My First Minimum Lovable Product

My first minimum lovable product: jinkungfu. From using Kimi to help me with content creation for easy course papers, to using Cursor without learning any programming to write a game, to seeing the amazing performance of some AI browsers, then releasing a minimum lovable product I felt was presentable (XD recommend partnering with a developer instead of fumbling around yourself), and seeing a teacher share Google Pixel 10’s AI phone in the group—the world feels so upended.

The most important thing is still taking care of our biological brains so we can make good use of our external AI brains. Recently I also listened to a podcast by cake-researcher, and found that the jobs that might be replaced the slowest are probably blue-collar work—quite funny, really.

Here’s an essay I really like:

“A Letter of Apology” (from “The World Is Never Silent”)

In this inscrutable world, I finally no longer try to correct myself every moment. Saying sorry—I, an ordinary mortal, might as well just let myself go right now.

If I could, I’d really like to write a letter of apology. There’s no specific person who needs an apology. I just feel this world has many regrets that I cannot erase, nor do I deny their value. This world often makes people feel dejected. Being born human, I’m sorry.

Whether you can catch the train, whether the grapes at home are fresh, whether the night journey home is safe, whether relationships will be lasting and reliable—the problems we face moment by moment are concrete and real. Even the most cherished things may become dispensable amusement. There’s so much we’re helpless about. It’s not that the world is too cold, but that you’re unwilling to face reality. I admit I often live in the ethereal, and the illusions this produces bring happiness. I’m no longer a willful child. For escaping reality, I’m sorry.

Sometimes I wonder whether being born in this era is luck or tragedy—able to witness miracles yet having to face fickleness. Because I fear misplaced sincerity, worry about cold responses, I can only be measured and keep my distance. I’m sorry.

Our envy for those who can turn ordinary life into magic far exceeds our envy for those who command great affairs. Endlessly pursuing success is simply a dead-end path in life. We don’t need to see more successful people—we need to see more free and useless souls. We need to be friends with all kinds of people who understand life and create joy. We need each other to tell stories, need a peaceful heart to heal the various wounds this world inflicts, and need someone who understands love. I’ve received many expectations from others. I haven’t become the person they expected, nor have I agreed with their definition of success. I’m devoted to properly wasting time. I’m sorry.

In the second-hand bookshop on Charing Cross Road in London, I paid three pounds for a novel and found a yellowed leaf tucked inside a page—I don’t know whose bookmark it was. The veins on the leaf are so clear. It’s been preserved well, like a specimen, more like a small masterpiece. In this complex world, you can’t remember every detail, but someone always experiences beauty and happiness in the details. Flowers bloom with sound—I didn’t hear it; osmanthus drifts its fragrance—I didn’t smell it; water is soft and mountains are warm—I didn’t feel it. Plants and animals all have the meaning of life. Was missing so much beauty worth it? I’m sorry.

I seem to have never become an insider of any industry or type. Maybe it’s self-protection, maybe it’s not wanting to live in the gaze of circles. Staying at arm’s length is to stay clear-headed, fearing unknowingly becoming heavily dramatized without realizing it. I want to have an outsider’s mindset—not having to worry about deviating from mainstream values, not having to fear being isolated or marginalized, not having to force myself to become someone recognized by this world, and certainly not having to exhaust my life’s energy fighting for glorious labels. I cannot be an insider who shares your joys and sorrows. I’m sorry.

If you always take care of others’ feelings, you might even leave the impression: no temper, no edges, easily compromising. But disagreements are woven into human interactions—it’s just about whether it’s worth saying outright. I won’t say things that go against my heart to please anyone. When I disagree with your viewpoint, I’m sorry.

Humans are social animals. From kindergarten onward, we cannot escape group life. We enter one group after another, living in the group’s gaze. But actually, the group’s evaluation isn’t fatal. In any circle, whether you fit in really doesn’t matter. If you can’t be slick and polished, don’t force it. I won’t distort myself, saying things I don’t mean, doing things to flatter and please. I’m sorry.

I envy those who aren’t afraid to refuse others, who don’t obey blindly even if they offend people. I envy those who live in their own world with attitude and conviction. Such people, even covered in thorns, at least live openly and authentically. For my indecisiveness, my inability to say “no,” and the flood of requests and self-grievances that brings, I’m sorry.

Although everyone gives love many noble names—like sacrifice, devotion, expecting nothing in return—I just can’t be that noble. My love wants to possess, wants to be short-sighted, wants to be everywhere, wants affirmation. If you truly love, don’t you hope to occupy a place in the other person’s life? Don’t you involuntarily become blind to everything, finding even each other’s flaws adorable? Don’t you want every minute to be undoubted? Whose love isn’t stubborn and biased? Why can’t you be narrow-minded? I’m sorry my love isn’t noble enough.

Humans can only maintain one self throughout life. No matter how deeply you love, how much you want to entrust yourself to another—parents, friends, lovers—in the end, only yourself remains. The longer you live, the more impossible it becomes to let others make decisions for you. Thinking about it this way is quite lonely. Humans are the creatures on this planet who are best at producing relationships, yet the loneliest. For the loneliness of being human, I’m sorry.

Those without enough wisdom easily fall into emotions. I don’t have high enlightenment. Some truths I have to experience myself before understanding, gradually realizing that even the most turbulent life will have turning points. Spring always comes, puzzles always get solved, and I will eventually let go of my troubles. Sorry for the long wait.

This is an era that has no time for personal emotions. If you’re sentimental or unrealistic, you become a joke or seem pretentious. Emotions themselves are indeed not conducive to development, but they often become the driving force behind events. Some people succeed or fail entirely because of that one breath of emotion. Emotions hide behind events and gain weight. Don’t keep them as secrets. I’m sorry—pain is pain.

Even the happiest person in the world isn’t perfect—they’re just better at accepting that things take their natural course. I’ve had my blood pumping with excitement, but effort doesn’t guarantee everything. I admit my powerlessness. Being human, unable to change much, I’m sorry.

I apologize to myself for those moments when I wasn’t brave or firm enough and hurt myself. I apologize to others for the things I couldn’t arrange properly, for the moments I couldn’t make them happy. In this inscrutable world, I finally no longer try to correct myself every moment. Saying sorry—I, an ordinary mortal, might as well just let myself go right now.