Still, the company returned most original deposits with a 32.5% premium every 14 months, and most investors apparently plowed the profits back in to buy more ants. By some accounts, the average household invested $5,200, money often derived from settlements farmers received after their land was appropriated for development.
A rival in the same province was sentenced to death for a similar ant-breeding operation early last year that conned people out of $387 million. Yilishen's 17-floor headquarters of glass and steel is located in the northeastern city of Shenyang, where the economy is struggling with a legacy of state-run factories. The building, now shuttered, is adorned with drawings of smiling bugs with the slogan "ant power."
Several victims interviewed in Shenyang accuse their leaders of letting them down.
"We've believed in the government so much, but they did this to us," said a woman in a red coat who was interviewed in front of the office. She declined to be identified, citing concern that she could be arrested. As she spoke, two police officers approached and ordered a reporter to leave immediately or face interrogation.
Another victim said authorities had intercepted his e-mails about a meeting with a reporter and ordered him not to go.
An hour from Shenyang, in his sparse brick farmhouse lighted by a single bulb, Li showed the glossy book given to new investors, with pictures of Wang glad-handing celebrities and senior officials.
Li fears he has lost everything. But still, he and his wife keep their boxes stacked beside their foot-powered sewing machine. They continue to feed their ants and wouldn't dare open the boxes, still clinging to hope that their investment might somehow turn around.
Before Yilishen shut down, its website claimed the company had moved well beyond ants to encompass a high-tech marriage of traditional Chinese medicine and modern technology.
When it started missing payouts, Yilishen announced that new funds from investors in Kuwait would allow it to pay everyone by Nov. 20.
That didn't happen, and thousands of anxious ant farmers descended on the company headquarters and provincial government offices. Authorities claim irate investors overturned cars and blocked rail lines. But one witness said the crowd was peaceful and that the real aggressors were the hundreds of riot police officers who detained and roughed up victims.
In late November, Wang paid his workers $185,000 to organize a counter-demonstration outside government offices, according to state media. This led to Wang's arrest a few days later -- for disturbing public order.
"In retrospect, I can see it was a fake company with a fake website," said a woman who identified herself by the surname Sun, who said she used collateral from her apartment to invest almost $38,000 in ant boxes. "I feel so fooled. We just want to know what happened to our money."
Yin Lijin of The Times' Beijing Bureau contributed to this report.
