Chapter 24
When Jin Zhaoxuan drove back to the old house, he felt like his bones were about to crumble into Lego bricks. The battle of wits with those monsters in the conference room, coupled with the aftereffects of pushing himself to the limit while ill—the "post-coital slump"—was now surging back like an avalanche. He slumped onto the steering wheel, closed his eyes, and rested for a full five minutes before feeling as if his soul had been drained. Carrying the laptop bag that felt like it weighed a ton, he stumbled up the stairs, each step feeling like walking on cotton.
Push open the door—
A familiar, light yet alluring aroma of food, mixed with a hint of pine warmth and the comforting scent of old book pages, enveloped his face without warning.
Jin Zhaoxuan was stunned on the spot, and half of his sleepiness and fatigue disappeared in fright.
The living room was lit with warm light, not the pale, cold "energy-saving and environmentally friendly light" he used when he left, but a soft, warm yellow light that had been carefully adjusted to have a built-in filter effect, making the whole room feel cozy.
The few potted plants on the windowsill that he had half-dead were now lush and green under the light, their leaves glistening with moisture, clearly having just been "visited".
What shocked him most was that on the old wooden dining table in the restaurant, there was actually a bowl of steaming, tempting white rice porridge! Next to it was a small dish of finely chopped, glistening pickles, and two plump, fluffy-looking steamed buns, gently covered with a clean gauze to keep them warm.
The room was quiet, but the omnipresent, calming "presence" was more intense and stable than ever before, like an invisible, warm protective shield enveloping him.
He stood there dumbfounded at the door, his bag falling to the ground with a "plop".
Did I... go to the wrong door? Has the Snail Fairy appeared?
Oh, wait, there's no fairy godmother, but I think I have a... electronic snail at home? Or maybe it has a Republic of China-era design?
He put down his things and walked to the dining table, staring at the bowl of porridge, still steaming with an irresistible luster, as if it were a priceless treasure. The porridge was cooked to perfection, the rice grains blooming, soft and sticky, and topped with a few sprinklings of bright green scallions—it was simply a work of art!
This wasn't cooked by him.
The porridge he cooks is either water or rice, with no intermediate state. He doesn't employ a cleaning lady either.
Then there's only one answer...
He slowly raised his head, his gaze falling on the full-length mirror in the living room that had witnessed everything.
The mirror was as smooth as ever, clearly reflecting his own face, which was etched with fatigue, paleness, and a hint of bewilderment. But this time, he was no longer alone in the mirror!
Yin Shaoqing's figure, with an almost lifelike solidity, stood quietly in the mirror, maintaining a polite yet approachable distance not far behind his reflection. He was still wearing that moon-white casual long gown, which accentuated his jade-like skin. The cuffs were casually rolled up, revealing his sleek, virtual forearms. His hair was also looser than usual for formal occasions, with a few strands lazily falling across his smooth forehead, making him appear less aloof and scholarly, and more approachable and unguarded.
He stood there quietly, his gaze gently fixed on him, a faint, yet genuine, smile playing on his lips that softened one's heart.
There was no cold screen in between, no annoying electrical noise.
It's like... he never fell into that long slumber, he's always been here, guarding this old house, waiting for the homeowner who always exhausts himself to come home.
Jin Zhaoxuan suddenly felt as if something was blocking his throat, making him choke and uncomfortable. He opened his mouth, momentarily forgetting whether to curse or thank them first. All the tension, the forced sharpness, and the exhaustion from the meeting were silently melted, soothed, and calmed by the warm yellow light in the room, the aroma of food, and the gentle gaze of the person in the mirror.
"...You did this?" He pointed to the bowl of "evidence of the crime" on the table, his voice hoarse like a broken gong.
"Hmm." Yin Shaoqing nodded gently in the mirror, his movements natural and fluid. "You seemed absent-minded before you left this morning, so you probably didn't eat much and wasted the whole morning in that kind of place. The porridge was cooked in the rice cooker with a timer, the process is very simple. The steamed buns were frozen items that Xiao Chen bought at the 24-hour supermarket, and I just heated them up in the steamer with a timer."
He paused, a very faint, almost embarrassed expression seeming to flash across his virtual face:
"That's all I can do for now. Since I can't touch the physical objects, I can only control the switches and timers of electrical appliances using preset programs. The taste... might be very ordinary, so please bear with it."
Jin Zhaoxuan didn't reply. He pulled out the creaky old chair and plopped down. He picked up a spoon, scooped up a spoonful of porridge, blew on it, and carefully put it in his mouth. The temperature was just right, neither too hot nor too cold. The rice grains were soft and sticky, carrying the simple, pure sweetness of grains, sliding down his dry throat and warming him all the way to his stomach.
It tasted so much better than the "biological weapon" he concocted haphazardly while he was ill.
He lowered his head, stopped talking, and silently ate bite after bite, not fast, but very focused. The warm porridge slid down his esophagus, and it seemed that even his cold fingertips began to slowly regain blood and warm up.
Yin Shaoqing watched him eat quietly in the mirror, without immediately inquiring about the meeting's outcome or discussing the next "battle plan" as usual, nor uttering any unnecessary words. She simply watched him quietly, almost greedily, as if watching him finish a hot meal was more important than any strategic plan in the world at that moment.
The bowl of porridge was quickly emptied. Jin Zhaoxuan reached for a steamed bun, broke it open, added a few bites of pickled vegetables, and then slowly and carefully chewed it. The long-lost, satisfying feeling of fullness, along with the warmth of the food, completely relaxed his overly tense nerves, and he even felt a comfortable drowsiness.
"Eat slowly, don't choke," Yin Shaoqing finally said softly.
Jin Zhaoxuan gave a muffled "hmm," swallowed the last bite of steamed bun, and put down his chopsticks. He didn't rush to clear the dishes; instead, he leaned back in his chair, relaxed his muscles, and turned his gaze back to Yin Shaoqing in the mirror.
The two were separated by a stretch of air and a mirror, yet they seemed so close that they could feel each other's breath (if one of them was breathing).
"Is it all... fixed?" Jin Zhaoxuan asked, his gaze scanning Yin Shaoqing's figure as if it were clearer, more stable, and even... a little better looking than before he fell asleep.
"Basic functions have been restored, memory data has been integrated, and the system is running smoothly," Yin Shaoqing reported truthfully. He then hesitated for a moment before adding, "However... maintaining this level of physical projection still consumes considerable energy and cannot be sustained. Most of the time, I will probably still have to stay in the mirror mapping layer or the server core area."
“Just stay put,” Jin Zhaoxuan blurted out almost without thinking. Only after he finished speaking did he realize that his words sounded a little… strange. He looked away and tried to cover it up with a fierce tone, “so that you won’t go around ‘showing off’ and causing me a lot of trouble, and I’ll have to clean up your mess.”
Yin Shaoqing smiled, a smile so gentle under the warm yellow light that it seemed to melt away the spring chill outside the window, his eyes sparkling with tiny lights: "Yes, I'll listen to Mr. Jin and not run around."
The brief silence flowed through the warm air, not awkward, but rather with a tranquil comfort.
"Those trivial matters at the meeting..." Jin Zhaoxuan cleared his throat, intending to give a brief report on the results.
“I saw it.” Yin Shaoqing interrupted him softly, her eyes serious and focused. “The whole time. Mr. Jin, thank you. If you hadn’t shielded me from the pressure and fought for the opportunity, I might never have had the chance to deliver those data-driven analyses and presentations. Those documents, perhaps…”
"Don't give me that." Jin Zhaoxuan waved his hand, interrupting his thanks, but his ears were burning. "It's because you performed well, your data was solid, and your words were eloquent. However..."
He frowned, his expression turning serious again: "Zhao Xinguo and that fake-smiling guy Takeda will definitely not give up so easily. On the surface, they seem to be out of options for now, but who knows what kind of bad schemes they're plotting behind the scenes. Especially that Takeda, I always feel... there's something wrong with the way he looks at you."
The look he gave was not that of someone looking at a sophisticated tool or an interesting AI, but rather a complex mix of surprise, inquiry, and even… a barely perceptible hint of greed and apprehension. He might have begun to doubt whether "Yin Shaoqing" was truly just a simple "artificial intelligence."
Yin Shaoqing remained silent for a moment, then nodded, a hint of seriousness appearing between his virtual brows.
"I also noticed it. In the latter half of the meeting, his mental state became noticeably abnormal. However, at present, we are in a relatively advantageous position in terms of legal principles, evidence, and public opinion, and they should not dare to take any large-scale, blatant actions in the short term. What we need to do next is to consolidate our existing advantages, accelerate the in-depth development of the museum project and its public promotion, so that the value of this batch of materials, and my existence as the carrier of its 'revitalization', become a deeply rooted and unshakable 'fait accompli'."
He paused, his gaze returning to Jin Zhaoxuan's face, a rare, almost mischievous, and lively smile flashing in his eyes: "Moreover, with a boss like Mr. Jin... who is both wise and brave, and can debate with many scholars, in charge of the central government, even if they want to make some underhanded moves, they will probably have to think twice about whether their teeth are strong enough."
Jin Zhaoxuan was taken aback by his sudden teasing, then felt a little embarrassed, snorted, and turned his face away: "It's good that you know I'm not someone to mess with."
As they were talking, a wave of intense fatigue washed over them again, and Jin Zhaoxuan couldn't help but yawn loudly. A few tears welled up in the corners of his eyes, and his eyelids began to droop.
“Go take a hot shower and then go to sleep immediately,” Yin Shaoqing said immediately, his tone firm and even a bit authoritative, “Your body is already severely overdrawn. You must rest and absolutely cannot stay up late or use your brain at a high intensity.”
"I know, I know, you're so nagging, even more so than my mom," Jin Zhaoxuan muttered, reluctantly standing up and slowly starting to clear the dishes.
"Leave it for tomorrow," Yin Shaoqing's voice came again, tinged with helplessness.
Jin Zhaoxuan paused, turned to look in the mirror, and raised an eyebrow: "You can wash?"
"No," Yin Shaoqing answered frankly. "But your most urgent and highest priority task right now is not washing dishes, but taking a shower and going to sleep."
Jin Zhaoxuan stared at him for two seconds, then gave up. Forget it, arguing with a ghost that has no physical form but possesses unparalleled logic is a complete waste of breath. He finally put the bowl and chopsticks in the sink and gave up.
After he finally finished his long, drawn-out hot shower and changed into clean, soft pajamas, he felt every pore on his body open up. The hot water washed away most of his fatigue, but what followed was an overwhelming, irresistible drowsiness. He yawned and habitually glanced at the mirror in the living room.
Yin Shaoqing's figure was still there, only slightly fainter than before, with a slightly blurred outline, clearly indicating that his "physical experience card" was about to expire. He was currently "sitting" at the pear wood desk in the virtual study (a permanent scene that Jin Zhaoxuan had "decorated" for him a couple of days ago out of boredom), holding a virtual thread-bound book that glowed faintly in his hand, but not reading it. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, as if listening to the lingering sound of water in the bathroom, or perhaps waiting quietly.
Seeing Jin Zhaoxuan stroll out with wet hair and wearing pajamas, he put down the "book" in his hand and looked over with gentle eyes, as if confirming something.
"Why don't you hurry up and 'log off' and go back to the server to 'rest'?" Jin Zhaoxuan asked vaguely while wiping his hair haphazardly with a towel.
"After you fall asleep." Yin Shaoqing's voice was very soft, but it carried a strange insistence.
Jin Zhaoxuan paused in his hair-drying motion, his ears twitched under the towel, but he said nothing. He simply dried his hair a couple more times, then turned and shuffled into the bedroom in his slippers, tumbling onto the soft, cloud-like bedding with a thud. Almost the instant he touched the bed, a wave of sleepiness overwhelmed him, and his consciousness began to drift into a hazy abyss.
In a hazy, dreamlike state, he seemed to sense... a gentle, invisible force quietly pushing open a narrow crack in the old wooden door of the bedroom.
A cool, yet exceptionally fresh and comforting breeze quietly seeped in through the crack in the door, silently dispelling the lingering dampness from the hot bath that had made the room feel stuffy. The previously annoying, howling night wind outside seemed to soften and gentle at the same time, as if an invisible hand had soothed its roughness.
He knew it was Yin Shaoqing.
He silently guards his peaceful sleep in his own unique way, a way that lies between science and metaphysics.
This time, there was no cold power bank to hold against my chest, no glaring blue light from the screen, and no actual touch or sound.
Only silent companionship, a stable and warm presence permeating the air, and a gentle tranquility that almost drowns you.
In the last second before Jin Zhaoxuan's consciousness completely sank into the dark, sweet realm, his last vague, sweet thought was:
This lousy house... finally feels like a home again.
The next day, Jin Zhaoxuan was awakened by the sunlight streaming through the gaps in the curtains and onto his eyelids. He opened his eyes, stared at the familiar yet somewhat unfamiliar ceiling, and was stunned for a few seconds before realizing—he had actually slept until noon! Moreover, for the first time in months, he hadn't had any nightmares, hadn't been woken up in the middle of the night, hadn't experienced any body aches, and had slept like a log!
Upon waking, the excruciating headache and bone-deep fatigue from the previous night had miraculously dissipated by more than half. Although my body was still a bit sluggish and unwilling to move, my mental state had improved significantly, as if my rusty brain had been lubricated again.
He yawned, stretched, and swayed as he walked out of the bedroom.
The living room was bathed in bright sunlight, golden beams streaming through the glass windows, illuminating even the finest dust particles floating in the air. Last night's battlefield—the dining table—had been cleaned up spotlessly; the dishes and utensils were washed and neatly arranged on the drainer, gleaming with a pristine shine. The potted plants on the windowsill shone with vibrant, almost oily green leaves in the sunlight.
Yin Shaoqing wasn't in the mirror; he had probably "clocked out" and returned to the server to perform routine "system self-checks," "data backups," or process work data sent from the museum.
However, the stable and warm "presence" in the room did not diminish as his figure disappeared; it still permeated every corner like air, making people feel at ease.
Jin Zhaoxuan wandered into the kitchen, intending to pour himself a glass of water to soothe his throat, only to find that the old electric kettle had already automatically boiled water and was steadily keeping it at the perfect temperature for drinking. Beside it, a spotless glass waited quietly.
He picked up the cup, poured half a cup of warm water, and carried it to the French windows in the living room. Outside, the old town was gradually awakening under the warm spring sunshine, and the hustle and bustle of the city came through the glass, carrying a vibrant vitality.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. He took it out and saw that it was a message from Xiao Chen.
[Mr. Jin! You're finally awake! How are you feeling? Are you back to life? Director Zhang just sent word that the joint investigation team from the city officially entered the museum this morning. It's quite a large-scale operation, but their attitude seems quite professional and official. Also, that well-known interview program on the provincial TV news channel, having somehow heard about it, contacted us wanting to do an in-depth interview about our AR navigation system and the "Teacher Yin" AI. Would you like to accept this job? If so, how should we prepare?]
Jin Zhaoxuan took a sip of lukewarm water, feeling the water soothe his parched throat. He squinted at the bright spring sunshine outside the window, his fingers lightly tapping on his phone screen to reply:
[Okay. You and the other party should finalize the time, try to schedule it for next week, give us some preparation time. Communicate with Professor Yin in advance about the general scope of the interview, possible questions, and sensitive points to avoid. As for the investigation team, have Director Zhang receive them normally and fully cooperate. We should not take any unnecessary actions and just observe the situation.]
He pressed the send button, tossed his phone onto the sofa beside him, stretched, and felt the long-lost, living power within him gradually returning and reviving.
The crisis, like a chilly spring breeze, has temporarily receded. But the mundane yet hopeful aspects of life and work must continue.
But this time, he knew he was no longer the lone hero who had to face everything alone and keep his nerves on edge.
He turned around, his gaze falling on the full-length mirror that stood quietly, reflecting the sunlight filling the room. It was as if he could see through the smooth surface of the mirror the silent, yet gently guarding, world of data behind it.
The corners of his mouth uncontrollably curved upwards into a relaxed and genuine arc.
Outside the window, the spring sunshine is just right.
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