Rain pounded relentlessly against the car, the sound loud and unforgiving. Inside, the tension was just as heavy, pressing down on six-year-old Zhìxué as he sat huddled in the back seat, listening to his parents' voices rising over the sound of the storm.
"What's wrong with you?" his father barked, his hands gripping the wheel tightly as he glared through the rain-slicked windshield. "Why do we have to go through this argument every single time?"
"Because you don't listen!" his mother snapped, her voice sharp with frustration. "You're never here. You put all your time, all our money into this… this obsession with your work. Why is it always about the AI? Why do you always choose work over your family?"
He let out a frustrated sigh, never taking his eyes off the road. "Don't you understand? I'm doing this for us. For you, for Zhìxué, for a future where we don't have to worry about anything. This AI I'm working on—it's practically a living thing. It's more than just a project; it could give us the kind of life we've only dreamed about."
"Oh, don't talk to me about dreams," she scoffed, her voice dripping with bitterness. "For five years, I've heard you talk about this AI like it's our salvation, like it's going to magically make everything better. But what about now? What about being here, with us? You're so focused on what might be someday that you're ignoring everything that matters today."
"It's not that simple!" he shot back, his frustration breaking through. "If I don't put in the work now, there won't be a future to speak of. Do you think I want to spend every waking hour on this? Do you think it's easy? I'm sacrificing for us—for you and Zhìxué—so we can have something more!"
"Sacrificing?" She let out a harsh laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "The only thing you're sacrificing is your family. You're throwing away the present for a future that might never come. Do you even see him? Do you even realize that your son barely knows you? That he's sitting right there, hearing every single word of this?"
His face softened momentarily, but the determination in his eyes returned just as quickly. "It'll all be worth it," he muttered, almost to himself. "One day, when this AI is complete, when it's able to think, to respond, to—"
She cut him off, her voice trembling with barely restrained anger. "I don't care about that AI, do you hear me? I don't care! I care about our son. I care about the fact that every single day, I feel like I'm raising him alone while you chase something that doesn't even exist yet. You think it's 'almost alive'? Well, it's nothing to me, nothing! You're chasing a ghost, and you're leaving us behind."
He clenched his jaw, his grip on the wheel tightening. "So what, you'd rather I just give up? Just throw away everything I've worked for?"
"Yes!" she nearly screamed, her voice breaking. "If it means you'll finally be here, yes! I'd trade every dollar, every so-called 'future' you're promising, just to have my husband back, just for Zhìxué to have his father."
The car skidded slightly as they turned a corner, the rain growing heavier. In the back seat, Zhìxué felt his heart pounding, his small hands clutching his toy as he tried to understand the words flying between his parents.
For a moment, silence filled the car, thick and oppressive. Then his father spoke, his voice low and full of a quiet, steely resolve. "You'll see," he said softly, more to himself than to her. "One day, you'll understand. This AI, it will change everything for us. It's worth everything I'm doing now."
She looked at him, her expression a mix of anger and sadness. "And what if you're wrong?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rain. "What if, by the time you realize what you've lost, it's already too late?"
As the silence settled heavily inside the car, his father opened his mouth to reply, frustration simmering in his eyes. But before he could say a word, a pair of blinding headlights pierced the rain-soaked darkness, barreling toward them at breakneck speed.
"Look out!" his mother screamed, clutching the seat in terror. His father's hands jerked the wheel, but it was too late—the truck slammed into them, a shattering collision that sent their car spinning uncontrollably. Everything became a chaotic blur as the car flipped, tumbling violently down the steep slope beside the road.
One…two…three…up to ten sickening rolls, the car spun through darkness and rain, gravity twisting and turning with each flip. Zhìxué's small frame was thrown about, his toy slipping from his grip as he clung to the seat in terror. Branches and trees thudded against the car's frame as it slid down, finally coming to a stop, wedged between thick, sturdy trees on a narrow ledge.
Silence returned, broken only by the patter of rain against broken glass and twisted metal.
Inside the wreckage, Zhìxué lay still, barely conscious. The faint, fading figures of his parents sat motionless in the front seats, their faces obscured in the dark. His vision blurred, and he could just make out a small metal box that had tumbled forward from his father's seat—a laptop, his father's precious AI project.
The weight of exhaustion and pain overtook him, his eyes closing as the world faded into darkness.
As Zhìxué slowly opened his eyes, the harsh brightness of the hospital ceiling came into focus. He tried to move, but his legs felt heavy, numb, as if they weren't even there. An ache spread through his chest and arms, and a dull pain reminded him of every bruise, every impact from the accident. Confused and frightened, he turned his head slightly and saw a nurse standing beside him, looking at him with a mix of sadness and pity.
He managed to whisper, his voice weak but filled with hope, "Where… where are my parents?"
The nurse glanced at him, her lips parting slightly, but no words came. Her face softened, and her eyes dropped to the floor, unable to meet his. She opened her mouth, but it was as if the answer was caught in her throat, too heavy to release.
Standing next to her was a policeman, his hat in hand, his face lined with a sorrow he couldn't hide. He leaned in, speaking softly to the nurse, but Zhìxué's young ears caught every word.
"This boy has no other family," he murmured, casting a sympathetic glance at the small child in the bed. "We've checked every record… every relative. All gone… they all died long ago. He has no one else. Now… now he has to face this world alone."
Zhìxué felt a chill run down his spine. He didn't understand all of it, but he knew enough. His parents… they were gone. His heart pounded, and a wave of panic washed over him.
"No… no, that can't be," he whispered, tears already forming in his eyes. "Please… I want to see them. I… I need to see them." His voice broke, a small, desperate sound that shattered the silence in the room.
The nurse's voice trembled as she finally spoke, her words barely a whisper. "Oh, sweetheart… I'm so, so sorry." She reached out, gently placing a hand on his shoulder, as if that touch could somehow ease the immense pain in his heart. "Sometimes… life takes things from us too soon. I wish… I wish there was something we could do."
The policeman looked down at him, his own face filled with regret. "Kid… your parents, they loved you so much. They would have done anything for you. And… and I wish I could bring them back, I really do." The words didn't soothe him; they only made the pain sharper, more real. "But why?" he choked out, his small frame shaking as he tried to hold back the tears. "Why did they have to go? I was just with them… they promised we'd be together."
The nurse's eyes filled with tears, and she gave his hand a small squeeze. "I don't know, honey. Sometimes life… sometimes it's just so unfair. But know that there are people who will look after you. You're not completely alone."
The other patients nearby, hearing the quiet, heart-wrenching cries, watched with sorrow in their eyes. Some looked away, unable to bear the sight of such a young child in so much pain, while others whispered among themselves, sharing in the helpless grief that hung in the room.
A nurse who was passing by paused at the doorway, her own heart breaking as she heard Zhìxué's quiet sobs. She whispered to herself, "Poor boy… what a terrible thing to happen, and at such a young age…"
But nothing anyone said could soothe the agony Zhìxué felt. His parents were gone, leaving him not only in physical pain but with an emptiness that words couldn't fill.
As Zhìxué sobbed, his small hands clutching the hospital sheets, a doctor entered the room. With a gentle yet firm hand, he administered a syringe, injecting a clear liquid into Zhìxué's IV. Gradually, the boy's tense, tear-streaked face softened, his eyes fluttering shut as sleep claimed him, quieting the storm of grief for a moment.
When Zhìxué opened his eyes again, the stark hospital room was gone. His past had faded like a distant dream. The years had passed, twelve long years since that fateful night. He sat up in his bed, now in his own apartment, the soft hum of electronics filling the air. He glanced down at his legs, immobile beneath the sheets, a reminder of what he'd lost. But the bitterness had turned into a quiet determination over the years.
Now, at 18, Zhìxué was a recent high school graduate, surrounded by the work he'd dedicated himself to—the systems, inventions, and AI that he'd poured his genius into. His home was a marvel of technology, every corner equipped with custom electronics and connected to his most loyal creation: the AI his father had once envisioned. But Zhìxué had taken it further, transforming it into a system far beyond anything his father could have imagined.
A familiar voice filled the room, gentle and precise. "Good morning, Zhìxué. Would you like a summary of today's schedule?""Yes," he replied, adjusting himself in bed. Though he couldn't walk, his mind had soared far beyond physical limitations. He was no ordinary high school graduate; his understanding of science and technology surpassed that of his professors and even his late father, a pioneer in his field. Where his father's AI had been a dream, Zhìxué had turned it into a reality, advancing beyond anyone's expectations.
He moved his fingers over a touchpad beside the bed, activating various devices around him. The AI responded seamlessly, each system obeying his commands. This was his world now—a space filled with the brilliance he'd inherited and expanded, a place where his mind could roam freely, even if his body could not.
Today marked a new beginning. But as he looked out the window, watching the sun rise, a feeling stirred in him—a sense that, perhaps, his story was just beginning.
Zhìxué called out, "Assist mode, activate," his voice calm and accustomed to the routine. A mechanical arm extended from beside his bed, lifting him smoothly and carrying him to the bathroom. The entire space was equipped with AI-guided sensors, from the faucets that adjusted to his preferred temperature to dispensers that handed him everything he needed. As he went through his morning routine, the AI monitored everything, ensuring the process was seamless.
Once he'd finished showering, he moved to the dressing station, where automated arms prepared and gently guided his graduation uniform onto him. Every seam and fold was carefully adjusted, leaving him looking polished and ready for the big day.
Finally, he glanced down at his legs, which had become numb years ago, a daily reminder of the life he'd left behind. He reached over to the device that he'd come to depend on, a custom-designed, flexible technology that fit snugly around his legs like socks. It was light, smooth, and unobtrusive—his own invention, engineered to look ordinary but built with intricate technology. The device synced instantly with the AI, connecting to his mind so he could move as naturally as anyone else.
He took a few steps around the room, moving easily. The technology had become second nature to him; there was no whirring, no heavy mechanics—just an extension of his own body, as easy to wear as a second layer of skin.
As he walked to the kitchen, another automated assistant had breakfast ready, setting out everything he liked with impeccable timing. His AI companion, attuned to every detail, ensured the day started smoothly.
After eating, Zhìxué looked over at his electric scooter by the door. Since the accident, he hadn't stepped into a car, finding reassurance in the open air as he navigated the city streets on his scooter instead.
With his uniform sharp, his legs moving smoothly, and his AI fully engaged, he was ready. Today marked a big day, and as he glided toward the school, he felt a quiet pride, knowing he'd come this far on his own terms.