I stumbled upon an unexpected discovery.
My former classmate has become something of a TikTok celebrity, with almost a million followers.
I didn’t know he was a TikToker until I saw his channel recently by accident. He posted his first video shortly after I graduated. But now, just a year later, he’s thriving in a different world.
His content is simple—study tips, and college life with his girlfriend. They are both standout students at Peking University, China’s top university, and they possess the kind of appeal that draws thousands of likes and comments from teenagers.
Meanwhile, I find myself alone in my apartment at midnight, coding for a company in the autonomous driving industry—a job that, more and more often, makes me feel hollow.
I used to be with them, studying at the best university, immersed in philosophy, uninterested in wealth and status. Back then, AI was more than just a career path; it was my philosophical pursuit.
Just a year has passed, and the college days were far gone for me.
Life moves briskly. Change seems inevitable.
A colleague in his 30s once told me, “At our age, all you have in your mind is making money.” I couldn’t agree with him at the time. I thought it was due to his mediocrity.
But I should take back my words now.