Domain knowledge
Shen Zhiyan's "cooperation proposal" was like a clear instruction, opening a gap in Jiang Mo's chaotic thoughts. Not only did he not back down in the face of the anonymous warning, but he also pushed the two's "data defense line" to a deeper level in an almost siege-like manner—shifting from passive monitoring and analysis to proactive modeling and counterattack.
This trust, bearing the unique mark of his rationality, weighed heavily on Jiang Mo's heart, yet it also dispelled the chill born of her isolation and helplessness. She was no longer simply accepting his protection, but had become an indispensable "domain expert" in his algorithmic model.
Over the next two days, Jiang Mo became increasingly calm in the lab. She no longer deliberately maintained a certain "stable output," but truly immersed herself in the task at hand. Even during a discussion about signal filtering, she proactively raised a question based on her own experience: "If I want to hear a specific instrument clearly in the background of a noisy audio file, can I use a similar filtering principle?"
Researcher Zhou was somewhat surprised, but then patiently explained. Jiang Mo listened attentively, her gaze focused. She didn't notice that Shen Zhiyan in the main control area glanced up at her when she asked the question, a fleeting glint of something like "the data matches expectations" flashing in his eyes behind his glasses.
During her lunch break, she declined Linda's suggestion to go back to the hotel and "rest properly," staying alone in the lounge area and opening her laptop. Instead of looking at the complex media reports, she pulled up an encrypted private folder. Inside were analyses of the tactics employed by various competitors, partners, and even well-known marketing accounts—spanning several years—compiled by her team since she entered the industry. These were Linda and her team's "industry archives," the bloody "domain knowledge" accumulated through countless open and covert battles.
She needed to sift through and extract the "behavioral characteristic data" required for the Shen Zhiyan model. This wasn't simply listing evidence, but rather categorizing it using logic he could understand: the timing patterns of online troll posts, the iterative patterns of smear tactics, the interconnected characteristics of key moments, and common triggers for shifts in public opinion...
She was so engrossed in her work that she didn't even notice when Shen Zhiyan sat down opposite her.
"How's it going?" he asked, speaking softly so as not to disturb others.
Jiang Mo looked up from the screen, rubbed her slightly sore neck, and turned the computer screen slightly towards him: "I've compiled some historical cases. I've discovered that they have several fixed 'scripts' for manipulating public opinion, such as 'praising to death,' 'creating antagonism,' and 'quoting out of context'... Moreover, although the accounts that execute these scripts change their aliases time and time again, their behavioral patterns have a strong continuity."
She pointed to a timeline she had compiled: "Look, the 'academic genius persona collapse' incident targeting the L-surname flower three years ago and the 'pretending to be a cultured person backfire' incident targeting me this time are very similar in terms of the choice of trigger point and the path of spread."
Shen Zhiyan leaned forward, his eyes quickly scanning the charts and text annotations on the screen, his expression focused as if he were dealing with important data. He read quickly, occasionally pointing out one or two imprecise expressions, such as "'a large number of online trolls' needs more specific quantitative indicators," or "'rapid dissemination' needs a defined time window."
His questioning was precise and demanding, entirely in line with his attitude towards scientific research data. But Jiang Mo didn't feel offended; instead, she found a strange peace in this pure, shared-goal discussion. They were like two scholars from different disciplines, working together to tackle a difficult problem; she provided specific observations of the phenomena, while he was responsible for constructing the theoretical framework.
After recording ended in the evening, Shen Zhiyan packed up his things but didn't leave immediately as usual. He walked over to Jiang Mo's workstation and suggested in his usual tone, "There are still some details that need to be confirmed regarding the model's feature dimensions. There's a lot of environmental interference here, so if you don't mind, we can go to a... quieter place to discuss it."
Jiang Mo instantly understood his implied meaning. After a moment's thought, she nodded: "Okay, let's go to my apartment. The documents are all on my computer."
This was the first time she had proactively invited a man outside of a working relationship into her private space. Shen Zhiyan seemed taken aback for a moment, then quickly regained his composure: "Okay."
The car pulled into the garage of a high-end apartment building in the city center, and the elevator went straight to the top floor. Jiang Mo opened the door, and motion-sensor lights illuminated the spacious and stylish living room. Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows was a panoramic view of the city lights coming on at dusk. The Italian Minotti sofa had sleek lines, and a French Liaigre floor lamp stood to one side, casting a soft glow. There wasn't much decoration, but every piece of furniture and every detail exuded understated quality and refined taste.
Shen Zhiyan stood in the entryway, his gaze sweeping quickly and restrainedly across the entire space, as if collecting environmental parameters. His expression remained unchanged, but the slight pause in his steps betrayed a perception quite different from his usual one in the laboratory.
"Please, make yourself at home." Jiang Mo took off her coat and walked towards the island in the open kitchen. "Water or tea?"
"Warm water, thank you." Shen Zhiyan sat down on the sofa as instructed, her posture still upright, yet strangely, she didn't seem out of place with her surroundings.
Jiang Mo poured some water and placed her laptop on the coffee table, then opened it. The two quickly resumed their previous discussion. She guided Shen Zhiyan through the timeline she had compiled, explaining the unwritten rules and coded language of the entertainment industry, and analyzing the common tactics used by different capital factions.
Shen Zhiyan listened intently, occasionally asking key questions and taking notes on his tablet. When he heard a particularly typical "smear script," he even nodded thoughtfully and commented, "A classic attention-shifting strategy that uses cognitive bias to amplify secondary contradictions."
His technical jargon sometimes made Jiang Mo want to laugh, but more often it gave her the exhilarating feeling of meeting a worthy opponent. She discovered that once he shed his initial prejudice of viewing her as a "noise source," his understanding and insight were astonishing.
During a break in the discussion, Shen Zhiyan's gaze was drawn to a uniquely designed metal bookshelf next to the sofa. Aside from a few literary works and film-related monographs, it was surprisingly filled with books on psychology, sociology, and even semiotics, several of which were original English editions. The spines showed clear signs of being read.
"You've also studied these things?" He was somewhat surprised.
Jiang Mo followed his gaze, smiled, and said with a hint of self-deprecation, "I used to be indignant when people called me a 'pretty face.' I thought that even as an actress, I couldn't be completely empty-headed. If I didn't understand something, I would just keep trying, and it gradually became a habit." She paused, her tone calming down, "Now that I think about it, this knowledge didn't help me avoid being criticized, but at least... it helped me understand things a little better when I was being criticized."
Shen Zhiyan looked at her, the lamplight casting a soft shadow on her profile. His usually bright and captivating eyes now held a clarity and resilience born from weathering storms. He didn't speak, but simply picked up his water glass and took a sip.
After what seemed like an eternity, the main transfer of "domain knowledge" and the discussion of model details finally came to an end. It was already late at night outside the window, and the city lights had thinned considerably.
Shen Zhiyan put away the tablet and stood up: "The input data is sufficient. Model iteration takes time, and I will notify you as soon as there are preliminary results."
"Okay." Jiang Mo stood up and saw him to the door.
In the entryway, Shen Zhiyan changed his shoes, straightened up, and seemed about to say something, but his gaze inadvertently fell on the potted "Lu Gen" (a type of vine) in the corner of the balcony, still lush and green in the night. He paused, then looked at Jiang Mo, his tone as steady as ever:
"The 'domain knowledge' you provided has a very high signal-to-noise ratio. This is crucial for model training."
This is the highest level of recognition he can give.
Jiang Mo understood the meaning behind his words, and the subtle emotions she felt about being exposed as part of the "Jianghu Files" instantly vanished. She nodded: "It's good that I can help."
Shen Zhiyan left. The apartment returned to silence, but no longer felt empty.
Jiang Mo walked onto the balcony; the night breeze was slightly cool. She looked at "Lu Gen" and recalled the glance Shen Zhiyan had given it earlier. He had noticed, but he hadn't asked anything.
Just then, her phone screen lit up with a message from Linda, her tone tinged with confusion:
"MoMo, I just received a strange invitation. They specifically asked you and Shen Zhiyan to be spokespeople for a newly established science and technology charity foundation. The offer is high, but the background is a bit unclear. It feels... too coincidental."
As Jiang Mo looked at the message, the tension that had just eased slightly due to the cooperation agreement with Shen Zhiyan quietly tightened again.
Is this an olive branch before the storm subsides, or... another, more sophisticated trap?
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