Alibaba's turmoil may just be getting started.

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Written by Yang Xiaoruo | Edited by Zhang Hongyi

Produced by Business Show

On June 12, Teng Yaxin (alias 'Yousu'), the former product manager of DingTalk's ONE project, released another lengthy article titled 'Clouds Are Not Necessarily Empty.' This marked her first public statement since her 75,000-word resignation essay, 'Inside DingTalk,' which went viral on the internet on June 4.

The public outcry sparked by this internal whistleblower did not subside with Alibaba's response.

The focus of public opinion has long shifted beyond a single product controversy, pointing to a broader issue: Amidst leadership changes, AI transformation, and organizational culture shifts, where is DingTalk headed, and how will Alibaba's underlying organizational culture adapt?

From a wider perspective, the entire incident may also reflect a larger issue in the AI era: The internet economy has reached a stage where finding incremental growth is challenging, and organizations, management systems, and the underlying culture are facing immense challenges.

Individuals within these organizations are the first to succumb to the increasingly competitive environment, with their suppressed emotions turning into genuine cries for change.

Much like the delivery riders trapped in the system, pushed by algorithms calculating every second, rushing through wind and rain to meet stringent deadlines. Accompanying these emotions and cries should be a profound reflection on the imbalance between technological rationality and humanistic care.

In her article 'Clouds Are Not Necessarily Empty,' Teng Yaxin exercised restraint, stating that her resignation post was merely a reflection on common and systemic issues encountered during the construction of AI within large organizations, not limited to DingTalk, Alibaba, or domestic contexts.

Undoubtedly, in the era of AI development, corporate organizations and individuals worldwide are facing similar challenges.

Perhaps the capital markets feel this more acutely.

From June 4, when Teng Yaxin published 'Inside DingTalk,' to June 11, when DingTalk announced a leadership change, Alibaba's Hong Kong stock (09988.HK) fell from HK$123.50 to HK$107.40 in just six trading days, with a cumulative decline of 13.04%. The company's total market value shrank from HK$2,370.344 billion to HK$2,061.336 billion, evaporating approximately HK$309 billion cumulatively. On June 11, the day of DingTalk's leadership change announcement, Alibaba's Hong Kong stock plummeted 5.37% in a single day.

It's time for DingTalk to undergo a transformation.

Twenty-four hours later, on June 11, under an order from the Alibaba Group, DingTalk completed this industry-shaking leadership change.

Chen Hang (alias 'Wu Zhao') can be considered the founding father of DingTalk. In 2014, he led a team to break through in Hupan Garden, and in 2015, DingTalk was launched, carving out a significant share from the red ocean of enterprise services. In 2021, due to disagreements with the 'Cloud-Ding Integration' concept, this 'father of DingTalk' left to establish his own venture, Erqing Yiyang.

After four years apart, in March 2025, Alibaba CEO Wu Yongming personally visited and invited this veteran back. Wu Zhao returned to lead DingTalk, pushing the ONE project and vowing to fight another tough battle in the AI era. Who would have thought that this comeback would only last 437 days as the leader?

The successor, Chen Yusen, according to public records, was born in 1992 and is Alibaba's youngest-ever business division CEO, a true tech enthusiast.

This young prodigy made a name for himself early, winning awards in top computer science competitions domestically and internationally during his student years. At 22, he founded the cybersecurity company Changting Technology, which was later acquired by Alibaba Cloud.

In 2025, he embarked on a second venture within Alibaba Cloud, creating the AI Agent product MuleRun, which gained wide recognition in the industry.

One is the founding father of the product, and the other is a rising tech genius. This transition at DingTalk resembles a succession of sect leaders in the martial arts world, marking the end of an old era and the beginning of a new legend.

But to navigate the path ahead, it's also necessary to retrace the steps taken.

01 Strategic Fluctuations: From a Rugged Wilderness to an AI Quagmire

To understand DingTalk's current predicament, one must first delve into its history. DingTalk's rise is a tale of wild growth in China's internet sector.

In 2014, Alibaba's social networking dream shattered as 'Laiwang' failed. Chen Hang retreated with his remaining team to Hupan Garden, where DingTalk was born from the ruins.

That was truly a rugged era. The 'DING' notification, akin to a death warrant, and the read/unread status lock, were two lethal moves that directly hit the pain points of SME bosses. User numbers snowballed, and DingTalk carved out a path in the uncharted territory of enterprise services.

Some say Wu Zhao's approach has always been bold.

Internally, DingTalk was known as the 'Madhouse,' with everyone pumped up. High-pressure, frenetic, and resolute, this rugged heroism brought DingTalk absolute dominance in the B-end market.

Third-party data shows that by the end of 2025, DingTalk led the collaborative office industry with a 32.7% market share, followed by WeChat Work at 23.4% and Feishu at 18.9%, with the three companies accounting for 92% of the entire market. DingTalk had served over 700 million users, with over 28 million enterprise organizations and around 200 million monthly active users.

This was the 'kingdom' Wu Zhao fought for with his life. But in the business world, it's always easier to conquer than to hold.

As DingTalk grew into a behemoth with hundreds of millions of users, the 'Madhouse' became a regular army of thousands. And thus, the strategy began to waver.

In 2019, DingTalk was merged into the Alibaba Cloud Intelligence Business Group; in September 2020, Alibaba officially announced the 'Cloud-Ding Integration' strategy. This move, intended to make DingTalk the gateway to the cloud era, also shackled this rugged hero.

Wu Zhao left. In September 2020, he was transferred from DingTalk due to ideological differences and officially left in 2021 to establish Erqing Yiyang.

In the following years, Ye Jun, alias 'Bu Qiong,' took over. DingTalk embarked on a difficult transformation: shifting from a scale battle focused on DAU to a value battle focused on ARR. Commercialization and PaaS-ification were arduous steps.

Until April 2025, when the AI wave swept across the globe.

Alibaba acquired Erqing Yiyang and invited Wu Zhao back. This founder's second comeback brought a determination to go ALL IN on AI. The strategy shifted from 'Cloud-Ding Integration' to 'AI-Driven,' with the ONE project emerging, focusing on an AI information flow that 'finds people for tasks,' aiming to transform DingTalk from a collaborative tool into an AI agent platform.

The slogans were loud, and the strategy was grand. But execution was a mess.

Teng Yaxin wrote clearly in 'Inside DingTalk': goals were wavering, resources were clashing, and AI was pursued for its own sake, turning it into a vanity project. This highly anticipated product saw its DAU peak at 3 million before stagnating and retreating to the negative first screen ten months later, replaced by 'Wukong.'

Strategic vacillation and difficult AI implementation. This is the true portrayal of DingTalk.

02 Management Dilemma: The Whip Can't Drive the AI Carriage Anymore

If the setback in the AI project was merely a flesh wound at the business level, the ensuing organizational management crisis struck at DingTalk's 'bones.'

After Wu Zhao's return, he brought back the startup playbook, unchanged, to DingTalk.

According to reports from multiple authoritative media outlets such as The Paper and Yicai, he required all employees to clock in at 9 AM, reduced lunch breaks to 45 minutes, held fixed evening meetings at 9 PM, and even conducted 'code volume backtracking.' All management were required to learn Python, and private use of WeChat was prohibited, with public self-criticism in group chats for violations. Even worse, he conducted rounds at midnight.

If this 'extreme playbook' was a secret weapon for breaking through during the startup phase, implementing it in today's DingTalk with thousands of employees became a fuse for discontent.

On June 8, Ma Ruila, the former vice president of DingTalk, responded with a 20,000-word essay titled 'Outside DingTalk,' announcing his resignation on May 15. His words were piercing: 'It's increasingly hard to confirm whether I'm creating a product or just consuming my body to chase an ever-moving deadline.'

Behind the high-pressure management lies DingTalk's deep-seated AI competition anxiety. With WeChat Work blocking ahead, Feishu pursuing from behind, and a host of vertical AI tools lurking, DingTalk is desperate to find its own 'AI New Continent.'

As Zhang Xiaorong from DeepTech Institute said, the public sentiment behind DingTalk's controversy is not just a simple management issue but also confusion over 'whether AI technology empowers or controls.' When AI is used as a whip to boost efficiency rather than a tool to liberate productivity, it inevitably moves towards the opposite of humanism.

On June 10, Alibaba's highest decision-making body finally spoke up. The Partnership Committee posted on the intranet with the title 'With Emotion, Righteousness, and Growth, That's Alibaba Culture.' The message was heavy: DingTalk's management style 'is not what Alibaba culture should be.'

Just 24 hours later, on June 11, DingTalk changed its leader. Wu Zhao stepped down as CEO, and Chen Yusen, born in 1992 and a tech enthusiast, took over.

This leadership change is Alibaba's dual correction for DingTalk: addressing both 'AI anxiety' and 'management runaway.' Chen Yusen's appointment sends a clear signal: DingTalk is shifting from 'high-pressure-driven' to 'technology-driven.' Exploring the boundaries of AI in a way that resonates with the younger generation.

This controversy has evolved into a grand debate on Alibaba culture. The Partnership Committee's statement officially acknowledges the existence of a management style at DingTalk that deviates from Alibaba culture.

Looking back at the evolution of Alibaba culture, it has always swung between 'idealism' and 'utilitarianism.'

Early Alibaba had a strong sense of community and cohesion. 'Because we trust, we keep it simple' forged the Alibaba Iron Army. But as Alibaba grew into a giant, the flavor changed.

In 2019, Jack Ma's statement that '996 is a blessing' packaged extreme overtime as a gift employees should be grateful for. This sparked outrage across the internet and exposed the 'wolfish' disregard for people within Alibaba culture when taken to extremes.

In the post-Ma era, Daniel Zhang attempted corrections. 'Health, happiness, growth' were loud slogans. But with performance pressures looming, the wolfish genes didn't fade so easily. The new humanistic slogans tore apart from the old management inertia.

The chaos in DingTalk's AI transformation is the total eruption of this tear. Trying to drive the AI carriage with an old-era high-pressure whip results in 'people and horses toppling.'

The Partners' statement is a belated cultural correction. 'Mutual respect, treating people as people' redefines Alibaba culture.

But cultural inertia is heavier than mountains. The real challenge for Alibaba is how to translate 'emotion and righteousness' from intranet posts into every line of code, every product iteration, and respect for every employee.

Conclusion

From 'Inside DingTalk' to 'Clouds Are Not Necessarily Empty.' From Chen Hang to Chen Yusen. From '996 is a blessing' to 'This is not what Alibaba should be.'

DingTalk's series of turmoil are not isolated cases but a microcosm of China's internet industry reaching deep waters. With changes in technological paradigms, corporate lifecycles, and social values, internet companies must reconstruct their products, organizations, and cultures accordingly.

DingTalk's future is not just about whether its AI strategy succeeds but also about whether, in the rush for product and technological efficiency, it can pause to regain respect and care for people. This is also a question faced by AI companies and tech firms worldwide: Pursue efficiency and performance, but don't forget corporate social responsibility and basic humanistic care.

For Alibaba, defining a new culture and putting 'emotion and righteousness' into practice, rather than just intranet posts, will determine whether it can truly navigate through cycles and win the next decade.

A 75,000-word resignation essay sparked this storm. But Alibaba's storm may have only just begun.「End」