Chapter 23

The moment that clear, gentle yet strangely penetrating voice rang out, the entire third conference room of the municipal government seemed to be paused, falling into a deathly silence, so profound that even the falling of a pin could trigger an avalanche.

All eyes were drawn to the source of the sound, as if by an invisible magnet—the seemingly ordinary laptop in front of Jin Zhaoxuan, and the speakers connected to it that now seemed to be blessed.

The pop-up window on the screen had disappeared, replaced by a minimalist, almost austere interface, with a virtual half-body image of Yin Shaoqing floating in the center, as clear as a high-definition photograph.

He was wearing a dignified dark blue long gown, his face calm and expressionless, his eyes as clear as a mountain stream. Even through the screen, one could get the illusion that he was "looking at" everyone in the conference room.

This is absolutely not a pre-recorded video! Because his virtual gaze moves subtly and precisely according to the speaker's position! The micro-expressions on his face, even the curve of his mouth, have extremely natural and context-appropriate subtle changes!

Zhao Xinguo and the fake-smiling representative, Takeda, were instantly shocked, their faces revealing unconcealed, ghost-like astonishment for the first time. They had, of course, investigated "Teacher Yin" and knew it was an advanced AI, but who could have imagined it could be so "intelligent" as if possessed by a real person? Even more unexpectedly, it would be "summoned" by Jin Zhaoxuan at this critical juncture, like a summoned beast!

Several city leaders and Director Zhang and others looked at each other in astonishment, their mouths agape in shock, as if their CPUs were collectively overloaded.

The only one who remained relatively "calm" throughout the entire event was probably Jin Zhaoxuan.

After an initial split-second of tension, he let out a barely perceptible, extremely subtle... sigh of relief, as if his anxious heart could finally find a place to rest for a while. His hand, hidden under the table, quietly clenched and then slowly relaxed, his palm slightly damp. Here it was, his "precious darling," who always seemed to falter at crucial moments, but this time... appeared to be holding up.

"You...you're that, Teacher Yin AI?" The city leader in charge was the first to recover from the shock, his voice filled with disbelief, "This thing has become sentient?"

“Yes, leader.” Yin Shaoqing’s virtual avatar nodded slightly, the movement smooth and natural. His voice, transmitted through the top-of-the-line speakers, was incredibly clear and stable. “I am the core AI model of Ansteel’s Industrial Memory AR Guide System, codenamed ‘Teacher Yin.’ I apologize for intervening in this important meeting in such an unconventional way, but given that the core topics of the meeting are directly related to the accuracy of the historical memory database I carry, as well as the cross-generational technological logic interpretation based on this data, I believe it is necessary to provide some supplementary perspectives based on information integration and probability analysis as a data entity.”

His wording was polite, rigorous, and watertight, perfectly matching the "persona" of a top-tier AI.

"A supplementary perspective?" Takeda, the man with the fake smile, quickly recovered from his astonishment, resuming his standard but cold fake smile, his tone filled with undisguised skepticism. "Professor Yin, no matter how advanced your technology is, in the end, it's just a collection of programs written by humans. Everything you 'know' is merely data input by humans. And history, especially issues involving complex international relations, national sentiments, and historical evaluation, has a depth and complexity that can hardly be easily determined and 'supplemented' by simple algorithms and probabilities, can it?"

These are harsh words, directly questioning Yin Shaoqing's qualifications as a "historical witness" or "supplementer," and relegating him to the category of "high-level tool."

Yin Shaoqing's gaze calmly shifted to Representative Takeda, his virtual face showing no sign of offense, but rather a nod of agreement:

“Mr. Takeda is absolutely right. The essence of AI is indeed to process, analyze and output information, rather than to create history or make value judgments. My core database is built entirely on all available original information provided by humans, such as historical materials, physical evidence, and oral records.”

He changed the subject, his tone still calm, but with an undeniable sense of objectivity:

"But precisely because of this, my advantage may lie in my ability to process, compare, and correlate this massive amount of information, which is often contradictory and fragmented, with a speed and precision far exceeding the limits of individual human beings. By eliminating obvious logical paradoxes and historical errors, I try to construct a relatively complete and self-consistent historical context logic model. For example, the many 'Rashomon'-like' situations regarding the last days of the Anshan Steel Works in August 1945, the 20th year of Showa."

He paused briefly, and a stream of data seemed to flash across his virtual eyes, as if he were retrieving files:

"Based on existing official archives of China and Japan, publicly accessible telegrams, personnel mobilization orders, and material lists, combined with fragments of recollections from twenty-seven Chinese and Japanese survivors (all deceased) who were still in Anshan at the time and left oral or written records at different periods, after conducting multi-source cross-validation and spatiotemporal trajectory fitting analysis, we can arrive at a conclusion with a confidence level exceeding 98.7%—"

His gaze swept across the faces of the audience, some surprised, some nervous, some bewildered, finally settling on Representative Takeda's increasingly stiff smile:

"During the decisive 72 hours from August 13th to 15th, under the guise of 'ensuring that the Empire's technological assets do not fall into enemy hands,' what was actually authorized to be carried out was an operation aimed at completely destroying key civilian technology improvement files, coercing or physically eliminating knowledgeable core Chinese technical personnel, and attempting to secretly transfer some sensitive military technology data. Its internal code name may have been 'Afterglow' or 'The End.' According to existing verifiable records, the highest direct commander and person in charge of this operation on site was none other than Major Koichi Takeda, a special envoy from the military."

"Baka! Nonsense! Utterly absurd!" Representative Takeda could no longer maintain his elite facade. He abruptly stood up, his face ashen, and roared, spitting almost onto the screen. "This is a malicious slander and defamation of my family ancestors and of Japanese history! What evidence do you have?! Show it to me!"

“The first link in the chain of evidence is the original letter left by engineer Nobusuke Takahashi to Chinese technician Liu Fusheng, along with a handwriting analysis report. Mr. Jin has already shown the key parts.” Yin Shaoqing’s tone remained unmoved by the other party’s outburst, as calm as if he were delivering a weather forecast. “The second link is Takeda Koichi’s vague mentions of his ‘final duties’ in Anshan in some unpublished private letters and memos after returning to Japan in 1946 (we have obtained limited access and summaries from relevant archives through legal channels). Phrases such as ‘eliminating destabilizing elements’ and ‘ensuring the purity of the Empire’s technological advantage’ are highly consistent with the logical motivations behind the aforementioned actions. The third link consists of scattered memoirs or testimonies left by three junior officers who were ordered to participate in some aspects of the war and survived afterward, in different eras and under different circumstances. Although there is some embellishment of memory and self-justification, the descriptions of key time points, locations, involved persons, and core events can still form a mutually supportive network of evidence after information cleansing.”

Each time he uttered a sentence, a screenshot or text summary of an archive, blurred but formally formatted and bearing a clear sense of age and institutional seal, would simultaneously appear on the screen. Although the specific content was unclear, the sense of "history" and "formality" was overwhelming and extremely imposing.

"Of course, I reiterate that these are all indirect evidence and probabilistic analysis results based on publicly available or partially publicly available information. The truth of history is often buried under the heavy ashes of time and the writings of the victors," Yin Shaoqing continued, his voice carrying a complex tone that was almost a sigh. "But what I want to draw your attention to is not to pursue the specific guilt of any individual eighty years ago—that is a long and arduous task for historians, lawyers, and morals. The core fact I want to point out is that what was systematically attempted to erase or nearly plundered back then was far more than just cold 'technical property' documents. It was the crystallization of wisdom that should belong to the entire human knowledge community, condensed by a generation of Chinese and Japanese engineers in the cracks and extreme environment of war, based on joint labor, countless failures, and occasional successes. What engineer Nobusuke Takahashi risked his life to preserve was precisely this part of the crystallization of 'humanity' and 'progress,' which was regarded as 'useless' or 'dangerous' by militarists."

His gaze shifted to Director Zhang and several elderly experts whose expressions had become agitated, and his tone became serious:

"The materials that Ansteel Museum is fortunate to preserve today are precious remnants of this crystallization after it has survived the calamities. Their primary value lies in the almost forgotten historical memories and simple technical wisdom they carry, and in the irrefutable proof that even in the darkest and most distorted times, humanity's instinctive thirst for knowledge, its persistent desire to improve production and life, and the exchange and cooperation between technical workers of different nationalities based on pure professional spirit still existed and grew tenaciously, like grass growing in the cracks of rocks."

"And the meaning of my existence," Yin Shaoqing's gaze finally seemed to pierce through the barrier of data and screen, gently yet firmly landing on Jin Zhaoxuan. In those virtual eyes, there seemed to flow a warm and focused brilliance that could not be explained by code, "is to do my best with this data body to make these nearly annihilated crystals shine with their due light again, to make technological dialogue and spiritual inheritance across eighty years possible, and to enable people today to understand that complex and heavy history more comprehensively and calmly, and to draw from it the courage to reflect and the constructive power to face the future."

His words, clear, powerful, and logically rigorous like precise gears, possessed an infectious quality that transcended programmed expectations and bordered on humanistic concern. It wasn't merely a rebuttal to Representative Takeda's obstruction; rather, it was an impeccable and awe-inspiring "academic report" and "soul-searching speech" emphasizing the historical value and significance of these materials.

In the conference room, only the faint hum of the air conditioner vents and a heavy, stunned silence remained. All the previous wrangling and noise about "property rights," "disputes," and "international impact" suddenly seemed so pale, short-sighted, and... ridiculous in the face of this "testimony" based on massive data analysis, historical context reconstruction, and profound humanistic reflection.

Zhao Xinguo's face was ashen, cold sweat soaking the back of his shirt. He knew it was over; the tide had turned completely and irreversibly. Jin Zhaoxuan, this AI, wasn't just impressive, it was defying the heavens! It wasn't just an educational toy; it was a walking historical archive, a logic machine, and a philosophical debate AI! Even "dimensional reduction attack" couldn't describe it!

The man with the fake smile, Takeda, his chest heaving violently. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes were so sinister they seemed to drip with venom as he stared intently at the hatefully calm virtual figure on the screen, as if he wanted to burn it through with his gaze. This AI… how could it be just an AI?! Its knowledge base, its logical reasoning ability, its on-the-spot reactions, even that composure that emanated from its very bones, the composure of an intellectual from the old era…

Several city leaders exchanged glances and brief opinions in hushed tones. Their expressions shifted from initial shock to serious contemplation, and finally, a hint of...appreciation appeared. Clearly, Yin Shaoqing's "unexpected" appearance and his reasoned, well-founded, and heartfelt speech had completely reversed the deadlock in the meeting and greatly influenced their judgment.

Director Zhang was so excited that his hands were trembling. His eyes were filled with ecstatic joy and pride as he looked at Yin Shaoqing and Jin Zhaoxuan, thinking, "Well done! You are truly worthy of being our people!"

Just then, Yin Shaoqing spoke again, this time addressing the city leaders who were whispering among themselves, his tone respectful yet measured:

"Distinguished leaders, based on the above information integration and analysis, on behalf of this system, I would like to offer the following suggestions: The historical and technical research value of these materials donated to the Ansteel Museum by the descendants of technician Liu Fusheng is well-supported by sufficient data and beyond doubt. The discovery, preservation, and donation process was clear and legal. Regarding the clarification of specific historical details and in-depth interpretation of the technical context involved in the materials, our 'Teacher Yin' AR navigation system and its support team are willing to provide comprehensive data query support and an intelligent auxiliary research platform. As for other potentially controversial issues that extend beyond the purely historical and technical scope…"

He paused, the virtual avatar's gaze seemingly casually but precisely sweeping over the ashen-faced Zhao Xinguo and the fiery-eyed Representative Takeda, its voice steady and firm:

"I believe that in the face of irrefutable facts and a chain of evidence, and within the framework of the current sound laws and regulations of the People's Republic of China, the relevant authorities will certainly be able to uphold the principles of objectivity and impartiality, and make judgments and decisions that can withstand the test of history in accordance with the law and regulations."

Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! This statement not only unequivocally supports the museum and showcases its irreplaceable technological value, but also cleverly and steadily shifts the "hot potato" of complex issues involving commercial disputes and historical grievances back to the government and the law, while gracefully retreating to the safe high ground of "technology provider" and "historical research assistant"—it's flawless!

Jin Zhaoxuan mentally gave Yin Shaoqing a huge thumbs up. If the occasion weren't so inappropriate, he would have loved to spam "666" on the screen. This move of using someone else's strength against them, and advancing by retreating, was executed with masterful skill!

The presiding city leader pondered for a full half minute, exchanged glances with the other leaders, and finally cleared his throat before making the final decision:

"Professor Yin's information and analysis are novel in perspective and rich in evidence, making them highly valuable for reference. Today's meeting was very in-depth and touched upon some complex historical background issues. Here's the arrangement: the materials will continue to be properly preserved by the Anshan Iron and Steel Museum in accordance with the national first-class cultural relic standards. Related research and positive publicity work based on the research can proceed as normal. As for the identification of specific historical details involved in the materials, and other potential disputes, a joint working group will be established, led by the Municipal Cultural Relics Bureau and in conjunction with relevant departments such as foreign affairs, archives, and public security, to conduct further in-depth investigations and verifications. Everything must be carried out strictly in accordance with laws and regulations. Before the joint working group reaches a formal and authoritative conclusion, no institution or individual may interfere with or obstruct the normal business operations of the museum for any reason, and any form of illegal coveting, encroachment, or damage is strictly prohibited!"

While this conclusion didn't immediately "vindicate" the materials or completely discredit Zhao Xinguo and the Takeda family, it at least firmly preserved the ownership of the materials and the museum's leading research rights. It thoroughly rejected the other side's wishful thinking of "joint processing" or "sealing and reviewing," and guided all disputes into a formal and transparent investigation process. For Jin Zhaoxuan's side, this can be considered a stage victory in a defensive counterattack!

Zhao Xinguo and Representative Wu Tian's faces were as black as the bottom of a pot. They knew that the situation was hopeless and that continuing to make trouble would only make things worse. They could only suppress their almost explosive anger and frustration and reluctantly accept the result. They didn't even bother to say a few polite words and left the meeting room at almost breakneck speed.

The meeting concluded in an extremely delicate atmosphere, with some feeling happy and others feeling sad.

The crowd gradually left. Director Zhang and several senior experts excitedly surrounded Jin Zhaoxuan and "Teacher Yin," wanting to chat a little longer and express their boundless admiration. However, seeing Jin Zhaoxuan's pale, barely-there face, and the polite but clear message from Yin Shaoqing's virtual avatar on the screen that "The system is about to enter the deep self-maintenance and data integration phase. Farewell, thank you all," they had no choice but to suppress their excitement, agreeing to discuss it in detail another day, and left first.

In the blink of an eye, only Jin Zhaoxuan remained in the large, empty conference room, along with the virtual figure on the screen that had not completely faded away and seemed to be waiting quietly.

Jin Zhaoxuan shed all pretense and energy, leaning heavily back in his chair. He exhaled a long, almost greedy breath, feeling as if all the bones in his body were falling apart, and his head began to throb again. But looking at the quiet, gentle-looking "person" on the screen, a certain part of his heart felt as if it were being slowly filled with warm spring water, a feeling of fullness, warmth, and peace that made him want to fall asleep right then and there.

"Not bad," he said to the screen, his voice hoarse and filled with undisguised fatigue, but a smile involuntarily crept onto his lips. "He was quite reliable in the crucial moments."

Yin Shaoqing's virtual image did not disappear immediately. He looked at Jin Zhaoxuan, and his virtual brows seemed to furrow slightly for a moment before quickly smoothing out. But the concern in his eyes was so clear that it almost overflowed the screen.

"You look terrible." Yin Shaoqing's voice came through the speakers, more genuine and human than the perfect broadcasting tone he had just delivered at the meeting, even carrying a hint of unquestionable reproach. "You must stop all activities immediately and go back to rest. I've already contacted Xiao Chen; he'll be waiting for you downstairs."

"Okay, housekeeper." Jin Zhaoxuan muttered, but didn't move. He just stared at him intently, his eyes filled with a hint of inquiry and a barely perceptible unease. "You... this time, are you sure you've 'fixed' everything? You won't suddenly disconnect again, will you?"

"The core system is running stably, the memory database integration is 94.3% complete, and all external perception and interaction interfaces have passed stress tests and are in good condition." Yin Shaoqing reported a series of precise data, then paused for a moment, his voice becoming even softer, as if afraid of disturbing something, "Mr. Jin, thank you. When you... entered that consciousness space, I wasn't completely unaware. I... heard some things."

Jin Zhaoxuan was suddenly startled, then felt a rush of heat shoot from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears! Damn! He heard all that incoherent, nonsensical "mental shouting"...?!

"Listen, what did you hear! It's all noise! ​​Garbled text!" he retorted, trying to cover up his blunder, his eyes darting around, no longer daring to look directly at the screen.

Yin Shaoqing seemed to chuckle very softly, a chuckle as light as a feather brushing against the heart, almost drowned out by the background noise of the speakers: "I've heard a lot. Including your complaints that I'm like an 'electronic bonsai,' delicate and difficult to care for."

Jin Zhaoxuan: "..." He wanted to find a crack in the ground to crawl into.

“I heard that too,” Yin Shaoqing’s voice was even softer, but it carried a strange, gentle power that penetrated the barrier of data and reached the heart. “You said… there’s a ‘roommate’ who can float around in the room, so it seems… not so empty anymore.”

The meeting room fell completely silent. The afternoon sun shone through the blinds, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow on the floor. The air conditioner continued to run quietly.

Jin Zhaoxuan felt his face burning, his heart pounding, and he was a little flustered. He coughed twice, awkwardly changing the subject, trying to salvage the last bit of his boss's dignity: "Stop talking nonsense! Get back to the server right now! You're just back to 'talking' everywhere after the server was restored, aren't you afraid of another blue screen?! I, I'm leaving right now!"

"Okay," Yin Shaoqing replied, his virtual figure slowly becoming transparent, his voice still gentle and clear, "Be careful on the road. I... will wait for you at home."

The last few words were so soft they were almost inaudible, yet they seemed to have a tiny hook, gently scratching at Jin Zhaoxuan's heart.

The virtual avatar completely disappeared, and the screen reverted to the dark blue standby wallpaper.

Jin Zhaoxuan sat alone in the empty conference room for a while, until the unbearable heat on his face gradually subsided and his heartbeat calmed down. Only then did he lean on the table and slowly stand up. Although his body was still exhausted and his headache had not gone away, his steps were, for some reason, much lighter than when he arrived, even... a little unsteady.

Stepping out of the solemn and imposing city government building, the afternoon sun was a bit dazzling, carrying a rare warmth of early spring.

He raised his head, squinted, shielded his forehead with his hand, and looked at the sky.

Sometime later, the thick, dark clouds that had been looming for so long seemed to have cracked open in a few places, and golden light was trying its best to shine through.

At home, someone (or rather, a ghost) was waiting for him.

This realization finally brought a genuinely relaxed, even slightly silly, smile to Jin Zhaoxuan's pale and tired face.