At 38 years old, most professionals are well-established in their careers. Li Long is sitting in a lecture hall. Eighteen years after first entering China’s elite Tsinghua University with a stellar score of 695 on the gaokao, he has done the unthinkable. He retook the grueling national college entrance exam and secured a spot in the elite eight-year clinical medicine program at Peking University Health Science Center.
Unsurprisingly, the internet exploded. Critics argue that an older candidate is hoarding scarce educational resources and blocking younger students from achieving their dreams. Others view his journey as an inspiring tale of lifelong ambition. But looking past the social media noise reveals a much deeper story about economic survival, the heavy burden of early choices, and how shifting industry regulations completely altered one man's life path. Learn more on a related subject: this related article.
The Financial Reality Behind a 2008 Decision
To understand why Li is starting medical school at an age when others are becoming attending physicians, you have to look back at his upbringing. Growing up in a low-income household in Harbin, his parents survived on manual labor. After their home was demolished, the family spent time crashing in an unheated garage. Expensive after-school tutoring was completely out of reach.
Despite being deeply drawn to medicine after watching elderly relatives battle illness, money dictated his first choice. Medical training in China demands a massive upfront investment of time before it yields any financial return. In 2008, Li needed to start earning immediately to support his family. Additional reporting by BBC News explores similar views on the subject.
He chose Tsinghua’s experimental class in fundamental mathematics and physics instead. It was a pragmatic move. While still an undergraduate, he tutored younger students to pay the bills, eventually buying his parents a proper apartment in Harbin. For years, he made a living coaching high schoolers into Tsinghua and Peking University.
Why the Gaokao Return Triggered Massive Backlash
When Beijing cracked down heavily on the private tutoring industry, Li’s professional landscape shifted overnight. Realizing he had both the financial stability and the personal desire to pivot, he decided to chase his original dream.
It took him four attempts. He returned to the gaokao arena in 2024, 2025, and finally 2026, working grueling hours—studying from 8 AM to 10 PM in his final month of preparation. This year, he ranked in the top 300 out of roughly 200,000 candidates in Heilongjiang province, earning his admission ticket to Peking University.
Yet, the public backlash was swift. Social media commentators raised two major complaints:
- An older test-taker takes up a limited, high-value spot meant for teenagers whose entire lives depend on the gaokao.
- Documenting his preparation online was merely a cynical stunt to farm social media traffic.
Li handled the criticism head-on. He pointed out that he played by the exact same rules as every other candidate and received zero special treatment. Regarding the accusations of clout-chasing, he argued that attention is inevitable on public platforms, but the real test is whether you use it to sell anxiety or share useful study methods.
The Real Cost of Starting Over at 46
Let us look at the raw math of his decision. The program Li entered is an eight-year clinical medicine track that culminates in a PhD. He will be roughly 46 years old by the time he graduates and steps into a hospital as a junior rookie.
Most people spend their thirties consolidating wealth and climbing corporate ladders. Li chose to spend his spending three years memorizing biology textbooks while balancing a wife and child. He admits feeling immense guilt over not being able to support his family the way he wanted during his intense study periods.
Is it practical? For 99 percent of people, absolutely not. But Li represents a growing subset of professionals who realize that living with the regret of a path not taken is heavier than the difficulty of starting over. He spent the first half of his life making money for his family; he chose to spend the second half doing work he genuinely values.
Stop letting arbitrary age timelines dictate what you can or cannot learn. If a former math whiz can spend three years mastering high school chemistry again to enter medical school in his late thirties, your current career pivot doesn't look so impossible after all. Map out your goals, ignore the critics, and start studying.
