I’ve read many colleagues’ farewell notes, but when it was finally my turn to write one, I suddenly didn’t know what to say. There’s still some time before my last day, but let me say goodbye a little early.

I’m very happy to have spent eight and a half years of my youth at a tech company. Here I met a group of like-minded companions, and I learned and grew alongside many excellent people; I worked on quite a few projects, wrote a fair amount of technical writing, and helped some colleagues who ran into problems. Thank you for the recognition and support along the way, and thank you for the challenges and doubts I encountered — all of these made me who I am today.

In the last few years especially, my partners and I built a team from scratch and fought through many hard battles together. Thank you to every partner I’ve worked with over these years: you are all excellent, and each of you has earnestly pushed things forward in your own position. Reaching this point feels like handing in a stage-by-stage answer sheet for this career journey; everything has settled, and I’ve happened to arrive at the station.

Of the people who led me over these years, some gave me the chance to explore new directions, and some helped cover for me when I stepped into pitfalls. Every experience taught me a great deal and gave me enough room to try and err, which is what made my later growth possible.

When you walk with your head down, time always passes quickly. This journey has gone a long way, and it has long since diverged from the goals I originally set for myself. Many people, partway along the road, gradually transform through experience and grow into someone they never imagined before; just as writing always strays far from the topic — after all, that is life.

Only, I often ask myself: what is my original aspiration? If I came carrying that original aspiration, then I want to leave following my true heart.

By now I’ve figured out a few things. I don’t believe in absolute truths, and I don’t think I’m a particularly clever person; I just hope to be as candid and clear as I can. I still like “Context, not control” a lot: to help more people as much as possible, based on good will and on encouraging people. Such a me may not be brilliant, but I hope I can at least keep a clear conscience in my own simple-minded way.

I’ve loved this journey very much. It turned me from someone who didn’t know what he could do into someone who no longer fears the unknown and change. I still like this company as well; partings are inevitable in life, and it’s simply time to say goodbye.

At the end of this journey, let me share a short story from Liezi’s “Shuofu” (Explaining Omens), which is also what I’m thinking right now:

Yangzi’s neighbor lost a sheep. Leading his own household in pursuit, he also asked Yangzi’s young servant to chase after it. Yangzi said, “Alas! You lost one sheep — why so many pursuers?” The neighbor said, “There are many forked roads.” When they returned, Yangzi asked, “Did you catch the sheep?” He said, “It was lost.” “How was it lost?” “Among the forked roads there were further forks, and I did not know which way it had gone, so I came back.”

What I’ll do in the future isn’t decided yet, but this journey ends here for now. If I were to sum up this career, I would say: the road was sunny and bright all the way, and dazzling enough.

Thank you for the recognition along the way. To the partners I’ve worked alongside, chatted with, and exchanged ideas with — let me say goodbye first. I hope you’ll all take good care of your health, your mood, and your families. If we get the chance someday, let’s meet again to eat, drink, and shoot the breeze.

See you in the jianghu.