If you looked at it purely through a business lens, Jingzhe is probably not the kind of product I was supposed to build.
Before starting Jingzhe, I had spent seven to eight years in the internet industry, and five to six years studying BaZi along the way. I had seen products grow from zero to one, worked with startups, and observed how teams think, build, and scale. At the same time, I had a long-standing interest in Eastern metaphysics, Buddhist texts, Taoist thought, Confucian ideas, and other systems of understanding life and human nature.
And yet, for a long time, I had no intention of entering this space.
The reason was simple: I did not want to turn fortune-telling into an anxiety-driven business.
I had seen too much of what was wrong in this category. Some people sell mystery. Some sell dependency. Some use a single phrase—this is simply your fate—to flatten the complexity of a real human life. But the longer I studied, the more convinced I became that the real value of metaphysics was never about delivering verdicts. It was about helping people understand themselves.
In March 2026, I began building the first prototype of Jingzhe. Only later did I realize that the day I started was, by coincidence, the solar term Jingzhe itself.
At first, the name had simply come to mind on impulse. But once I noticed the timing, it began to feel like more than a name. It felt symbolic: the first thunder of spring, when what has been dormant starts to awaken, and what has remained unseen finally has a chance to come into the light.
That was exactly what I wanted to make.
Jingzhe is a self-discovery product rooted in Eastern metaphysics and enhanced by AI. What it aims to offer is not a prediction of what your future will be, but a deeper understanding of why you became who you are, why certain patterns keep repeating, what phase of life you may be in, and what kinds of directions may fit you better.
I've come to believe that what people need most is not always an answer. Often, what they need is a clearer framework for understanding themselves. Metaphysics gave me one such lens. AI made it possible, for the first time, to turn that lens into something clearer, more approachable, and more usable for modern life.
So Jingzhe did not begin as a carefully calculated business plan.
It felt more like something that emerged naturally once the timing was right.
I had studied this world enough to see both its value and its limits. I had the product and internet background to build. And I happened to be living through a moment when AI dramatically lowered the barrier between idea and creation. If I had to name the real starting point of Jingzhe, it wasn't market timing or traffic logic. It was something simpler:
A desire to bring a more honest, more rational, and more empowering way of understanding oneself to more people.