diverse and personalized, past strategies for success are quickly losing their effectiveness, while the path to future growth remains painfully unclear.

As the "large-scale" and "integrated complex" cultural and tourism development model becomes increasingly cautious due to its high investment and high risks, the "small but beautiful" cultural and tourism approach—characterized by low investment, short project cycles, and rapid results— It perfectly aligns with the market's psychological expectations.

But the problem is that when everyone starts viewing "small and beautiful" as the new goal, it could quickly shift from a differentiation strategy into a fresh race toward homogenization. More often than not, this may lead us straight into a new trap—simply "thinking it's beautiful."

Putting the cart before the horse—treating form as content.

In the pursuit of "small but beautiful," the most common mistake is to reverse priorities—placing emphasis on superficial elements and technical gimmicks over the core cultural essence. Whether it's immersive audiovisual experiences powered by lights, sound, and technology, or spatial designs that evoke a strong "sense of place," these should always serve as the "0" that enhances the content and enriches the experience. At the heart of it all—the true "1"—must remain the unique cultural depth and captivating storytelling that truly resonate with audiences.

If a project merely sports the "small but beautiful" facade without delivering core content that resonates deeply, lingers in people’s minds, and inspires them to return for a second or even third experience, it will ultimately fade away like a fleeting flower. While technology can evolve and settings can be refreshed, only those unique contents that forge profound emotional connections with people have the power to endure across time. Investing too much of your resources—both financial and creative—into superficial elements like decoration and marketing, while neglecting the deep exploration and innovative reinterpretation of local culture, is precisely the trap that "small but beautiful" projects most easily fall into.

The biggest trap of "small but beautiful" projects is that they easily fall into the awkward situation of being "small yet identical." When project developers abandon their pursuit of grand, awe-inspiring experiences and instead embrace small-scale, meticulously managed models, their sources of inspiration often become strikingly uniform—such as a trendy internet-famous café, a nostalgic check-in spot, or an artisan workshop dedicated to intangible cultural heritage. Looking around, countless "small but beautiful" initiatives in ancient towns and rural areas exhibit remarkable similarities, whether in terms of business model combinations, visual styles, or even marketing strategies.

This is essentially another form of "lazy development." In the past, it meant replicating large scenic areas and grand amusement parks; now, it’s about copying the "small yet refreshing" and "small but certain happiness" trends. Many of these initiatives remain only skin-deep—superficially appealing but failing to genuinely resonate with consumers—and ultimately end up getting drowned out by the market. The rise and fall of specialized特色小镇 (characteristic small towns) serve as a cautionary tale: once hailed as a lifeline to boost the economy, they eventually succumbed to widespread, uncoordinated rushes into development, coupled with a glaring lack of strategic planning, leading to severe homogenization and overcapacity.

"Small but beautiful" is often equated with "deep experience," but in reality, small-scale ventures hardly ever manage to deliver a "deep experience."

Many projects offer only superficial, fragmented check-in-style experiences. The phenomenon of tourists "taking photos but not buying" or "visiting and leaving immediately" remains fundamentally unchanged. At the heart of the issue is that these projects have failed to make the crucial leap—from "information delivery" to "emotional engagement."