"What could I be planning? Why are you so tense?" Xie Han glared at Zhang Chenyan, feigning anger. "Why do you treat your own mother like a thief?"
"You have too many previous offenses," Zhang Chenyan replied swiftly.
If he were to list all the tricks Xie Han had used on him over the years, he could talk from morning till night. He always thought Xie Han was a rather traditional person, but in the matter of matchmaking, she constantly innovated, to the point where she could create her own school of thought.
There were those "coincidental" roadside encounters, where Xie Han would drag him out for a walk and they would "happen" to meet a girl around his age who was single. Then, Xie Han would "happen" to have something urgent to do, leaving Zhang Chenyan to escort the girl home. There were also those "coincidental" meals out where the neighboring aunt's family would "happen" to be there too, and Xie Han would "happen" to be very pleased with the girl, merging the two tables and discussing topics ranging from Zhang Chenyan's work to how many children they should have in the future.
Zhang Chenyan was already numb to these tactics and deeply aware of Xie Han's schemes. The moment she started talking, his guard would go up immediately.
"I think that girl is pretty good. You work together, right? You must know each other well," Xie Han said, looking at Zhang Chenyan.
Sure enough, Zhang Chenyan guessed correctly.
"She's an AI," Zhang Chenyan responded crisply.
Xie Han was stunned. Just as Zhang Chenyan thought the matter would end there, Xie Han suddenly said, "You're lying to me, right? How could she be an AI? She's so pretty, with such a good personality…"
Pretty? That, Zhang Chenyan could agree with.
But… good personality? Zhang Chenyan couldn't fathom how Xie Han concluded that. Did being pretty mean having a good personality?
Any girl meant a good personality?
Zhang Chenyan seriously suspected that Xie Han's current criteria for a girlfriend were: female, alive, doesn't eat dirt from the ground, and knows to come inside when it rains.
"Her avatar is custom-made. Her parents are human, but she really is an AI. I'm not lying," Zhang Chenyan said, fearing Xie Han wouldn't believe him, and proceeded to explain many things about 0810, including her creation process and her role as an adjudicator.
After hearing this, Xie Han's expression turned regretful. "What a good girl…"
Zhang Chenyan nodded expressionlessly. "She is a good girl, but she's an AI."
Just when Zhang Chenyan thought Xie Han would give up, she suddenly grabbed his hand. "Actually, AI is fine too. Mom can accept that."
This time, Zhang Chenyan was completely shocked. He used to think Xie Han's criteria for a girlfriend were: female, alive, doesn't eat dirt from the ground, and knows to come inside when it rains. Now it seemed he had overestimated himself and underestimated Xie Han.
"I'm not one of those unreasonable parents. If you truly like each other, cherish each other, and live well together, I will support you," Xie Han said sincerely. "Do I look like a wicked mother-in-law? I'll treat her well. I don't know much about AI maintenance, but I can learn."
Zhang Chenyan was genuinely moved. He hadn't expected Xie Han to compromise to this extent.
"Alright, bring her home sometime. Tell her not to be afraid. I just want to meet her," Xie Han promised resolutely. "I will approve of your relationship. Don't worry."
Zhang Chenyan nodded instinctively, then immediately realized. "Wait, what relationship? We're just colleagues!"
Zhang Chenyan was exasperated. He couldn't understand why Xie Han was so concerned about his love life. It seemed Xie Han had an inexhaustible enthusiasm and unwavering dedication to this matter.
"Why does it feel like you're in a hurry to marry me off?" Zhang Chenyan finally couldn't hold back. "My main focus now isn't this. I have a lot to do!"
"I'm almost fifty," Xie Han said, leaning against the window and looking at Zhang Chenyan.
A simple sentence made Zhang Chenyan instantly quiet, the earlier irritation and helplessness vanished.
How could he forget?
Xie Han would turn 49 this year.
Here, most people could only live to be fifty.
In other words, Xie Han didn't have much time left.
Xie Han saying "I'm almost fifty" was like telling Zhang Chenyan "I'm almost dead."
Perhaps life had been too smooth in recent years, making Zhang Chenyan forget that the underground city was inherently a harsh place. They lived in a post-apocalyptic world where the ice and snow outside were both a beautiful sight and a barrier.
Resources in the underground city were limited. Setting aside the fact that as people age, their bodily functions decline, and illnesses increase, the policies for the elderly in the underground city were tough for many to bear.
Once someone turns fifty, all their expenses double in merit points. In other words, if Zhang Chenyan needed two hundred merit points for a fever, Xie Han would need four hundred. And fifty also meant the end of one's career, with no more work income.
The underground city had many benefits for the young but was very unfriendly to the elderly. In this environment, survival was tough for everyone. The young were seen as hope and the future, naturally receiving more care and support. But the elderly…
Zhang Chenyan had opposed these measures, and many others had too, but the result was always the same—nothing changed. They were always faced with the question: If you oppose it, can you provide a reasonable solution?
Humans were no longer the dominant species. People had to face reality.
In the struggle for survival, sacrifices had to be made.
But to Zhang Chenyan, one should never give up on those who raised them.
"There will be a solution," Zhang Chenyan said seriously to Xie Han. He wasn't just comforting her; he was calculating earnestly. "My salary isn't low now, and you still have an income. We have savings. That's one part. Besides, the fifty-year rule isn't unbreakable. If we can make significant contributions, you'll receive special treatment and high merit point rewards. Then everything will be fine."
Zhang Chenyan said this because many elderly people were overly pessimistic about turning fifty, often choosing to end their lives before anything even happened. Zhang Chenyan would never allow that to happen.
No matter what, he would be there for Xie Han.
"Whatever happens, we'll face it together," Zhang Chenyan said earnestly. "You don't need to worry about my love life, marriage, or having children. I know you're just worried I'll be alone, but like I said, these things take fate. And even if fate comes, I want you to be with me as my mother."
"But…"
Xie Han wanted to say something but was interrupted by Zhang Chenyan after just two words: "Different relationships have different meanings. There's no substitution, no you stepping in for me. Doesn't that sound strange?"
Xie Han was amused by Zhang Chenyan's analogy. She eventually nodded, not saying more. "Alright then, you work hard and make significant contributions to save your old mother's life."
"Yes, ma'am!" Zhang Chenyan responded playfully.
Back in his room, Zhang Chenyan's earlier lightheartedness disappeared. His room was small, with simple furnishings: a bed, a wardrobe, a set of tables and chairs—all things Xie Han had provided for him since he was young. If he had to discard any of them now, he would feel reluctant.
Let alone his mother, who gave birth to him, raised him, accompanied him, and taught him for so many years.
Zhang Chenyan could understand the alliance's reasoning. They had to think of humanity's overall development, but he couldn't abandon his mother.
If he couldn't change the rules, he had to adapt. But making significant contributions was no easy feat.
Lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, Zhang Chenyan's thoughts drifted far away. What was the current state of City R? What was 0810 doing? Had the research he asked the doctor to conduct yielded any results?
This was a private agreement between Zhang Chenyan and the doctor. The construction of City R had incorporated the doctor's ideas from the start. He needed a more ideal research space, as real-world factors and uncontrollable variables were too many, and research costs higher. So, the doctor hoped Zhang Chenyan could provide a high-efficiency research space.
Zhang Chenyan had done it, even exceeding expectations.
But research results don't come overnight. Most landmark findings come after countless failures. Zhang Chenyan understood this but couldn't help feeling anxious.
Normally, he would go directly to the doctor, even if there wasn't any substantial progress. Just chatting with the doctor and knowing things were still ongoing would calm him down.
But now he couldn't. The digital world was still studying his duplicate, and he had to take his break obediently, not seek trouble.
Zhang Chenyan wasn't a troublemaker. He wouldn't act out just because he was told not to do something. That was something characters in his mother's historical dramas did.
The next day, Zhang Chenyan had no plans. He stayed home obediently, accompanying Xie Han, giving him a rare glimpse into her work state.
Xie Han, with her delicate gold-rimmed glasses, flipped through thick books, occasionally writing with a brush. Xie Han's calligraphy was beautiful, with a unique elegance. Zhang Chenyan had tried to learn several times but ended up with scrawls.
Some say you can tell a person's temperament by their handwriting. Zhang Chenyan agreed with this for Xie Han, but not for himself. After all, he rarely used a pen.
He was used to machines, leading to a bad habit of forgetting how to write characters.
Unlike Zhang Chenyan, Xie Han not only wrote well but could sit and work for hours, barely taking breaks, rarely even drinking water, let alone the frequent bathroom or snack breaks Zhang Chenyan took.
Zhang Chenyan once asked Xie Han about the purpose and significance of recording with such methods. After all, there were better, more durable ways to record, like data entry and cloud storage.
Compared to fragile, moisture-sensitive paper, these methods were more convenient and efficient.
Xie Han didn't directly answer Zhang Chenyan's question. Instead, she said, "When you can sit down and write calmly, you'll understand."
This response was honest and hit home. For many young people today, it's not just about sitting down to write calmly; they can't even write from one to a thousand without errors.
Watching Xie Han busy with her work, Zhang Chenyan decided to surprise her. He sneaked into the kitchen to prepare a warm dinner but found himself struggling with the limited ingredients. He lacked his mother's skill to turn simple ingredients into a delicious meal.
Choosing between excellence and reliability, Zhang Chenyan opted for the latter. After all, with so many years of mother-son relationship, there was no need for pretense. Ruining the meal and wasting ingredients would be embarrassing.
Food wasn't cheap these days.
Ultimately, Zhang Chenyan made noodles for himself and his mother. Apart from basic seasonings, he only added eggs and two types of greens. The noodles looked plain, but as soon as they were done, Xie Han was drawn in by the aroma.
"I just finished and smelled the food," Xie Han said, coming to the kitchen. Seeing the noodles, she nodded approvingly. "It looks delicious. Serve it up; I'll wash my hands."
"Alright, I promise to serve you well today!" Zhang Chenyan replied with a smile.
"I've been serving you well for years," Xie Han said, patting Zhang Chenyan before heading to wash her hands.
As they sat down to eat, Xie Han suddenly asked, "Is there something you're hiding from me, being so nice all of a sudden?"
Caught off guard by the question, Zhang Chenyan tried to keep calm. He wouldn't admit it, confident Xie Han wouldn't find out. After all, he wasn't hiding anything unethical.
But then Xie Han took out a letter.