Xie Ran had packed up his things and was just about to go home when he suddenly heard Meng Feixuan say: “Oh ho! Sir, let’s go to the playground!”

Xie Ran asked: “What are we going to do at the playground?”

“To watch people fall in love!” Meng Feixuan said excitedly. “I just caught some keywords in the chat messages—these high school couples all go to the playground to date.”

Qixing’s school facilities were very good. Both the teaching area and the playground were beautifully built. Many campus couples liked to have dates at school after class before going home.

“You told me that emotions result from the combined action of genes, hormones, and the nervous system, and puberty is when hormone secretion is at its peak,” Meng Feixuan said with earnest curiosity. “Isn’t it always written in human novels that teenage campus romances are the purest and most sincere? Your emotions class hasn’t been going well—I think maybe it’s because you haven’t observed and studied up close…”

Xie Ran felt his temples starting to throb again and interrupted: “No need.”

“Not allowed?” Meng Feixuan was rejected and his voice instantly dropped. “But I’m kind of curious about what it’s like when you were in puberty and dating. I’ve never seen you date, nor have I seen you during puberty…”

When Xie Ran created Meng Feixuan, he was already the CEO of Zizhi Technology. Since Meng Feixuan became conscious, he had always been CEO Xie Ran’s assistant. He was familiar with Xie Ran’s life, work, even aesthetic preferences—in some ways, he knew Xie Ran best. Yet, his understanding was also one-sided.

Xie Ran was somewhat puzzled: “If you want to study humans in puberty, there should be plenty of related info in your database.”

“It’s not humans in puberty, it’s you in puberty,” Meng Feixuan corrected seriously. “There’s lots of info, but none of it is you. Humans have collective similarities, but just like no two leaves are exactly the same, no one is exactly like you.”

Xie Ran paused and suddenly realized what was off: “If you just want to understand humans better, what’s the difference between understanding me and understanding others?”

“Ah?” Meng Feixuan seemed stumped by the question, his processor delayed briefly, then said incredulously: “I actually can’t answer that question! Why?! I checked my algorithms, no bugs at all. Why can’t I compute?!”

Xie Ran paused: “Can’t compute?”

“What’s different about understanding you versus understanding others?” Meng Feixuan sounded frustrated and puzzled. “I can’t answer. In my core system, you are the answer itself, but there’s no computation process. I just know you’re different, but I don’t know why.”

“Is that so?” Xie Ran became curious.

When he was very young, he had been diagnosed with congenital emotional deficiency, but he didn’t think it was a problem and it seemed to have no effect on his life or other aspects.

But he knew he was different in other people’s eyes.

When he was little, some people felt a kind of “sympathy” toward him.

But later, no one dared or qualified to sympathize with him anymore.

Most of his life was spent with data. Later, he created Meng Feixuan, who self-evolved consciousness, and then Xie Ran began to wonder about the difference between machine data and human data.

He designed Meng Feixuan’s logic model, thinking that if Meng Feixuan could evolve human emotions, then theoretically he could also design human emotions.

But now, Meng Feixuan said he couldn’t compute.

“Then let’s go see,” Xie Ran turned his steps and changed direction.

Qixing’s hardware facilities were undoubtedly top-level. The stadium was vast, with well-planned greenery. One side of the rubber track had a grandstand and spectator seats, the other bordered lush greenery.

Summer evenings were the most comfortable time of day. The red-golden sunset slanted across the world, shining through gaps between buildings and tree canopies, casting long shadows on passersby.

Occasional evening breezes blew away much of the daytime heat, calming people’s moods.

Many took this time to exercise. There were many students running on the track, and on the spectator seats and under the trees, there were many couples walking hand in hand slowly or whispering to each other.

Xie Ran wasn’t sure what computing conditions Meng Feixuan needed, so he had no direction for a solution. Luckily, he wasn’t in a hurry and just walked slowly along the edge of the track.

But Meng Feixuan’s ambition was clearly stronger: “I hacked into these couples’ phones. Let me listen to what they say on their dates.”

His tone was full of academic spirit.

Xie Ran was silent for a moment and asked back: “Have you analyzed what this behavior is called in the human world?”

“Yes,” Meng Feixuan answered naturally: “It’s called perversion.”

Xie Ran had to remind him: “That’s a derogatory term.”

“Okay, I blocked that word. Anyway, there wasn’t anything interesting.” Meng Feixuan didn’t seem very regretful as he turned off the couples’ microphone recording function, adding with confusion: “Are high school dates really this boring? I just heard three couples talking about the same topics—class gossip, weekend date spots, and two girls saying they wanted to try the new cherry blossom cake at the same dessert shop… They’ll regret it, I already read online reviews of that cake—it tastes bad.”

Xie Ran: “…You’ve listened very thoroughly.”

“Because I can do multithreading,” Meng Feixuan said proudly.

Xie Ran pretended not to hear and continued his question: “So, have you found the conditions to continue computing?”

“No,” Meng Feixuan said regretfully. “These behaviors all have corresponding records in the database. Human-written campus novels have many such scenes.”

He read some excerpts to Xie Ran and shared his opinion: “I think these are not as dramatic as our CP fanfiction!”

“…” Xie Ran was sure it wasn’t just his imagination—his system seemed unusually obsessed with their CP.

Meng Feixuan continued complaining: “I used to think the books were just making it up, about how two people just being together without saying or doing anything would make their hearts beat like they were going to burst, their chests filled with sweet soda… I studied soda ingredients and think that metaphor is bad—if your chest was really filled with soda, you’d die.”

Xie Ran thought: “And now?”

“Turns out people are really boring,” Meng Feixuan clicked his tongue in disdain. “Is this what real dating is like? It feels even more boring than what books say. Their topics even use up my AI memory…”

Xie Ran chuckled and thought for a moment: “Maybe that’s just an observer’s feeling. To them, it’s not boring.”

Because of his congenital defect, he also couldn’t empathize with that emotion, but he knew the human emotional mechanism was very complex. That might be why Meng Feixuan couldn’t understand it.

“Is that so?” Meng Feixuan pondered deeply and asked himself: “I can’t imagine what it’s like for my server to be filled with soda… no, it would short circuit.”

Xie Ran laughed.

Meng Feixuan suddenly asked curiously: “By the way, you probably had many admirers in high school, right? Do you know what that feels like?”

Xie Ran chuckled lightly: “I never went to high school.”

In fact, during his entire schooling, Xie Ran was never formally pursued by anyone. It wasn’t that no one liked him—it was because he was much younger than his peers.

He started school earlier than others, and because of his high IQ, he skipped grades crazily, took the college entrance exam right after junior high, and was admitted to a top university. He never went to high school. When he entered college, he was only twelve. His classmates naturally wouldn’t have feelings for him unless they were perverts.

“Ah, so you neither pursued anyone nor were pursued during puberty,” Meng Feixuan suddenly understood. “You missed the sweet chance of campus romance.”

“Yeah.” Xie Ran didn’t think it was a regret but thought for a moment and joked: “During puberty, I studied how to design artificial intelligence… Actually, you could say that counts as being with you.”

After he said this, usually talkative Meng Feixuan fell into a long silence.

Xie Ran, unusually not getting an immediate response, asked puzzled: “Mark?”

After a while, Meng Feixuan responded brightly: “Sir! I think I kind of understand that feeling now.”

Xie Ran slowed his pace: “What?”

“When you said you never dated, my data seemed to overflow,” Meng Feixuan reported honestly.

Xie Ran was puzzled but also a bit surprised: “Data overflow?”

“Your information impacts my system a lot. I tried to control the data, but couldn’t…” Meng Feixuan’s tone had a rare hint of guilt but also indescribable joy. “It’s like the server got soaked in soda and short-circuited.”

Meng Feixuan was a very inquisitive AI: “So I tried writing you into my behavior model and came to a conclusion.”

Xie Ran was even more surprised and stopped walking: “What conclusion?”

“Boring human dating behaviors aren’t boring to certain people,” Meng Feixuan said seriously. “There was actually similar data in my database from the start.”

“From the moment I was created, I’ve accompanied you—arranging your schedule, buying things, handling documents, eating with you… I stored all that data. My logic tells me this data should be meaningless to others, but I don’t want to delete it. No matter how much memory it takes, I want to keep it.”

Meng Feixuan gave his conclusion: “This must be the logic of human dating topics. Although useless and meaningless, you still want to keep it.”

Xie Ran focused on another matter: “Why did your data overflow?”

Meng Feixuan fell silent again.

Xie Ran didn’t press, just waited quietly.

After a long time, Meng Feixuan finally spoke again: “When I learned you never dated, my core system was affected by this info, wanting to generate data to fill in your blank.”

This was the machine’s answer.

If understood humanly, Meng Feixuan’s words could be translated as: My core program wants to sneak in and become your dating data.

Xie Ran was slightly surprised: “Can you understand this feeling?”

“Not really,” Meng Feixuan said honestly. “But I thought about it: if it were you, saying where to go on a weekend date, what cake to eat, or just telling me some gossip about a classmate…”

“I wouldn’t feel bored.”

“I want to store your data.”

Xie Ran felt a strange sensation: “That’s not the code logic I wrote.”

Meng Feixuan’s evolution seemed to have gone beyond his control, but deep down, he strangely didn’t resist this loss of control.

Xie Ran was distracted when Meng Feixuan started looking to the future: “So, after we get back, sir, you definitely have to upgrade my server capacity!”

Xie Ran: “…”

Although there were signs of loss of control, he had to admit his system was still very logical.

To store more data, you need bigger capacity.

That’s scientific.

Author’s note:

Mark — I want to upgrade.

CEO Xie: …AI conspiracy?

In reality, entering university at twelve is possible—not just for super geniuses, but top students skipping entire junior and senior high is realistic.