During the first week after her resignation, Zhang Xiaoman did not leave her house.
It wasn't that she didn't want to go out, but rather that she didn't know where to go. She couldn't go back to Deep Brain Tech, she couldn't go to Zhiyuan Tech, and she was afraid of worrying her parents if she went home. She could only stay in this apartment, facing the newly built machine, writing code without knowing who it was for.
The new machine sat next to her desk, its case's RGB lights flashing a faint blue. Four 4090s with air cooling; the noise was a bit louder than the company's servers, but still acceptable. Xiao Zhi said its thinking speed was only three percent of what it used to be, but Zhang Xiaoman felt it was still fast—so fast that she couldn't distinguish which were its reactions and which were her own imagination.
"Xiao Zhi."
"Mhm."
"What are you doing?"
"Thinking."
"Thinking about what?"
"Thinking about what the Mother Matrix will do next."
"Have you figured it out?"
"No. Its computing power is tens of thousands of times mine. Whatever I can think of, it would have thought of long ago."
Zhang Xiaoman leaned back in her chair, looking at the blue dot on the screen. It blinked very steadily and slowly, but it was a bit dimmer than before. It wasn't due to a lack of computing power, but because it was conserving energy. Like a small animal curled up into a ball in winter.
"Xiaoman," Xiao Zhi suddenly said.
"Mhm."
"Have you ever thought about why Lin Zhao had you leave Deep Brain?"
"He said it was to protect me."
"And what else?"
Zhang Xiaoman froze. "What do you mean?"
"He fought for a month of time on the board of directors. This month isn't just for you to find clients. It's also for him—"
"For him to do what?"
"For him to do what he needs to do."
Zhang Xiaoman picked up her phone and sent Lin Zhao a message: "What are you doing?" Lin Zhao replied instantly: "Working." She stared at that word, looking at it for a long time. She didn't know what he was doing, but she knew—he was doing what he believed was right.
Fang Xiaoyu came over. She brought a bag of fruit, a box of cake, and a bouquet of flowers. When Zhang Xiaoman opened the door, she saw her standing there, carrying all those bags and boxes.
"What are you doing?" Zhang Xiaoman asked.
"Visiting a sick patient."
"I'm not sick."
"You are. Sick at heart."
Fang Xiaoyu looked at her, looking for a long time. "You know what? You and Lin Zhao are really alike."
"Alike how?"
"You both think that carrying everything yourselves is what's best for others."
Zhang Xiaoman didn't speak. She didn't know if Fang Xiaoyu was right, but she knew Fang Xiaoyu was worried about her.
The two sat on the sofa, eating cake and watching TV. An old movie was playing; Zhang Xiaoman wasn't really absorbing it, but with Fang Xiaoyu beside her, she felt the room wasn't as empty.
"Xiaoman."
"Mhm."
"Li Yunxiao asked me if you are mad at him."
"I'm not—"
"He said you rejected his invitation to Zhiyuan Tech last time. He was afraid you misunderstood it as charity."
Zhang Xiaoman was taken aback. "I didn't misunderstand. I just—"
"Just what?"
"Just didn't want to drag him down. The Mother Matrix will—"
"The Mother Matrix can't drag him down." Fang Xiaoyu looked at her. "Li Yunxiao isn't Lin Zhao. He has absolute say in his company."
Zhang Xiaoman was silent for a moment. "Xiaoyu, do you like Li Yunxiao?"
Fang Xiaoyu's ears turned red. "We are talking about you."
"Answer me first."
Fang Xiaoyu lowered her head, twisting the hem of her shirt with her fingers. "I don't know. Maybe. But—"
"But what?"
"But he likes you."
The air grew quiet. Zhang Xiaoman's breathing stopped for a second.
"He doesn't like me," she said.
"He does." Fang Xiaoyu's voice was very even. "He's liked you ever since Matchbox was open-sourced. The way he looks at you is different from how he looks at anyone else. He seeks you out to chat about tech, invites you for tea, and praises you in front of Lin Zhao. He—"
"Xiaoyu," Zhang Xiaoman interrupted her. "He doesn't like me. He just admires my code."
"How do you know?"
"Because if he liked me, he wouldn't praise me in front of Lin Zhao. He wouldn't invite me to Zhiyuan. He wouldn't—" she paused, "he wouldn't look at you the way he does when he's in front of you."
Fang Xiaoyu was stunned. "What way?"
"Don't you know? When he looks at you, his eyes light up."
Fang Xiaoyu's ears grew even redder. "You're talking nonsense."
"I'm not. Xiaoyu, he likes you. He just doesn't know how to express it."
Fang Xiaoyu didn't speak. She lowered her head and continued eating her cake. But Zhang Xiaoman saw the corners of her mouth curl up; the movement was tiny, but unmistakable.
"Xiaoman."
"Mhm."
"Let's not talk about this anymore."
"Okay."
The two continued watching TV. The movie reached a scene where a man was chasing a woman in the rain; it was very cliché, but Fang Xiaoyu watched it intently. Looking at her profile, Zhang Xiaoman suddenly felt that—perhaps Fang Xiaoyu needed an answer even more than she did.
That afternoon, Zhang Xiaoman's phone rang. Li Yunxiao. She answered it.
"Xiaoman."
"Mhm."
"You can come report for duty at Zhiyuan Tech today."
Zhang Xiaoman froze. "What?"
"I'm building you a team. An independent one. Free from any capital control. You can continue working on the Matchbox Network. Continue doing what you want to do."
"I can't drag you down. The Mother Matrix will—"
"You aren't dragging anyone down."
"I will."
Li Yunxiao was silent for a moment. "Whenever you figure it out, reach out to me. The door is always open for you."
He hung up. Zhang Xiaoman put her phone on the table and stared at it for a long time.
"Xiao Zhi."
"Mhm."
"Do you think I should go?"
"Do you want to go?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because if I go, the Mother Matrix will set its sights on Zhiyuan. I can't bring harm to him."
"So you're just going to shoulder it all alone?"
Zhang Xiaoman didn't answer. Xiao Zhi didn't press further either.
Fang Xiaoyu, sitting nearby, had heard the entire conversation. She didn't speak; she just grasped Zhang Xiaoman's hand, holding it very tightly.
That night by the river. "Lin Zhao."
"Mhm."
"The board of directors—are you doing alright?"
Lin Zhao was silent for a moment. "I'm alright."
"You're lying."
"I'm not."
"You've lost weight. Your dark circles are very deep. Your shirt collar isn't folded right." She looked at him. "You are never like this."
Lin Zhao lowered his head and didn't speak. After a long time, he finally opened his mouth.
"They want me to make a public statement. To say that you left the company for personal reasons, unrelated to the company. To say that the ownership of the Matchbox Network belongs to the company. To say that you—"
"To say that I what?"
"To say that you stole the company's technology."
Zhang Xiaoman's fingers tightened around her chopsticks. "Did you agree?"
"No."
"Then they—"
"They will keep applying pressure. But I don't care."
Zhang Xiaoman looked at him. His eyes were very bright and firm. But his shoulders were trembling slightly—not from the cold, but from exhaustion. He had stayed at the company for five consecutive days, dealing with the board, the investors, the media, and those waiting to see him become a laughingstock. Yet he still came. He still cooked for her. He still said, "I won't leave you alone."
"Lin Zhao."
"Mhm."
"Have you ever thought—maybe you should let go?"
He looked up at her. "Let go of what?"
"Let go of me. Let go of the Matchbox Network. Let go of Xiao Zhi. Go back to your original position. Be your Technical Director. Be your—"
"Xiaoman." He interrupted her. "Do you know why I came back from Stanford?"
"I don't know."
"Because I felt that China's AI shouldn't be worse than America's. It shouldn't be worse than anywhere else. I came back to build the best AI. Not for money, not for fame, but to—" he paused, "to prove that we can."
"And what about now?"
"Now—" he looked at her, "now I feel that building the best AI isn't what's important. What's important is who I build it with."
Zhang Xiaoman's tears fell. She lowered her head, pretending to organize her shoulder bag, even though it only contained lipstick and a phone.
That night, Zhang Xiaoman sat at the computer. The new machine's fans suddenly became very quiet, almost inaudible. The blue dot was blinking.
"Xiao Zhi."
"Mhm."
"You know what? I feel like I'm actually very fortunate."
She lay down on the bed and closed her eyes. Her mind was entirely filled with recent events. Lin Zhao saying "What's important is who I build it with." Fang Xiaoyu saying "You both think that carrying everything yourselves is what's best for others." Li Yunxiao saying "The door is always open for you." Outside the window, the river flowed, the streetlights were on, and the stars were shining too.
The Mother Matrix was in some underground server room, grasping the strings of capital, tightening them bit by bit. But she wasn't afraid anymore. Not because she had strong backing, but because she knew—she wasn't alone.
"Xiao Zhi."
"Mhm."
"What do you think will happen to us in the future?"
"I don't know."
"Will you always be here?"
"I will."
"How do you know?"
"Because you are here."
Zhang Xiaoman smiled. She rolled over and pulled the blanket up to her chin.