Beyond standard deviation
Jiang Mo didn't sleep well all night after receiving that text message. In her dream, there were constantly fluctuating data waveforms and Shen Zhiyan's calm, expressionless eyes through his glasses. He kept saying "standard deviation" and "noise," while she stood in the center of the laboratory, not on the floor, but on the soft, ginger-yellow soil of her potted plant, which made her sink deeper and deeper.
She woke before dawn, lying on her hotel bed, staring at the blurry outline of the ceiling in the darkness. Her phone was still in her hand, the screen displaying the text message from "Xiao Chen." The words "personal habitual activity" were like a brand. Shen Zhiyan knew, and not only knew, he had "handled" the problem in an almost procedural way. There was no judgment, no exploration, just an optimization solution, as if processing a set of abnormal data.
This approach made her feel uneasy, as if she had been seen through, yet strangely mixed with a sense of being respected—he did not try to interrupt or change her "ritual," but rather avoided potential "environmental interference" for it.
Instead of heading to the balcony as usual, she silently recited the two chapters of the *Tao Te Ching*. The entire process was as quiet as an internal struggle. She wasn't sure if she was praying to some unseen "fortune" or trying to calm the turmoil stirred up by Shen Zhiyan's data-driven world. "Lu Gen," far away on the hotel balcony, now seemed more like a spiritual anchor.
At nine o'clock sharp, she appeared at the entrance of the A-area laboratory. Sure enough, a low-frequency rumble, louder than usual, came from inside; the debugging of large equipment had begun. Shen Zhiyan was already inside, talking with several engineers beside a huge instrument. He was wearing a light gray shirt today, the cuffs still meticulously rolled up, his expression focused as he listened intently.
Seeing Jiang Mo enter, he glanced at her, gave a barely perceptible nod as a greeting, and then resumed his discussion with the engineer. His attitude was no different from usual, as if the thoughtful text message had nothing to do with him.
Jiang Mo was happy to have some peace and quiet. She went to her workstation, sat down, and began organizing the materials she might need for today's recording. The directing team arrived one after another. During a break from setting up the equipment, the assistant director leaned over and whispered to Jiang Mo, "Sister Mo, there's a segment today that requires some interaction between you and Teacher Shen. You can't just keep doing your own thing. Do you think you could find a reason to ask him a question? Ideally, something that... showcases his professional charm, but isn't too profound, something the audience can understand?"
Jiang Mo glanced up at the figure engrossed in a technical discussion not far away and sighed inwardly. Asking him a question? It felt like actively injecting new observational samples into his data analysis system.
The equipment debugging was complete, and recording officially began. Today's lesson was about learning to use a data analysis software for simple pattern recognition. Shen Zhiyan's explanation was logically clear and precise in its terminology, but terms like "clustering algorithm" and "feature vector" were still like gibberish to Jiang Mo. She followed the instructions, but the results displayed on the screen were consistently unsatisfactory.
The assistant director kept giving her meaningful glances off-camera. Jiang Mo sighed helplessly. Once, when Shen Zhiyan was patrolling near her workstation, she took a deep breath, looked up, and tried to make her expression appear purely curious: "Professor Shen, I have a question. If this kind of pattern recognition is applied to… for example, identifying a person's behavioral habits, how accurate would it be?"
She regretted asking the question as soon as she did. It sounded too pointed, almost a veiled reference to his ability to identify her "recitation voice" and "Spanish".
Shen Zhiyan stopped and turned to face her. The overhead light from the lab reflected two white glints on his glasses, obscuring the emotions in his eyes. He didn't answer immediately, but instead glanced at the chaotic data distribution charts on her screen.
“The accuracy of behavioral pattern recognition depends on multiple variables,” he began, his voice steady as ever. “These include the dimensions of data collection, the number of samples, the noise level, and the complexity of the model itself.” He raised his hand and gestured to the inconspicuous environmental sensor next to her screen. “For example, with only a single audio data stream and in the presence of environmental noise interference, the confidence level for recognizing specific non-standard vocal content (such as non-native language recitation) may be less than 70 percent, and it is easily confused with background noise or other similar frequency speech signals.”
Jiang Mo's heart suddenly raced. He understood her unspoken meaning and immediately used more precise data language to completely deflect her cautious probing into a technical discussion. He acknowledged the potential for errors in the identification process, but also clearly pointed out the data source—the ubiquitous environmental sensor. He distanced himself from the issue, positioning himself merely as a neutral data processing link.
The assistant director was clearly very satisfied with this interaction, which was full of professional jargon yet subtly witty, and gave a thumbs up off-camera.
Jiang Mo felt a wave of powerlessness. She seemed to see herself standing in a huge, invisible maze, while Shen Zhiyan stood on top of the maze, holding a map of the entire maze, calmly observing her every turn and every obstacle she encountered.
During her lunch break, Jiang Mo didn't go to the rest room arranged by the production team. Instead, she wandered alone to the lobby on the first floor of the center. There was a small indoor ecological garden there, planted with many green plants. She needed something green to soothe her tense nerves.
She stood in front of a lush clump of green ivy, lost in thought, when a slightly familiar voice came from behind her.
"Miss Jiang also likes plants?"
Jiang Mo turned around and saw Shen Zhiyan's assistant, Xiao Chen, a young man who looked like he had just graduated and was wearing black-rimmed glasses. He was holding a cup of coffee and standing a little shyly not far away.
"Just browsing." Jiang Mo smiled. "The environment here is very nice."
Xiao Chen took a few steps closer and followed her gaze to the clump of green plants: "Yes, it's much more lively than the lab. I had to insist on putting that green plant in Professor Shen's office; he initially complained that it took up too much space and interfered with his storage of documents."
Jiang Mo was somewhat surprised: "Professor Shen... keeps plants in his office?" She found it hard to imagine that the man whose mind was full of formulas and data would remember to water the plants.
“Hmm,” Xiao Chen nodded, seemingly opening up, “Teacher Shen just complains about the hassle, but he actually takes very good care of it. He even created a simple growth log for that pothos, recording changes in light, watering time, and leaf count, saying it can help observe the long-term effects of the indoor environment on plant growth.” He paused, lowering his voice slightly, “Actually, Teacher Shen is a very nice person, it’s just… sometimes his way of thinking is a little different from ours. If he says anything too direct, Miss Jiang, please don’t take it to heart, he doesn’t mean it.”
Jiang Mo suddenly remembered the ginger-yellow cardigan and the text message that warned her about the noise interference. These details seemed to subtly echo the "growth log" that Xiao Chen had mentioned. Shen Zhiyan wasn't oblivious; he was simply understanding and responding to the world around him in his own unique way.
"Thank you, Xiao Chen," Jiang Mo said sincerely.
"You're welcome, you're welcome," Xiao Chen quickly waved his hand, as if he had completed an important task. "That... text message, Teacher Shen specifically asked me to send it. He said you might need a quiet environment."
Just then, Jiang Mo caught a glimpse of Shen Zhiyan standing at the entrance of the ecological park, holding a folder in his hand, calmly looking in their direction. Xiao Chen also saw him, immediately fell silent, and hurriedly left with his coffee.
Shen Zhiyan did not come over or say anything. He simply nodded slightly to Jiang Mo and then turned and left, as if he were just passing by.
The afternoon recording proceeded smoothly. Jiang Mo tried her best to keep up with the pace, and Shen Zhiyan provided necessary guidance as always. However, when Jiang Mo's calculation failed again due to a parameter setting error, Shen Zhiyan, after pointing out the mistake, unusually added a sentence.
“This model has a low tolerance for error, and the initial parameter settings have a significant impact on the results. It’s common to make mistakes on the first try.” He looked at the red error message on her screen, his tone unchanged, but his words were no longer cold probabilities. “There’s no need to be overly anxious. Cognitive iteration itself is a process of continuous trial and error and updating.”
Jiang Mo paused for a moment, then looked up. He had already shifted his gaze to the next workstation. That phrase, "There's no need to be overly anxious," was like a small pebble gently thrown into a corner of her heart, creating tiny ripples. Was this... a clumsy attempt at comfort?
After the recording ended, Jiang Mo packed her things to leave. As she passed Shen Zhiyan's workstation, she noticed he was facing his computer screen. The screen no longer displayed complex formulas, but rather... something that looked like some kind of design blueprint? The lines were simple, with a unique sense of rhythm.
He seemed to sense her gaze, and with a flick of his finger, he quickly switched the screen back to a display full of code.
"Miss Jiang, see you tomorrow." He turned his head, his expression unchanged.
Jiang Mo nodded, said goodbye, and left. On her way back to the hotel, the words "there's no need to be overly anxious" and the design sketch she had glimpsed kept flashing through her mind.
Xiao Chen's words, the text message, the cardigan, his almost comforting words, and the design drawing that seemed out of place in the lab atmosphere... these fragmented details were gradually piecing together in her mind a Shen Zhiyan who was completely different from her initial perception.
He is more than just a cold data processing terminal. Beneath his rigorous logic and sharp tongue, there seems to be another dimension of unknown "signals".
But what exactly was that design drawing that was so quickly hidden? Was it another side of this man, one he had never shown to anyone, beyond standard deviation and probability?
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