31-Year-Old Medical PhD Sparks Debate After Quitting Medicine to Deliver Food: Why Did She Leave Her

Recently, news that 31-year-old Liu Zihan—who holds a doctorate in medicine—had resigned from her positions as a psychiatrist and postdoctoral researcher to try out different lifestyles, such as delivering food and singing in bars, has attracted significant attention. This shift in professional identity—moving from hospital psychiatrist to street-level food delivery rider—has sparked considerable discussion among netizens. Addressing questions about whether it is a waste for a medical PhD holder to deliver food, Liu explained that these jobs are not intended to be her next permanent career; rather, having stepped off her original path, she simply wants to explore the various possibilities life has to offer.

Liu Zihan is originally from Shijiazhuang, Hebei Province. She completed her undergraduate studies at the West China School of Medicine, Sichuan University, before being recommended for admission to the Faculty of Health Sciences at the University of Macau for her doctoral studies, eventually earning her PhD in November 2022. Prior to graduation, she joined a top-tier (Grade A, Class III) hospital in Zhuhai, where she conducted postdoctoral research while undergoing standardized residency training in psychiatry.

During her time at the hospital, she treated patients as a psychiatrist and received banners of appreciation and thank-you letters from them. She does not entirely reject the medical profession; on the contrary, she values clinical work and enjoys the process of interacting face-to-face with patients. The reason she ultimately chose to leave stemmed from long-term reflection on her working methods and lifestyle.

Liu noted that hospital work involved a rigid schedule—with set times for waking up and starting work, as well as clearly defined tasks to complete. She had agonized over whether to leave for a year or two, ultimately desiring more control over her own time.

She officially resigned in February 2026. After leaving the hospital, she did not immediately seek another job in the traditional sense, opting instead to experiment with different lifestyles. She tried her hand at the breakfast business and worked as a bar singer before purchasing an e-scooter to become a food delivery rider.

On the streets of Zhuhai, she spends her evenings fulfilling delivery orders. She told the media that she enjoys weaving through city traffic on her e-scooter; each order—from pickup to drop-off—offers a clear objective and provides immediate feedback. Although she sometimes completes only a few orders a day and earns a modest income, she finds satisfaction in this kind of simple, manual labor.

At the same time, singing in bars has become another integral part of her life. She sings at bars or street-side events and also offers consultations on topics ranging from academics and career choices to personal dilemmas. Her days are a mix of varied activities, freeing her from the rigid schedules that once governed her life.

This shift has also led her to see the people around her in a new light.

After leaving the hospital, Liu Zihan spent much of her time in the Tangjia Ancient Town area of Zhuhai, where she met people from diverse walks of life—restaurant and café owners, beer stall vendors, food delivery riders, street hawkers, and boatmen. Her past—spent in academic and professional settings defined by clear, structured paths—contrasted sharply with the lives of these working-class individuals, revealing a different way of living.

She has described her past life as being defined by "meritocracy." From her early education through her doctoral studies, hospital work, and postdoctoral research, she had always sought to validate her worth through grades, academic credentials, and career advancement. Stepping away from that environment prompted her to question whether one’s life must always follow the socially prescribed trajectory of constant forward momentum.

This is precisely why the story of an MD working as a food delivery rider attracted so much attention.

In the public imagination, a medical doctorate implies years of rigorous study and a high professional barrier to entry; medicine is viewed as a highly specialized profession. Consequently, the stark contrast between such a prestigious qualification and the job of delivering food naturally became a focal point of discussion.

However, Liu Zihan does not view food delivery as her ultimate career choice. She emphasizes that her priority right now is exploring different possibilities for her life, rather than immediately locking in a career path for the decades ahead. She hopes to discover what she truly wants through firsthand experience.

Her parents were initially baffled by her decision. They had previously taken great pride in her achievements—earning a doctorate, becoming a doctor, and pursuing postdoctoral research. When she resigned, her mother struggled to comprehend the move, while her father worried about the loss of a stable income. Over time, however, her family observed that although she no longer held a traditional office-based job, she maintained a structured daily routine and clear plans; gradually, they came to understand and accept her choices. It is worth noting that Liu Zihan’s experience cannot simply be interpreted as proof that "advanced degrees are useless," nor does it imply inherent flaws in the medical profession or medical education itself. Her own perspective leans more toward a choice of lifestyle: while a doctorate and a career as a physician offer a clear professional path, following that path indefinitely is not the only option.

For many young people, career choices are becoming increasingly diverse. Some seek long-term growth in specialized fields, others choose entrepreneurship, and some—after years in the workforce—look for a pace of life that better suits them. Consequently, the relationship between professional identity and personal life is garnering greater attention.

Liu Zihan has not set a rigid plan for her future. She wants to focus on living well in the present while planning to hold a concert and turn her personal journey into a film; she also hopes to one day have a small courtyard where her cats can roam freely. She is even planning to obtain a seafarer’s certificate soon.

The transition from physician to delivery rider—from the hospital to the streets—has attracted attention not merely because of the stark contrast between the roles of "medical doctor" and "food delivery rider," but because it reflects the reality of young people constantly seeking a balance between career, education, and lifestyle.

For Liu Zihan, leaving the hospital does not mean rejecting the knowledge and experience she accumulated over the years; rather, it represents a desire to step off a familiar career track and personally experience different ways of living. Whether she will return to medicine or choose a different profession in the future remains undecided.

The discussion sparked by the story of a "31-year-old medical doctor quitting medicine to deliver food" has also prompted people to consider a more specific question: when educational credentials and professional titles no longer fully define a person's life goals, how should one choose their next path?