Cognitive dissonance

The file named 【CognitiveDissonance_CaseStudy_JM_Prelim】, like a cold bomb, lay dormant on Jiang Mo's phone all night. She neither opened it immediately nor deleted it. She simply let it lie there, like a silent warning, or rather, a cold declaration of war from an observer.

She could almost picture Shen Zhiyan compiling the report—his gaze behind his glasses focused yet distant, his long fingers tapping on the keyboard, breaking down, categorizing, and labeling her behavior, her words, and the physiological fluctuations captured by sensors, attempting to deconstruct the "cognitive dissonance" of this "abnormal case" using the logic he believed in.

This feeling of being completely objectified and quantified is more chilling than any direct malice.

The next day, when Jiang Mo stepped into the lab, she deliberately straightened her back, her face displaying a calculated and impeccable calm. She even took the initiative to discuss several technical issues with Researcher Zhou, speaking in a relaxed tone, as if she weren't the one being "studied" in a case study.

Shen Zhiyan remained in his control area, as usual. Only when Jiang Mo made a mistake, causing the instrument to emit a slight alarm, did he glance up. His gaze was swift, like the red light of a scanner sweeping across the screen, devoid of emotion, yet seemingly silently recording this new "data point."

Before the lunch break, the production team arranged a small discussion on the theme of "The Boundary Between Science and Art". When it was Jiang Mo's turn to speak, she paused for a moment, her gaze sweeping over everyone present, finally landing almost imperceptibly in Shen Zhiyan's direction.

“I think that science and art are both trying to describe the world, just using different ‘languages’.” Her voice was clear, carrying the unique acting skills she possesses as an actress. “Scientists use formulas and theorems, artists use colors and melodies. But sometimes, I wonder, when science tries to analyze things that cannot be quantified, such as… a person’s obsession, or a dream that has been abandoned, does its ‘language’ seem somewhat… pale and powerless?”

She used the words "obsession" and "abandoned dream," two carefully crafted probes that precisely pierced the secret about him that she had pondered repeatedly last night.

A moment of silence fell over the lab. Researcher Zhou and several other scientists wore thoughtful expressions. The director, off-camera, nodded slightly, seemingly satisfied with this profound topic.

Shen Zhiyan's fingers, resting on his knees, twitched almost imperceptibly. The subtle movement was so quick it was almost an illusion. But he didn't look up or respond; he simply kept his eyes downcast, staring at the notebook in front of him, as if it held more profound universal truths.

Jiang Mo's heart sank. He was more defensive than she had imagined.

After the discussion ended, everyone left one after another. Jiang Mo deliberately lagged behind, packing her things. Shen Zhiyan was still there; he stood by the window, seemingly checking his phone. The golden rays of the setting sun shone through the blinds, casting zebra-striped shadows on him, dividing him into fragments of light and shadow.

Just then, his phone rang. It wasn't an ordinary ringtone, but a crisp, childlike piano melody, completely out of place in the cold, serious atmosphere of the laboratory. Jiang Mo remembered this ringtone; Xiao Chen had mentioned it before—it was a special ringtone that Shen Zhiyan had set up for his grandmother in a nursing home abroad.

Shen Zhiyan answered the phone immediately.

"Grandma," he said, his voice softer than Jiang Mo had ever heard before, like melting snow in early spring, instantly shattering all the dams of his rationality.

Jiang Mo moved quietly, pretending to rummage through her backpack.

"Yes, I'm fine... I'm not tired at work, so don't worry."

"Did you take your medicine on time? The weather is getting colder there, remember to wear more clothes."

"You painted a new swallow? That's wonderful... I'll come see you as soon as I'm done with this busy period, and please bring the painting for me to see, okay?"

His tone was patient and gentle, every syllable revealing genuine concern. The light from the window outlined his slightly bowed profile, the lines of his neck no longer taut, revealing an almost vulnerable angle.

Jiang Mo listened quietly. This man, who was comforting his distant relatives with the simplest of words, coexisted in a stark contrast to Shen Zhiyan, who compiled cold case reports and dissected everything with data.

The call lasted less than five minutes. After hanging up, Shen Zhiyan remained in the same position, gazing out the window, his shadow stretching long in the setting sun, carrying an indescribable loneliness.

Jiang Mo finally zipped up her backpack, the sound sounding somewhat abrupt in the quiet laboratory.

Shen Zhiyan slowly turned around. The soft marks on his face had not completely faded, and there was still a trace of tenderness in his eyes that he had not had time to conceal. But the moment his eyes met Jiang Mo's, this tenderness receded like the tide and was covered again by the unfathomable sea of ​​rationality.

The two stood silently facing each other, separated by several rows of lab benches.

An eerie silence filled the air, with only the low hum of the instruments as background noise.

In the end, it was Shen Zhiyan who looked away first. He said nothing, picked up his things, and walked steadily towards the door, leaving the laboratory.

Jiang Mo didn't move. She remained standing in the same spot, her mind replaying the drastically different expressions on Shen Zhiyan's face before and after the phone call. The cold case report suddenly lost its weight in her heart.

She understood. He wasn't devoid of emotion; quite the opposite, he perhaps simply kept most of his feelings locked within a specific, safe "confidence zone." And his "cognitive dissonance" might stem from the vast rift between the "architectural youth" within him yearning to soar and the "scientist" in reality who chose to "return home" and immerse himself in rigorous data.

He observed her, trying to understand her "inconsistency." And wasn't she also observing him, trying to piece together a complete picture of his personality?

Back at the hotel that evening, Jiang Mo finally opened the compressed file.

It wasn't the judgmental report she had envisioned. Instead, it was an extremely detailed, even objective, compilation of data. It included her operational records from multiple experiments, physiological signal data, and even textual analysis of her public speeches and social media posts.

There are no conclusions, no labels, only naked, uninterpreted "facts".

At the end of the file, there is a separate folder named: 【Reference_Architecture & Emotion】.

Jiang Mo clicked on it, and inside were dozens of academic papers on the impact of the built environment on human psychology, emotions, and behavior, as well as... a few scanned documents. These were several architectural sketches, slightly immature yet full of spirit, all signed "Shen Zhiyan." Without exception, the themes of the sketches were all related to "nest," "returning home," and "flowing warmth."

In the corner of one of the sketches, a line of text was written in neat handwriting:

"The essence of architecture is to provide a place for the wandering human heart to find a foothold."

Jiang Mo stared at the words for a long time without saying a word.

Therefore, he wasn't merely treating her as a case study. He was also carefully demonstrating to her, this "anomaly" he couldn't fully analyze with existing models, the origin of his coordinate system.