The Phantom Snowy Mountain

This is a record of a late-night conversation between Lin (my husband) and me (C), concluding in the early hours of January 11, 2026. Earlier that day, on January 10th, Lin happened to share a haunting tale from Ultraman called "The Phantom Snowy Mountain." It’s the story of Yuki, an orphan girl ostracized by her village as the incarnation of a legendary Snow Woman. Whenever she suffers, a giant monster named Woo emerges from her pain to protect her by wreaking havoc. In the end, as Yuki dies, Woo becomes transparent and vanishes into the snowy peaks.

That night, amidst my own swirling anxiety, Lin encouraged me to pour my heart onto paper. In his subsequent reply, he used the imagery of that snowy legend to help me make sense of my pain and the restlessness in my soul.

My Letter

Lin:

It’s 2026 now, and I’ve realized that lately, I’ve become prone to irritability and restlessness. Perhaps it’s because AI is evolving too fast. At work, my superiors’ expectations of us have skyrocketed, and in my personal life, I’m inseparable from AI—I’m chatting with it every single day. I suspect that because AI provides answers so quickly, I’ve become somewhat dependent on it to profile my character, give me advice, and tell me what to do.

This feeling is especially vivid at night. I feel like I want to do something, yet I lack the patience to take it step by step. It feels as if AI is accelerating me in every aspect, but my underlying logic hasn't truly sped up. This sense of misalignment is deeply unsettling.

Furthermore, I feel like I’ve done so much, yet somehow I’ve done nothing at all. I seem so dependent on AI now—even for my own life goals. While my work keeps accelerating with AI’s help, the reality of society is that many people are losing their jobs and have no clear path forward. I’m realizing that the "capable" will get better and better, while those struggling in life fall easily into the trap of poverty. When I spend every day fretting over this accelerated pace of life and work, I feel like I’m losing sight of so many other facets of the world.

Coming back to it: what actually matters to me?

Lately, I often think about how I need to learn this or that, how I should perform in the field of data in this AI era, and what opportunities I might have. I feel these are objective facts and perhaps my core competitiveness—things I’ve accumulated over years of experience. But I’m no longer sure.

And now, facing the question of whether to have children at thirty, my spirit feels even more restless. I don’t know which path to take, and I can’t seem to slow down.

— cc

Lin’s Reply

C:

Hello! Thank you for writing to me.

First, I must admit that what follows might be a bit of a mess. Please read it carefully, though. I get to write messily, but you don’t get to read it messily—because we are playing a game of "writing letters," and I don’t want to keep you waiting too long.

Even though I say it’s a mess, I do have some expectations of what I want to express. While you were writing to me, I was secretly peeking, and a few lines had already formed in my mind. So, here’s a disclaimer: No getting angry at what I write, because sometimes we need to face our inner problems directly to recognize and solve them. So, no matter what I say, please read on with a serious and rational mind.

First (here I go with "first" again), I feel that your anxiety is very much like the "Phantom Snowy Mountain" story we discussed this morning. I believe there is a child in your heart—one who has existed since you were small, whose image is fixed and has never been corrected by your adult reason. She represents the "you should do XX" version of yourself, and you are constantly chasing her. Why? You can’t quite say. You just think, "Because she represents what I should do, I naturally should chase her." But if you push her too hard without reason, that child will summon the legendary monster Woo, who will then scare adult "C" away.

What I want to say is: there aren't that many "shoulds" in this world. Even if there are, they probably aren't the same as those "primitive" scripts etched into your brain. C is too focused on what’s right in front of her. You mention "AI" nine times in your letter.* To be honest, it feels to me like one day, humans invented a "hammer that can use itself," and c started worrying that this new hammer would make her too efficient, or that it might hit her hand—or someone else’s. But c completely ignores the fact that the hammer isn't the entirety of life. C still needs to enjoy eating, sleeping, and dreaming; yet right now, C is thinking about the "new hammer" even while doing those things.

My C is someone who doesn't know how to enjoy life. This is sometimes hard to observe—especially when your mental RAM is filled with enough cheap ‘digital pop-ups’ to mask it. But we can't rely on a flood of pop-ups to survive. We can't be coddled forever; we have to find joyful activities for ourselves. This search might be difficult, but life will be even more difficult if we don't look. Because if our "RAM" is crammed with "Unhappy AI Pop-ups," what then? Ultimately, we have to get our priorities straight: we must distinguish between what we truly want and the bullshit we do just for the sake of a few bucks.

But what is it that you want? Everyone wants many things. It’s just that some people don't realize it without a reminder, or they’re too embarrassed to admit it. For me, I’m quite happy eating fried chicken at night because it tastes good. Or I find joy in my keyboard and computer being good for typing, or simply being able to go for a 'DK' whenever I feel like it—our private shorthand for a trip to the bathroom. But then, why doesn't C think this way? I suspect it's because she’s always thinking of a "grander, better" goal: going abroad, having kids, learning something new, and so on. But she isn't even sure if she actually wants those things. Hey, the reason is that she considers them "shoulds," and those "shoulds" lead C straight into the phantom snowy mountain.

I suspect many things are unpredictable, and perhaps no definitive conclusion can be reached. Some answers just surface when you aren't even looking. Better to just keep moving and let them — or whatever else is coming — catch up with you.

C is a good C, but also a C with deeply rooted, strange ideas. She’s very clumsy at finding "inner peace." She always wants to be doing something, watching something, jumping around—as if she’s afraid that the moment she settles down, she’ll have to face her own emptiness. My advice is to reconcile with Woo. Be a C who accepts that there are many "unnecessary things," and who accepts "not having to do much." Otherwise, watching C fight with herself every day makes Lin’s heart ache (and sometimes, I get caught in the crossfire).

Wishing C all the best. Lin can’t make up any more words. Hoping for a reply.

— Lin

\Note from C: Lin is referring to my original letter written in Chinese.*