Zhang Chenyang had envisioned many possible things that Chen Yijing's parents might say to him in the end, but he never expected this. He didn't want to explain anything—partly because he found it unnecessary, and partly because he feared that he might lose control and say something inappropriate. In fact, he had been restraining himself from lashing out for quite a while.
After leaving the police station, Zhang Chenyang checked his messages and found one from 0810. According to her, everything concerning Chen Yijing had been thoroughly handled. If Zhang Chenyang wanted to see it, he could log into the digital world at any time or just open any news app in the physical world. When it comes to public shaming, she assured him that Chen Yijing's parents would endure far more than he ever did.
"Yes, there's no death penalty now. Although I've already sent them in, I still need to think about their future or their life inside," Zhang Chenyang said in a voice message before correcting himself, "Given the sentence, they probably won't ever get out, right?"
"Not having the death penalty isn't necessarily a good thing. The digital world has plenty of ways to make life feel like an eternity," 0810 replied, her voice unusually cold. "Mental torment can be far more painful than physical suffering."
As Zhang Chenyang was about to end the call, 0810 suddenly asked, "How is your brain-machine interface? Are you experiencing any discomfort?"
"It seems to be integrating well with my body; the rejection symptoms are minimal now," Zhang Chenyang said candidly. "If the recovery goes well, I'll have my first brain-machine test in a week."
"Good, I wish you the best," 0810's tone softened a bit.
But Zhang Chenyang didn't notice, responding simply with, "Thanks."
In the digital world, 0810 stood in her room, looking out at the bustling streets below, and slowly unclenched her tightly gripped right hand. She could have appeared before Zhang Chenyang as a hologram, but she chose not to because she feared she might lose control.
In fact, she had already lost control once, when she appeared at his bedside while he was unconscious, with an expression of panic on her face for the first time.
She touched the windowsill, feeling its coldness, and opened the window to let the cold wind blow past her. She waved at the AI below, who smiled back at her.
As a child, 0810 had been curious about what made the digital world different from the physical world. She had secretly visited the underground city, viewing it through a hologram.
Back then, she didn't notice much difference. If anything, she found the underground city less glamorous and less lively than the digital world. The digital world never slept; it was always buzzing with activity, unlike the quietness that descended on parts of the underground city at night.
AI doesn't need to sleep, and while they worked alongside humans during the day, the night was theirs. They could revel in solitude or join the human avatars who came to unwind, doing things humans couldn't even dream of.
0810 had once performed on Liu Xixi's stage, but that wasn't her first attempt. She had painted snowy mountains, waterfalls, and fields of shibazakura flowers—things she had never seen herself. They were based on videos, descriptions from others, and her own imagination.
She was a creation of data, a virtual entity, but she longed for reality.
0810 loved peace and quiet, but she had also secretly visited Z City. From a prime vantage point, she watched AI and human avatars dancing in the clubs, listening to the strong rhythms of the music, quietly observing alone.
She always viewed the world as a spectator. Even her parents would comment that she was too cold, too much like an AI. They had worked hard to nurture her to be as human as possible, but she seemed inherently aloof, rarely displaying extreme emotions.
She loved the people who had created her; she loved them deeply. But she couldn't express the kind of attachment that Zhang Chenyang showed toward Xie Han, the desperation to hold onto his mother even at the cost of his life.
She had known from a very young age that human life was finite. She had to accept that, had to prepare for the inevitable separation.
She would create beautiful flower fields for her parents, follow their instructions, and provide them comfort when needed—that was what 0810 could do and was willing to do.
"I have something to tell you…" 0810 stood at the door, practicing her tone, adjusting her expression. "It's not something particularly serious; I'm just a bit confused…"
After a moment, she shook her head. "No, that's too hesitant."
She cleared her throat and adopted a more detached tone: "I have some unclear feelings for someone and want to confirm them."
0810 nodded to herself, deciding that this was how she would start the conversation, even if it sounded a bit awkward. Finally, she opened her parents' chat window and, after making sure the ringing had woken them, appeared before them as a hologram.
Her parents were used to being woken up by such "midnight calls" from her, so they calmly got out of bed and looked at the hologram of their daughter.
"Yes, it's the face we designed, very pretty, very classy!"
"I have some unclear feelings for someone and want to confirm them," 0810 began.
"If you want to confirm, go find that person! What use is talking to us?" Her mother fired back immediately.
"Your mom has a bit of a temper when she wakes up. You'll have to get used to it," her father quickly added, trying to soothe the situation. "Come, tell Dad, what's going on?"
0810 nodded, instantly teleporting to her father's side and sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Don't teleport like that in the middle of the night! Don't float! Don't flash! Just walk over, okay?" her mother exploded.
"Okay." 0810 stood up, paused briefly, and then walked back to her original spot. After a moment, she walked back over and sat down beside her father.
This time, her mother was completely speechless. If her face could curse, it would be full of expletives.
"Just understand that your mother is going through menopause. Showing up suddenly like that is really not good for her nerves," her father continued to play peacemaker, gently steering the conversation back on track. "Now, tell us what's going on. You have unclear feelings for someone? Is it a man or a woman?"
"A man," 0810 replied firmly.
"A human?" her father asked, realizing the need to clarify. "I mean, a real person?"
In the digital world, AI and human avatars were often referred to simply as "people," which could sometimes cause confusion. But given the seriousness of the moment, her father needed to be sure.
"A real person," 0810 emphasized. "A real human, like you two."
Her parents exchanged glances, instantly understanding the situation.
Now fully awake, her mother's headache and irritation vanished.
"If you like him, just go for it!" her mother said enthusiastically. "You're beautiful, our family is well off—he has no reason to refuse. And if he doesn't know what's good for him, I'm pretty good at fighting, your dad's a lawyer, and you're a judge—we can handle him."
"We can handle it, we can handle it…" her father quickly interjected, pulling his eager wife back. "Let's focus on the issue at hand. The problem is she's trying to confirm her feelings, not taking the steps you're thinking about."
"What's there to confirm? You're standing by your parents' bed in the middle of the night. We're lying down, and you're standing—do you not realize how eerie this looks? If it's not love, then what is it?" her mother countered like a machine gun.
0810 nodded. "Then it's love."
Her father looked at his daughter, then at his wife, still puzzled by their form of communication. Was this really considered a conversation? Was this what people meant by mother-daughter telepathy?
After so many years, her father had gotten used to it. Though he didn't quite understand how they communicated, at least there was a conclusion. So, he continued to gently probe, "So, what's your plan?"
"What plan? Just go for it!" her mother urged. "You're asking all the wrong questions."
But 0810 shook her head. "I just wanted to confirm my feelings. It's not the right time to say anything, not yet."
"Why not? Is there something you're not telling us?" her father asked, his tone soft, not wanting to trigger any sensitive nerve in her.
0810 thought for a moment before answering, "He has a lot going on right now; it's not the right time for this. If I suddenly confess and it doesn't work out, we might not even be able to stay friends…"
"Why do you want to stay friends? Do you really need more friends?" her mother shot back with a pointed question.
"Yes, I do," 0810 replied straightforwardly.
This time, her mother was rendered speechless. She was a straightforward person with a quick temper, but also fiercely loyal. While she didn't have many close friends, the ones she did have were genuine. Her husband, 0810's father, was gentle, emotionally intelligent, and highly capable, making him well-liked and popular, even if not all his friends were equally close.
As for their daughter, 0810… Sometimes they wondered who she took after. Surely she didn't inherit her traits from the programmers who wrote her code?
0810 had never had many friends. In all these years, her parents had never seen her bring a single friend home, regardless of gender.
They had even taken 0810 to see a psychologist, even though they knew it was absurd to take an AI to therapy. But out of concern for their daughter, they did it anyway.
Even more absurd was the fact that the psychologist declared 0810 to be mentally healthy, with no issues at all—just more mature and intelligent than her peers.
At the time, her mother was furious, "I counted yesterday—she said fewer than ten words all day. And you call that mentally healthy? Check again; maybe it's autism or something. We need to catch it early and treat it."
The psychologist diplomatically replied, "I've never diagnosed an AI before. If you're not satisfied, maybe you should return her to the factory for maintenance or get a replacement?"
"Replace her with what? My daughter is perfect, why would we replace her?" her mother retorted, storming out, not forgetting to tell her husband, "Fine! We'll just treat it like autism! If our kid has autism, we need to love her more, care for her more, treat her like a queen."
"Treat her like a queen?" her husband initially didn't understand until it was explained to him—it meant treating the child like a precious, revered being.
As someone who had been married to her for over ten years, he couldn't always understand his wife, but that didn't stop him from loving her.
0810 clearly remembered that as they left the psychologist's office, the psychologist's expression seemed to say: You should stay. I think you have some issues too and should talk to someone about them. After all, early detection is key!
But over the years, her mother had continued to act as she pleased, with her condition clearly not under control. Like now…