Chapter 22

The joint investigation committee's "deadly barrage of calls" was sent to Jin Zhaoxuan Company, scheduled for two days later in the morning, at:

The Third Conference Room of the Municipal Government —

A place known for its somber atmosphere and minimalist decor, a place of controversy.

The list of attendees is as long as an old woman's foot binding cloth; just looking at it makes your blood pressure soar.

Several bigwigs in charge of culture, commerce, and planning in the city (commonly known as the "three mountains"), various dignitaries from the Bureau of Cultural Relics, the Archives, and the Foreign Affairs Office, Director Zhang of the Museum (our allies), two highly respected but likely indecisive retired experts (neutral fence-sitters), Zhao Xinguo and his two "advisors" (one a retired senior engineer from a local restructured design institute, clearly blinded by money; the other a mystery, with a gloomy demeanor like he just crawled out of an ancient tomb), the Japanese "observer"—the representative of Takeda Seiko (a middle-aged man with gold-rimmed glasses and a smile so perfect it could be a meme), and finally, our lone hero—Comrade Jin Zhaoxuan.

This whole setup is clearly an attempt to nail this matter to the grave and cover it up with three layers of soil.

When Jin Zhaoxuan received the notification, he had just finished an IV drip that could practically marinate a person. His fever had subsided, but his face was still as pale as if he'd just come out of a flour mill, and the dark circles under his eyes were so thick they could make him look like a panda. Xiao Chen, standing nearby, was frantic, pacing back and forth like an ant on a hot plate: "President Jin! This is absolutely a trap! They're using you as bait! You've just been completely drained; going in is like offering yourself up as food!"

"He won't die, at most he'll be drained again." Jin Zhaoxuan put down the notification that was as deadly as a death warrant and turned his gaze to the tablet computer next to him.

On the screen, Yin Shaoqing's consciousness curve was bouncing wildly, fluctuating like an electrocardiogram at a dizzyingly fast frequency, occasionally even spiked with alarming "data peaks," indicating that this guy's core program was frantically "self-repairing and restarting," extremely busy. Although the virtual avatar hadn't loaded yet (missing a skin?), the progress bar representing "ready to go out and meet people" had stubbornly climbed to 87%!

He's speeding up the boot process! Like he's in a race!

Jin Zhaoxuan's fingers gently brushed across the cold screen, his movements as tender as if he were petting a sleeping cat.

"Wait a little longer," he muttered, unsure whether he was speaking to Yin Shaoqing or encouraging himself, "Let me go... and sweep up that pile of trash in front of your door for you."

He turned to look at Xiao Chen, who was still spinning around, his gaze instantly shifting from gentle to a "capitalist's gaze": "How's the 'ammunition' I asked you to prepare?"

"All in position! Full firepower!" Xiao Chen immediately stood at attention and reported rapidly, "The demonstration materials have been triple-encrypted and backed up, hidden in the cloud, on the hard drive, and on my heirloom USB drive! On the media front, we successfully contacted several 'famous reporters' from Xinhua News Agency's Liaoning branch and the provincial TV news channel, as well as several financial and technology media outlets that specialize in big news. They are very interested in the 'digitalization of industrial heritage encountering a transnational capital extortion' story and have agreed to send people to stake out the area! In addition, Brother Liu has also managed to get a group of veteran worker representatives and enthusiastic citizens to come and 'provide justifiable support' whenever needed!"

"Well done." Jin Zhaoxuan nodded. "The reporters and the public should remain on the periphery and wait. The key is our own 'trump card'—the argument that Professor Yin's AI model has 'absolutely authoritative data sources' and 'unique technical interpretations globally.' It must be made harder than a diamond, so those bastards can't find a single flaw!"

"Understood! We've already brought in three foreign law professors and two technology ethics experts to oversee the process!"

“In addition,” Jin Zhaoxuan paused, his tone as calm as if he were ordering takeout, “prepare a copy of… ‘Personal Health Status Informed Statement and Emergency Liability Disclaimer Agreement’ for me.”

Xiao Chen was stunned, and his eyes instantly reddened: "President Jin! What's wrong...?"

"If I suddenly faint during the meeting, or if my acting is subpar and I give myself away, don't give them an excuse to call a pause or question whether I'm a 'sickly, confused idiot'," Jin Zhaoxuan said casually, as if discussing the weather.

Xiao Chen sniffed, his voice trembling with a hint of tears: "President Jin..."

"Go quickly." Jin Zhaoxuan waved his hand, then looked back at the pulsating curve on the tablet screen, his eyes deep.

Two days passed in the blink of an eye.

On the morning of the meeting, the atmosphere in the third conference room of the municipal government was so heavy it could drip water. The long conference table was packed with people, like a funeral. Several municipal leaders sat at the head of the table, their expressions so solemn they could have been filming an anti-corruption propaganda film.

Director Zhang and two senior experts sat on one side, their faces increasingly grim, as if they had just swallowed a bitter melon. Zhao Xinguo and his henchmen, along with the Japanese representative Takeda, who was all smiles, sat on the other side, exuding arrogance.

Jin Zhaoxuan sat alone on the "cold bench" near the door, with only a laptop and a mini projector in front of him, looking like an IT worker who had accidentally stumbled into a meeting of bigwigs. He wore a black suit that was so well-pressed it could be used to peel fruit, his hair was combed meticulously, his face was still pale, but his back was straight, and his eyes were as calm as a deep pool of water, showing no sign of being sick.

At the start of the meeting, the city leader presiding over it (a master of facial expression management) read a long and tedious opening speech, the core idea of ​​which was just three words: objectivity! fairness! legality! The purpose was to "clarify" the ownership of the data and "seek" a proper solution—in layman's terms: We're here today to divide the cake, so behave yourselves.

Zhao Xinguo launched the first attack, and the retired senior engineer he brought along pulled out a thick stack of "research materials" and began his impassioned performance: According to "historical records" (which were likely sensationalist fiction), Takahashi Shinsuke was "forced" to cooperate with Chinese technicians, therefore the "core technological ideas" must belong to the Japanese side! The intellectual property rights of the "key parts" in the existing materials are questionable! He also subtly implied that the museum's rush to release the information was an attempt to "hype history and gain illicit profits!"

The Japanese representative, Takeda, immediately chimed in, speaking fluent but slightly accented Chinese, with a forced smile: "We fully understand your country's deep appreciation for its industrial history. However, historical issues require a rigorous approach. Our evidence suggests that the original copyright and subsequent development rights of the relevant technical data rightfully belong to the original institution's successors. We are willing to conduct friendly consultations to jointly study and reasonably share its historical value. We hope your side can respect historical facts and international practices."

Good heavens, they're throwing around accusations like "unclear property rights," "ill-gotten gains," and "affecting international relations" like they're free, with a clear objective:

Stir up the waters and fish in troubled waters!

Director Zhang was furious, his face turning green. He argued forcefully, slamming his fist on the table and emphasizing: "The materials were preserved on Chinese soil, risked their lives by Chinese technicians! The content is the culmination of the joint efforts of Chinese and Japanese technicians! It has now been donated to the nation! It belongs to the Chinese people!" The two senior experts also launched an academic attack, pointing out that technological improvements could not have been achieved without the blood, sweat, and tears of Chinese workers, and that the claim that "the core technology belongs to the Japanese side" was pure nonsense!

But the other party was clearly a well-prepared rogue, clinging to the issues of "property rights dispute" and "international influence," using sharp words and a tough stance, as if determined to "take a big slice of the pie."

The meeting reached a stalemate, the atmosphere so oppressive it was hard to breathe. Several city leaders had their brows furrowed deeply, clearly under immense pressure.

Just when tensions were running high and negotiations were on the verge of collapse—

Jin Zhaoxuan, who had been as quiet as a chicken and seemed to be lost in thought, suddenly stretched out his index finger and gently tapped it twice on the table.

The crisp sound wasn't loud, but it seemed to have a magical power, instantly attracting everyone's attention. Even Zhao Xinguo, who was spitting as he spoke, stopped.

"Distinguished leaders and representatives," Jin Zhaoxuan began, his voice not loud, even a little hoarse and lacking in strength, but with a strange clarity that could penetrate the noise, instantly commanding the room. "Regarding the ownership and historical attribution of these technical documents, the two sides have been arguing fiercely, and it sounds very complicated. But I think we may have gone astray and overlooked a more fundamental issue."

He paused, his gaze, like a precise scanner, slowly sweeping over Zhao Xinguo and the fake-smiling man, Takeda: "What exactly is this data? What is its greatest value?"

Zhao Xinguo scoffed, his face full of disdain: "President Jin, what do you, a tech company owner, know about the value of historical data? Stop trying to be mysterious!"

"I don't understand?" Jin Zhaoxuan slightly curled the corners of his mouth, a smile devoid of warmth but tinged with sarcasm. "Then may I ask, President Zhao, and this smiling Mr. Takeda behind you, why have you gone to such lengths, even resorting to international relations to exert pressure, only to want these few pieces of yellow paper that are almost rotten to dust, and a few rusty lumps of iron that even your own mother wouldn't recognize?"

Zhao Xinguo's expression changed, as if he had been stepped on.

The fake smile on Takeda's face froze, and his eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses sharpened: "Mr. Kim, what do you mean by this?"

“What I mean is,” Jin Zhaoxuan said calmly, opening his laptop and gliding his fingers across the touchpad to connect to the mini projector, “these static, silent materials are certainly valuable. But what truly brings them to life, what allows the technical details, operational scenarios, and even the sweat and wisdom of the workers from those years to be accurately, vividly, and even movingly reproduced, is the ‘Teacher Yin’ AI industrial history explanation model, which our company has poured its heart and soul into developing.”

Whoosh!

The projection screen lit up, displaying a screenshot of Yin Shaoqing's handsome and gentle, lifelike virtual image, along with a complex system architecture flowchart that made people dizzy, exuding a strong sense of technology.

"This model is not a simple speech synthesis or shadow puppetry." Jin Zhaoxuan's tone suddenly became professional and confident, with the absolute sense of control of a tech expert. "It is a 'historical technology context reconstruction engine' built on multimodal artificial intelligence ultra-deep learning, based on data from more than 100,000 historical documents, drawings, oral history recordings, and in-depth interviews with hundreds of living experts in related fields. It can not only understand those incomprehensible professional charts and restore long-lost operating procedures, but also perform rigorous logical deductions based on limited clues and data to fill in missing historical details."

He tapped his finger lightly, bringing up several pre-prepared "trump card" demonstration videos:

In the video, Yin Shaoqing's virtual avatar reconstructs the three-dimensional layout of the entire massive workshop from a single, blurry old photograph; it deduces the possible causes of a critical equipment malfunction and how the workers resolved it based on a few scattered and incomplete data records; it transforms cold, dry technical parameters and formulas into the specific actions, commands, and even the grease and sweat on the faces of the veteran operators from back then...

The realism of the visuals, the rigor of the logic, and the vividness of the details caused many knowledgeable people in the audience to secretly gasp in astonishment, and even the two neutral senior experts couldn't help but lean forward.

“These restorations and in-depth interpretations are something that cannot be achieved by simply reading paper materials or even by ordinary expert research.” Jin Zhaoxuan’s gaze turned to the several city leaders who looked astonished, his tone sincere and forceful. “Without the interpretation and contextual empowerment of the ‘Teacher Yin’ system, the value of these materials would be greatly diminished, and many precious historical details and technical wisdom would be forever buried in the dustbin of history, becoming unsolved mysteries. The core algorithms, deep learning models, and exclusive databases of the ‘Teacher Yin’ system are core technological assets independently developed by our company and possessing complete independent intellectual property rights. This is a completely different matter from the historical ownership of the materials themselves, and is protected by different laws.”

Brilliant! This masterful "shift" cleverly transformed the battleground from the quagmire of "who owns the data" to the high ground of "who can best interpret, activate, and utilize the data." And it clearly drew a red line:

You can argue about the data, but the core technology and AI brain that brought the data back to life belong to me, and you can forget about touching it!

Zhao Xinguo and the fake-smiling man, Takeda, instantly turned ashen-faced, as if they had swallowed a fly. They had calculated everything, but they hadn't anticipated Jin Zhaoxuan's unpredictable actions, his sudden appearance from such a cunning angle, and his thorough preparation—it was practically a game-changer!

"Mr. Jin, you're using a fallacy of semantics! You're playing word games!" Zhao Xinguo exclaimed, his voice rising eight octaves. "Without this raw data, your lousy AI model is like water without a source, a tree without roots! It's utterly useless!"

"Is that so?" Jin Zhaoxuan asked calmly, his tone even tinged with pity. "President Zhao, even if I gave you all these materials intact, could you, or Mr. Takeda beside you, understand those complex mechanical drawings and chemical formulas? Could you explain to the public, or to future generations, the wisdom, sweat, and even blood and tears behind each process? Or is it that what you two really want is simply to lock these materials in some shady safe, or... secretly transport them somewhere for some 'in-depth research' and 'value mining' that can't be made public?"

These words are a bit like killing someone's spirit; they directly expose any dark thoughts the other person might have.

"You're spouting nonsense! You're talking rubbish!" Zhao Xinguo slammed his fist on the table in anger, his finger practically poking Jin Zhaoxuan's nose.

"Comrade Zhao Xinguo! Watch your attitude and the discipline of the meeting!" The city leader presiding over the meeting shouted sternly, his face darkening.

Takeda, the man with the fake smile, took a deep breath, forcibly pulling his almost-collapsed expression back onto his standard fake smile, but his eyes were already icy cold: "Mr. Jin's technical skills and imagination are impressive. We greatly admire them. Perhaps, we could explore a more...constructive way of cooperating? For example, Takeda Precision is willing to invest heavily to jointly establish a high-end technology research center with your company, to deeply explore the application potential of these historical technologies that still have enlightening value for modern industry? This would be an excellent opportunity for your company's technological advancement and for a win-win cooperation between both of us."

The true intentions were revealed! When coercion failed, they switched to enticement, and their target was clear—directly aimed at Jin Zhaoxuan's core AI technology, and Yin Shaoqing, who was essentially a "living database" behind him!

Jin Zhaoxuan smiled, but this time the smile was no longer cold; it carried an almost pitying mockery. He shook his head slightly, looked at Representative Takeda, and said clearly, word by word:

"Win-win? Mr. Takeda, in 1945, your predecessor, Mr. Koichi Takeda, held a gun to the head of your fellow engineer, Nobusuke Takahashi, forcing him to destroy his life's work of technology and cruelly silencing his adopted Chinese son, Yin Shaoqing, whom he regarded as his own. He never thought about 'win-win'."

Boom—!!!

These words were like a thunderclap from a clear sky, exploding in the deathly silent conference room!

Everyone, including several city leaders, stared wide-eyed at Kim So-hyun in disbelief, then at Representative Takeda, whose face had turned ashen!

The fake smile on Takeda's face shattered completely, vanishing without a trace, replaced by a sinister and furious look of utter exposure. His eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses were so sharp they seemed to spew venom: "Mr. Kim! Watch your words! This is a baseless and malicious slander and defamation against my family ancestors and my company's reputation! You must apologize immediately!"

"Slander? Defamation?" Jin Zhaoxuan remained unmoved, tapping his finger on his notebook to bring up a high-definition scanned document, which he projected onto the screen. It was a key part of the last letter Takahashi Nobusuke left for Liu Fusheng. "This is a handwritten letter left by engineer Takahashi Nobusuke in the final moments of his life. It clearly states in black and white the coercion by the 'military special envoy' and his deep concern for the safety of his adopted son, Yin Shaoqing. According to our investigation, one of the Japanese 'military special envoys' who were responsible for supervision and pressure at the scene was your grandfather, Takeda Koichi. We have officially submitted the original letter and related historical research links to the relevant departments for record-keeping."

Before the other party could refute him, he quickly pulled up another document titled "Analysis Report Based on Logical Deduction from Publicly Available Historical Materials and Oral Memory".

"This is our 'Teacher Yin' AI model. Based on all available publicly available historical materials, local chronicles, and survivor testimonies, it conducted over 100,000 scenario simulations and probability analyses under different parameter conditions for the events that occurred near the water tower of the Anshan Steel Plant on the night of August 14, 1945. The analysis results show a high statistical correlation between Takahashi Nobusuke's 'forced suicide' and his adopted son Yin Shaoqing's 'forced disappearance,' and the factor that Takeda Koichi and his associates were present and exerted pressure. Of course, this is only an academic probability analysis report based on publicly available data, not legal evidence. But I think it is enough to raise reasonable and serious questions for anyone who truly cares about historical truth, rather than just interests."

The conference room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop; only heavy breathing and the faint hum of the air conditioner could be heard. Everyone was stunned by this barrage of attacks. From a dispute over intellectual property rights, it jumped directly to accusations of historical guilt—the turn was too abrupt, too steep, and the sheer volume of information was overwhelming, leaving everyone dizzy.

Zhao Xinguo was deathly pale, cold sweat streaming down his temples. He thought he was just here to grab a piece of cake, but he never expected to be dragged into a historical reckoning that could involve war crimes! This is fucking outrageous!

The man with the fake smile, Takeda, his chest heaving violently, his fists clenched tightly under the table, clearly struggling to suppress his raging anger and… a hint of barely perceptible panic. Jin Zhaoxuan's move was ruthless; not only had he refused the cooperation outright, but he had also dredged up and publicly exposed potentially shameful past transgressions within the Takeda family. This was more devastating than any business failure!

"Mr. Kim, you are deliberately undermining the friendly relations between the Chinese and Japanese people! You are disrupting the normal business exchange environment!" Representative Takeda practically spat out these words through gritted teeth, his voice trembling with anger.

“True friendship is built on the foundation of facing history squarely and respecting the truth.” Jin Zhaoxuan stood up straight, his face still pale, but his posture was as upright as a pine tree, his gaze piercing and unyielding. “Trying to cover up historical crimes, continuing to covet the cultural heritage and technological achievements that other peoples have protected with their blood and tears, and even attempting to use capital and technological advantages for disguised plunder and whitewashing—this is not friendship, Mr. Takeda. This is neo-colonialism in a suit and tie. This approach will not work today, on this land.”

Having said all that, it's like completely tearing off the mask of civility, even the last fig leaf has been ripped away.

The atmosphere in the meeting room was extremely tense. Several city leaders looked extremely solemn and exchanged glances. The situation had completely spiraled out of control, escalating from an economic dispute to a sensitive area involving history and politics.

Just as the presiding leader took a deep breath, preparing to forcibly adjourn the meeting to prevent the situation from escalating further—

The laptop in front of Jin Zhaoxuan, which had been as quiet as a chicken and seemed to be just a background prop, suddenly emitted a very crisp and pleasant "ding" sound.

A clean and simple pop-up window appeared automatically without warning and hovered in the center of the screen.

There is only one line of perfectly clear bold text above:

[System notification: The core AI model 'Teacher Yin' has completed its self-check and restart process. The full-perception interaction interface is ready. Current status: Online.]

Immediately afterward, before anyone could react, a voice suddenly emanated from the computer in the conference room, connected to the public sound system. It was a voice everyone knew intimately—clear, gentle, yet now possessing an indescribable clarity, penetrating power, and calming strength—neither too loud nor too soft, resonating perfectly throughout the silent space.

"Excuse me, everyone. I am Yin Shaoqing."