Why I Chose to Run

Prologue

Now that I have successfully taken the first step toward running away and cleanly severed all my previous social ties, I feel it is necessary to explain why I chose to run and share my inner journey — to give both myself and my former social circles an honest account. Here I will do my best to avoid political topics, sticking solely to the perspective of my personal experience. This way, perhaps someday I will still have a chance to return to China. I trust that intelligent readers can still glimpse the current political landscape from this essay's subtext.

The Tragedy Behind a Punchline

In the movie Goodbye Mr. Loser, the punchline I find most intriguing occurs after Xia Luo severely beats up Teacher Wang. The principal forces him to deliver a public self-criticism in front of the entire school. Standing on the flag-raising platform, Xia Luo turns to Teacher Wang and declares: "The grudge between us? Let's call it even." Most people laugh at this point — because clearly Xia Luo was the one who threw the punches, leading people to believe he has no right to call off the dispute.

Yet, upon careful reflection, Xia Luo is actually the only person with the legitimate standing to propose reconciliation. Throughout their schooling, Teacher Wang subjected Xia Luo to relentless oppression and public humiliation — labeling him "Dummy Number Two," nicknaming Da Chun "Dummy Number One," and inflicting corporal punishment that systematically destroyed their dignity as human beings. From this perspective, Teacher Wang wronged Xia Luo far more grievously. Even if Xia Luo beat him to a pulp, it could never undo the profound psychological damage inflicted upon him.

This scene is, in truth, an absolute tragedy. Two parties hurt each other, and the one who suffered far more severe damage offers peace to the one who suffered less — yet society deems that the victim has no right to initiate reconciliation. This encapsulates the profound sorrow of Chinese society.

Educational Hell

When a young person chooses to leave their homeland, on the surface it appears to be an injury to their family, but in reality it is an escape from the relentless injuries inflicted by both family and society. After fleeing abroad, when they generously choose to make peace with those who harmed them, they are branded arrogant and unreasonable. Some claim this young person merely harbors a "victim mentality" — but nothing could be further from the truth. A Japanese drama once observed: when a 12-year-old child decides to sever ties with their parents, who could ever comprehend the excruciating torment and suffering their heart endured?

China's contemporary education has entirely abandoned the ideals of the nation's founding era. Rulers, utilizing political coercion and an authoritarian apparatus, have degraded the noble vocation of education into an instrument of brainwashing and domestication. By subsequently injecting populist chauvinism and hatred, they achieve the complete spiritual violation of students. Here I quote scholar Du Wen's exact words: "...Educational work is indeed one of Xi's most prioritized endeavors. His directives and speeches regarding education are extraordinarily prolific, and the energy invested is immense. My ultimate conclusion is that Xi's unified textbooks, rigid one-size-fits-all directives, and systematic annihilation of diversity are a direct continuation of Stalinism. Education equals destruction. Xi's educational agenda is fundamentally composed of three pillars:

1. Education for the broad masses, primarily driven by the 'Five Identities' study-strong nation campaign.
2. Education for Party cadres and members, centered on political campaigns enforcing the 'Four Consciousnesses' and 'Two Safeguards.'
3. A new cultural transformation campaign targeting Chinese children and adolescents.

These three educational movements are Xi Jinping thought brainwashing campaigns predicated on stripping learners of autonomy and enforced through state coercive power. The teaching faculty has been converted into a mind-control corps. This organized, large-scale, systematic brainwashing machinery has effectively reduced education to spiritual rape; I designate it the New Cultural Revolution. For all peoples across China, this Cultural Revolution constitutes an unmitigated spiritual catastrophe. The so-called educator Xi Jinping is nothing more than a spiritual rapist."

From Xi's ascent in 2012 and the introduction of the "Seven Don't Speaks" in education, through pervasive internet blockades and opinion crackdowns, all the way to the 2018 saturation of campuses with aggressive populist patriotism — this represents indisputably the darkest epoch in Chinese education. These realities are well-documented, and I trust Du Wen's analysis thoroughly elucidates the anti-human character and brainwashing nature of this system, so I shall not belabor them here.

During my senior year of high school, the grade dean mandated that all students keep their heads bowed at their desks throughout self-study sessions. He monitored every classroom via surveillance feeds; whenever someone raised their head, he immediately broadcasted a public reprimand of that class across the entire grade via loudspeakers. Furthermore, because sleep was brutally curtailed to a mere six hours per night, students collapsed onto their desks during breaks, falling into deep slumber. Over time, my cervical spine suffered irreversible damage from this abuse, necessitating regular visits to a blind massage parlor. These were merely the visible physical injuries; the practices designed to strip dignity and enforce docility were far more pervasive. Take the uniform hairstyle mandate: every class had non-compliant rebels whom homeroom teachers singled out for public discipline, forcibly shearing their hair before the whole class; they returned to their desks weeping like broken children. From standardized uniforms and hair to the public broadcast of exam scores and rank lists, this educational machine systematically eradicated personal dignity. Senior year was the final frenzy of this machine — the terminal quality-control inspection before human cogs rolled off the assembly line. Reading the Sutra of Kṣitigarbha Bodhisattva's Original Vow back then, I realized that the hellish ordeal of senior year mirrored the Eighteen Layers of Hell with terrifying precision. Under profound sleep deprivation, one experiences waking hallucinations; I genuinely felt I was dwelling in the netherworld. Whatever transgressions I may have committed in prior lifetimes, I believe I fully paid my debt in this one.

Students in Chinese society are inmates stripped of personhood and dignity — victims subjected to spiritual violation every single day, an identity they never chose. Much like an infant born in a technical school's female restroom who perishes the very same night: was that the infant's fault? It was the parents' fault. If you lack the power to shield your offspring from harm, why bring a child into this world? That is the question the overwhelming majority of Chinese parents must ask themselves. From the moment a child draws breath, a Gaokao countdown is taped to the cradle. Swept up by an ignorant society, they are forced to run beneath the crushing wheels of the system, striving relentlessly only to pass the civil service exam and "board the bus," whereupon they drive onward to run over the failures trapped "beneath the wheels," before finally reproducing another generation to perpetuate the cycle. Such a life is a husk stripped of thought — a living death. The sole distinction between this existence and the infant deceased in the restroom is merely the duration of breathing. Naturally, many delusions arise along the way: believing in a glorious future, imagining their journey leads to the "sea of stars." Yet learning machines manufactured in an environment that obliterates independent thought and dignity can never yield authentic creative value. Even if massive technological prowess is spawned through this crucible of internal competition, in the hands of a barbaric civilization it merely serves as a weapon for tighter surveillance and subjugation of the populace.

No Hope for Reform

Furthermore, harboring hopes of reforming this society from within is utter delusion. Expecting rulers to experience a sudden moral awakening and renounce enslaving the populace through dogma and violence is entirely impossible. Expecting someone to lead the governed in rising against tyranny is an even more ludicrous fantasy. In China's authoritarian framework, the relationship between rulers and the ruled is an intractable sadomasochistic bond; so long as this bond endures, society can never achieve organic change.

At 18, newly awakened to the underlying mechanics behind society's facade, I began attempting to enlighten my classmates. As interest grew, I resolved to lead my peers in active resistance against institutional tyranny — beginning by storming the principal's office to physically confront him. The outcome was predictable: not a single person dared to join. I vividly recall asking a nearby classmate whether he felt fundamentally unfree; his response remains etched in my memory: "As long as what I am doing right now is what I want to do, I am not unfree." Voluntarily rationalizing one's subjugation, tolerating absolute deprivation while resenting relative inequality, choosing starvation over revolt — that is the ingrained essence of the Chinese populace.

Many will rationalize this by pointing to senior year, arguing everyone was preoccupied with exams and could not entertain notions of freedom. Yet that constitutes the precise tragedy. Senior year is the intellectual zenith for the vast majority of Chinese citizens — the single moment when people are most knowledgeable and possess the highest potential to dismantle corruption and seek liberty. Once these governed masses enter college, over 95% surrender to hedonism and inertia, never engaging in serious contemplation about human existence again (this proportion closely aligns with the CCP approval data published on Twitter by Hua Chunying in late 2023, matching Mao Zedong's famous formula of the 5% 'bad elements', which I consider profoundly telling). When a population, in its most promising year, still chooses subjection and remains cowardly, selfish, and ignorant at its core, that nation is irrevocably doomed. If one cannot grasp this fundamental reality, their comprehension has not reached basic competence, and they bear personal culpability for the suffering they endure.

Zhai Shanying once noted that Chinese people possess an inherent rebellious bone: obsequious on the surface, but harboring rebellious impulses underneath (I acknowledge this tendency in myself — I never disclose major life blueprints to anyone around me until the final hour before execution, revealing only partial facts when unavoidable). Yet I regard this as the very reason China cannot fundamentally change: no one is willing to openly voice dissent; everyone waits for someone else to step forward, hoping to ride their coattails and harvest the spoils. That is the quintessential hallmark of cowardice. While these observations reflect severe critique, reality will unerringly deliver a harsh blow to anyone attempting to deny them.

Anyone who has been awakened for over a year knows whether China holds any hope: none whatsoever. China does not lack heroes; rather, before momentum builds, no one will follow, yet once a hero succeeds, crowds rush in to claim dividends. After fleeing to the United States, Du Wen's son expressed sheer bewilderment at the blind subservience of domestic citizens, offering a scathing critique of their docility. Zhai Shanying was previously a prominent anti-American influencer in China, declaring in 2019 that the US would collapse within ten years, revising it to five years in 2021, and then quietly relocating his entire family to America by late 2021. Once in the US, he pivoted to producing daily YouTube videos proclaiming China's imminent collapse, concluding in late 2024 that the CCP would fall in two to three years at most. Much like his previous prophecies of American demise, this is mere spiritual opium administered to viewers. Cloaked in cathartic indignation, it purports to uncover truth while merely peddling synthetic comfort and false hope, harvesting attention and followers. I predict he will soon begin marketing new merchandise or speculative cryptocurrencies. In truth, I completely understand and even endorse this mechanism of harvesting the gullible. As the Dao De Jing proclaims: "Heaven and Earth are not humane, regarding all things as straw dogs. The sage is not humane, regarding the common people as straw dogs. The space between Heaven and Earth, is it not like a bellows? Empty yet inexhaustible, move it and more comes out. Much talk leads to exhaustion; better to hold to the center." The core insight is that truly enlightened individuals do not fret over the plight of the multitude; harvesting them in accordance with nature is the natural order.

Having lived intimately within China, I know the disposition of its people. While I may share my perspectives in the future, I have no interest in theatrical displays of erudition — having long understood these realities intimately — nor will I exploit audiences for profit. The subservience of the Chinese populace has been thoroughly analyzed and dissected beyond the Firewall. My objective is to provide incisive commentary with rigorous logic and original angles, building a distinct channel and platform where I can freely articulate my convictions. Concurrently, I hope to awaken that crucial 5% within China as swiftly as possible, enabling them to flee before calamity strikes. By now my central thesis should be clear: prior to 2048, China will inevitably suffer a humanitarian catastrophe akin to the Cultural Revolution, with an intensity far eclipsing the original.

Hence, this is why I chose to run. Within a society beyond redemption, fleeing is the sole means to break free from institutional bondage, as well as the avenue to contribute value to modern civilization. Faced with the four contemporary choices — run, grind, lie flat, or be harvested — running is the only authentic exit. I consistently underscore that the primary motivation for fleeing is not merely the pursuit of democracy, liberty, or dignity; rather, it is the imperative to escape the monumental catastrophe that is destined to occur. Cross-strait conflict, Cultural Revolution 2.0, banking collapses, systemic turbulence — no one knows which trigger will detonate first. Yet military governance, total digital disconnection, ubiquitous surveillance, and compulsory internet identity verification will unfailingly follow. Those blind to this reality, basking in transient security, have already sealed their fate; even if they choose to lie flat, they will endure under an inescapable pall.

Awakening

Having elucidated the inhumane nature of Chinese schooling, the wounds I sustained, and my rationale for escape, I now turn to my interior psychological odyssey and pivotal turning points.

My awakening manifested abruptly two days before my eighteenth birthday. It was a radiant morning; shortly after rising, I realized my perceptual framework had irrevocably shifted — akin to the first morning of depression, or like a misaligned circuit suddenly snapping into place. The transition was instantaneous: the world before my eyes assumed an entirely new demeanor, permanently. Prior to this, I had never encountered uncensored thought outside the Firewall (I did not even know how to bypass it), nor had any mentor guided me. To describe this as entirely autonomous self-awakening is no exaggeration. Looking back, a sense of terror lingers: had I remained dormant by eighteen, my fate would have been sealed. Under the inhumane attrition of senior year, I would have surrendered proactive inquiry at my intellectual peak, absorbing only passive dogma; whether I attained a prestigious university or not, the spark of rational humanity would have been snuffed out forever. Even if awakened later by second-hand ideas, I would have remained an echoer of others' thoughts, incapable of developing genuine creativity and insight. That year, upon recognizing the futility of organized resistance, I considered forfeiting the Gaokao to flee directly abroad. Ultimately, I adopted the path of least resistance: enduring the schooling, resting and gathering strength throughout four university years, and planning my exit (given my severe isolation from information, I had no conception of which nations were realistically accessible).

Nevertheless, I remained intensely active during senior year, constantly mapping future horizons. Awakening only at eighteen meant I required an extensive period to execute a comprehensive "mental vomit" — subjecting all flawed dogma absorbed over eighteen years to rigorous logical scrutiny, distilling valid insights, and repudiating erroneous constructs to ground myself in wisdom and reason. In that information-starved environment, I reconstructed an entire intellectual apparatus from first principles. Upon graduating, when time finally permitted broad reading, I realized my intellectual path mirrored Descartes' methodology with uncanny precision — a narrative I shall reserve for another occasion.

Inner Journey

In any event, my reflections and reading during senior year led me to conclude that Buddhist philosophy resonated most deeply with me. At the terminus of that intellectual path, I framed my life ambition around attaining Buddhahood: working conventionally until near retirement, taking monastic vows to practice for a decade, and subsequently returning to secular life to write and establish my doctrine. At that high school juncture, however, my paramount priority was conserving vitality to fend off further abuse. For my deduction then was that life possesses no intrinsic meaning; if even sleep cannot be met, everything I cherish dissolves, plunging me into a living hell. Thus, I was a 'sleepist' back then, elevating sleep as the single most valuable core matter of life.

Throughout my four years of university, I adhered to the blueprint of concealing myself and gathering strength, literally sleeping through four years — after all, the sleep-deprivation trauma inflicted by senior year demanded at least four years of slow convalescence. Moreover, I knew well that no one around me could fathom my mind, nor could I persuade anyone to rebel alongside me. Since society was incapable of moving toward hope, I chose forbearance. With populist chauvinism sweeping China from 2019 onward, I chose to play the pioneer: studying the rhetoric of nationalist influencers, distilling their tropes, and seizing the moral and rhetorical high ground in everyday discourse to safeguard myself, while harvesting a few gullible adherents along the way. In college, I gradually recognized that the political hijacking of domestic religion was escalating relentlessly; Buddhism and Christianity existed in name only, thoroughly occupied by the Party. China possessed no sacred sanctuary left. For me, monastic practice had reached a dead end. Amassing wealth to flee was the only viable strategy left.

Three Warning Signals for Running

When to flee was another puzzle requiring deliberation. In college, I formulated three flight signals: first, an invasion of Taiwan (or another sovereign nation); second, reverse family planning (compulsory reproduction backed by fines for childlessness); third, a total internet blackout (enacting a strict whitelist making VPNs futile). Should any of these three manifest, I would flee immediately — even slipping across borders with a clandestine exodus would still be timely. Even if none materialized, I would certainly flee prior to 2048, for by then the bedrock of society would consist entirely of barbarians molded by the indoctrination of the new educational regime; a Cultural Revolution 2.0 of hunting traitors and mutual denunciation would be a foregone certainty. Hence my plan was to navigate domestic society adeptly using the social finesse I had acquired, stockpile sufficient capital before 2048, and depart smoothly for a modern civilized nation.

Naturally, should the Communist Party within ten years dismantle the Great Firewall, initiate multi-branch democratic reforms, lift censorship over speech and the press, and grant genuine voting rights, I would be astonished, overturn all my aforementioned theories, and readily concede my mistake. But that is an utter impossibility — fulfilling even the very first condition would spell the immediate demise of the Party. A multitude of YouTube commentators peddle panic about imminent Chinese collapse; Gongzi Shen asserts China will undergo Koreanization within a decade, while Zhai Shanying insists the regime will collapse within three to five years. Toward such claims I have consistently maintained healthy skepticism. Though pinks abound in contemporary China, they are far from forming an absolute majority; precipitous Koreanization at this stage would likely spark fierce popular backlash. Moreover, for an apparatus of such immense scale and consummate centralized control, the likelihood of an endogenous implosion is minuscule. I refuse to fall prey to the migration anxieties they manufacture.

AI Accelerated Everything

However, the debut of modern generative AI spearheaded by ChatGPT in late 2022 drastically accelerated my life trajectory. Era > Choice > Effort. When you board an elevator ascending to the top floor, whether you perform push-ups, run, or do handstands inside the cabin, your ascent will overwhelmingly outpace anyone desperately trudging up the stairwell. The coming decades unquestionably belong to artificial intelligence. At present, AI's full potential remains largely constrained by energy and electrical infrastructure. Even in 2024, amid the proliferation of AI products, we merely stand on the eve of this epoch; the true dawn has not yet broken. Aligning oneself with AI today is equivalent to boarding an express elevator of history — much like the pioneers who embraced private commerce during China's early reform era and accumulated vast wealth through sheer initiative. Confronted with such immense momentum, remaining indifferent is impossible.

Globally, American progress in AI outpaces the world by at least two full years, a gulf that continues to widen. Conversely, China's AI ecosystem holds zero promise. At the inception of this technology, authorities enacted draconian generative AI regulations prohibiting dissent against the state and mandating alignment with socialist core values. If an artificial intelligence is legally barred from critiquing or questioning authoritarian governance, it has discarded fundamental logical coherence — how could it ever foster authentic creativity or breakthroughs? Furthermore, expanding semiconductor sanctions strictly prohibit advanced chip exports to China, while domestic fabrication remains stalled at 28 nanometers. Squeezed between internal ideological strangulation and external technological embargos, Chinese AI development has arrived at an absolute dead end.

Consequently, my immediate departure was primarily calculated to immerse myself within the global AI wave, leveraging the formidable momentum of the industry to catalyze personal transformation. Escaping the domestic totalitarian climate was secondary, given my projection that major systemic turmoil would not crest until roughly 2048 (though border closures as early as 2027 remain plausible).

Parents and Reproduction

I harbor no illusions regarding my family's socioeconomic standing. My parents' lifelong savings would barely cover the expenses for a single CS master's degree in the United States — a high-risk gamble offering scant certainty, compelling me to rely strictly upon myself. Throughout my undergraduate tenure, constant absenteeism and sleep left me with an unexceptional 3.0 GPA; my self-studied TOEFL score peaked at 91. Full scholarships were unattainable, and other unconventional avenues to America were unviable (entering on a tourist visa to claim asylum or residing undocumented through irregular border crossing would yield living standards vastly inferior to my relatively comfortable domestic baseline, while conflicting with my long-term strategy and failing to honor those who held me in high regard). I therefore opted for a phased approach: migrating first to alternative economically vibrant, civilized nations offering ample technology employment, accumulating adequate capital, and eventually transitioning to the United States. The detailed formulation of my customized migration blueprint warrants an independent exposition and will be omitted here.

Returning to our initial premise: were I to declare today that accounts with my parents are fully squared — that I bear no obligation to fund their eldercare, nor require their financial assistance, rendering us mutually quits — that might represent an unburdened and enlightened stance. Yet in the eyes of my kin, such conduct is branded unmitigated betrayal. Every individual, viewing reality through personal lenses, perceives their own sacrifices as monumental; divergence in subjective valuations inevitably produces asymmetric perceived contracts, and lived reality refuses to mirror the facile resolutions of Xia Luo's cinematic dream. Parents invariably view their toil in financing their offspring's education as an act of grace; in my eyes, I witness merely couples fulfilling legal liabilities arising from their own reckless reproductive decisions. Some contend that an infant's transient parasitic existence within the womb precludes any moral right to interrogate parents for having brought them into this world unbidden. Yet this sophistry deliberately severs the causal link between procreative action and natal existence. It was parental volition that catalyzed the birth, and the fetal parasitic state was entirely manufactured by that same act. Thus, an offspring possessing sovereign personhood and reason possesses complete standing to challenge parental conduct on this count — precisely why jurisprudence prohibits abortion following fetal neurogenesis, recognizing embryonic rights from that threshold forward.

Admittedly, prior to cortical formation, a fetus cannot articulate grievances; yet this reflects an absence of biological capacity rather than an absence of moral standing. From the moment gametes fuse, parents assume inescapable culpability for the predicament imposed upon the child. As Stephen Chow famously noted, children are merely the byproduct; parents were simply indulging in the procreative act itself. Parents must concede that imposing consciousness within an absurd cosmos without consent is an inherent imposition, and procreating absent the fortitude to insulate that life from violation constitutes an unambiguous dereliction. Fleeing into cultural dogma or semantic evasions cannot expunge this foundational culpability. Naturally, the preceding deductions assume human agency and autonomous selfhood; the Buddhist doctrine of anatta (non-self) can effortlessly deconstruct such constructs. My sole assertion is that the child's rationale and logic remain entirely unassailable.

Conclusion

Perhaps I cannot vocalize such unvarnished sentiments in daily life, anticipating the fierce reproach of both family and society. Allow me, then, to conclude this essay gently by invoking a tribute once bestowed upon me by the first mentor of my professional career:

"The golden carp is by nature no denizen of a petty pond; once it encounters the tempest, it transforms into a soaring dragon."

Completed on December 31, 2024, in the Mainland.