Cangshu was born in 2000. He joined Meituan as an engineer, part of a generation that grew up believing a stable big-tech career was the ultimate goal. But in May 2026, as AI coding tools matured and companies trimmed headcount across the board, he found himself on the layoff list.

He wasn't surprised. The writing had been on the wall for months. Meituan's core local commerce business had launched an AI transformation department, and middle managers were openly talking about which teams could be "optimized" with AI. "If even Meituan — a company so dependent on offline fulfillment — is cutting people through AI efficiency, then every other company will follow," a colleague had told him. "It's a weathervane."

But here's the thing: Cangshu had a backup plan. For years, he'd been running side projects — building communities, selling skills, creating small digital products. At his peak, the side income was hitting 100,000 RMB per month. He'd watched people in his communities jump into AI entrepreneurship before him — "they started their own companies, hired people, and here I was still grinding at my job. Is that right?" he'd asked himself.

The layoff gave him the push he needed. Three days after leaving Meituan, he went all-in on his own venture: building products for overseas rare disease communities, developing systems and standalone tools. He documents the journey on Xiaohongshu and social media under the handle "Cangshu (Quit Monthly Salary Edition)."

"AI或许是人类有史以来最强的智力杠杆，它可以把个人能力放大n倍，可以支撑大部分初创产品的落地，也可以让每一个好的idea被快速看见并定价。"

His pace is staggering compared to the big-company rhythm he knew. A small tool takes three or four days. A complex system might take two weeks. He releases constantly, stays close to users, and pivots fast — all things that were impossible inside the bureaucracy of a giant company.

"公司帮我做了决定," he says. The company made the decision for me.

He doesn't want to be one of the "desperate 10%" — the fraction of programmers who remain after AI eliminates the rest, fighting tooth and nail for survival. Instead, he's betting that in the age of AI, the real opportunity isn't climbing someone else's ladder. It's building your own.

"既往不恋，纵情向前" — don't dwell on the past, move forward boldly. That's the line Meituan puts in every departing employee's farewell text. For Cangshu, it's not just corporate messaging. It's real.