In the turbulent era of Jack Ma, I’ve always looked down on Zhang Chaoyang.

But recently, seeing Zhang Chaoyang’s state, I truly was taken aback.

It’s already 2025, the outside world is twisting into a mess, AI models change daily, yet Sohu is still relying on a single “Tian Long Ba Bu” to support its livelihood.

Quarter three profits of 6 million USD, with 1.2 billion USD in cash sitting in the account, enough to spend endlessly.
This isn’t running a company, it’s more like guarding a treasure trove while practicing immortality.

Thinking of my classmate who’s into hardcore tech startups, he’s constantly begging for millions in funding, drinking with investors until his stomach bleeds, losing hair faster than his code.

And look at Charles Zhang—owns multiple buildings for rent, has tens of billions of yuan in personal accounts, casually deriving relativity in front of a blackboard, and sometimes humming “Dear, that’s not love.”

People used to mock Sohu for falling behind, but now we realize—they’ve long been living at the finish line.

In this era of collective anxiety, the highest form of showing off wealth is “I’m not playing with you anymore.”