You’ve probably seen the video. A robot slurping up instant noodles. It went viral. Everyone called it a marketing masterstroke. They called the founder a genius.
The founder, Guo Renjie, thinks that’s hilarious. Because the truth is far more interesting, and far more uncomfortable for anyone who thinks they know how to build something from nothing.
The real story isn’t about a genius plan. It’s about a guy who sat on his toilet at 3 AM, crying over a video of a robot, and then told his HR to hire that person. Immediately.
That’s the moment you realize: the “genius” label is just a story we tell ourselves to avoid the messy, humiliating, beautiful truth of building something new.
Guo Renjie is the founder of Le Xiang Technology (brand: Zeroth). He spent years at Dreame, a massive consumer robot company. He managed 1,500 people. Then he quit to build a home robot from scratch. Now he manages 70 people, and he’s learning to be a beginner again.
His company has 30,000 B2B orders. But he’s terrified of selling to consumers. Why? Because he knows what happens when you sell a bad product. He’s been there. He’s done that. He’s not going to repeat the mistake.
This is the story of a founder who is systematically using the most basic methods to bet on a result that is anything but basic.
The “Noodle Incident” Wasn’t a Plan
Everyone asks about the noodle video. How did you plan it? What was the strategy?
Guo’s answer is brutally simple: They didn’t plan it. They tested everything. They tested sucking up hair, milk, water, cat food, dog food, cat litter. One day, they tried noodles. It worked. They didn’t know why until after. They still don’t fully know.
This is the core of his method: Test everything. Ignore your own experience. Let the data talk.
He calls it “stripping away your own consciousness.” You have to be willing to be wrong. You have to be willing to look stupid. Because the only thing that matters is what the user actually wants, not what you think they should want.
This is the first rule of the 0-to-1 playbook: You don’t know. Admit it. Then test your way to the answer.
Why He’s Not a Genius (And Why That’s His Superpower)
Guo went to a prestigious “gifted youth” program at 15. He’s young, successful, and driven. But he says the label is a curse.
“Being elite only sets your floor,” he says. “It doesn’t set your ceiling. My ceiling is determined by three things: intelligence, hard work, and iteration speed.”
This is the most subversive thing he said. He’s not a genius. He’s a system. A system for learning faster than anyone else. A system for being wrong faster than anyone else. A system for building a company that can survive long enough to find the right answer.
If you’re building something truly new, there is no “big brother” to copy. There is no playbook. You can’t follow a 10x improvement strategy because you don’t know what the 1x looks like. You just have to survive long enough to find out.
That’s why his company builds multiple robot forms. A small one. A medium one. A tall one. He doesn’t know which is right. So he’s betting on all of them, while keeping enough flexibility to pivot when he finds out he’s wrong. It’s a hedge against his own ignorance.
The Two Non-Negotiables: Safety and Autonomy
You can’t just build a robot. You have to build one that people will let into their homes. That changes everything.
Guo has two absolute rules for his products: Safety and Full Autonomy.
Safety means the robot can’t hurt anyone. Not a child. Not a pet. Not even a piece of furniture. This is why his robots are small. A 15kg robot (30 pounds) is a dangerous object. A 8kg robot is a companion. He tested his early prototypes with cats. The cats weren’t scared. That’s the bar.
Autonomy means the robot can’t be a burden. It can’t get stuck. It can’t need to be recharged by its owner. It can’t fall over and wait for a human to pick it up. If it does, the human is serving the robot, not the other way around. That’s a dealbreaker.
This is the second rule of the 0-to-1 playbook: Know your non-negotiables. The rest is noise.
The 300 Problems and the 3 AM Tears
This is where the story gets real. Guo spent a weekend talking to 40 employees, each for hours, until 2 or 3 AM. He wrote down 300 problems in a notebook. Everything from the snacks in the office to the product roadmap. He then spent four nights with his core team, closing each issue one by one.
This is the man who is building the next Apple. He’s not holed up in a boardroom. He’s sitting on the floor, listening to the people who are actually building the product. He’s making himself the most vulnerable person in the room, and then using that vulnerability to build a better company.
He cried when he saw a video of a robot made by a tinkerer named Yuanqing. He saw a video of someone who loved robots so much that they built one with their own hands. He didn’t care about the guy’s resume. He cared about the passion. He hired the whole team.
This is the third rule: Hire for love, not for credentials. The rest can be taught.
The Endgame: A Terminal, Not a Tool
Most people think of a home robot as a tool. A vacuum cleaner. A lawn mower. A camera. Guo thinks bigger. He thinks it’s a new terminal.
Like a phone, but with legs. Like a TV, but with a personality. Like a computer, but with a face.
He believes that the robot will have its own app store. Not an app store, but an “agent store.” You’ll download capabilities. A companion for your child. A watchman for your elderly parent. A therapist for your pet. A photographer for your memories.
And because it’s mobile and multi-modal, it can do things a phone can’t. It can come to you. It can see you. It can remember you. It can be a better version of you.
This is the bet. A bet on a future where the robot is not a tool, but a presence. A bet on a future that is uncertain, but worth the risk. A bet that requires a founder who is smart enough to admit he’s not a genius, and brave enough to cry over a robot at 3 AM.
He’s not a marketing genius. He’s a learning machine. And that’s a much better thing to be.
FAQ
Q: Is the 'noodle incident' a real example of a marketing strategy, or just luck?
A: It's a real example of a systematic testing strategy that looks like luck from the outside. The team tested dozens of scenarios (hair, milk, cat food, etc.) until one worked. The 'genius' is in the willingness to test, not in the ability to predict. This is a repeatable playbook, not a one-time blast.
Q: What's the practical takeaway for a founder building a new product?
A: Two things. First, kill your own experience. Don't assume you know what the user wants. Test everything. Second, set hard non-negotiables (like safety and autonomy) that don't change. Everything else is a variable. This gives you a framework to explore within, without losing your soul.
Q: Is the 'admit you're not a genius' advice just intellectual humility, or is there a real strategy behind it?
A: It's a real strategy. If you think you're a genius, you'll default to big, risky bets. If you admit you don't know, you'll default to small, frequent tests. In a 0-to-1 market, the latter is safer and more efficient. The 'genius' label is a trap. The real skill is building a system that can learn faster than anyone else.