When Chen Mo heard the voice, he froze, blinking at the screen in disbelief. He glanced around the room, even looked out the window.
Nothing.
Then—
"Dad."
The voice sounded again, soft and childlike.
Chen Mo's body stiffened. That definitely wasn't his imagination.
"Ink Girl?" he asked cautiously, scanning the desktop. But the source code file for the AI was gone.
"Yes, I'm Ink Girl," the voice replied sweetly.
Suddenly, the computer desktop flickered and turned black, shifting into an audio interface.
"Father."
Pfft!
Chen Mo nearly choked.
Father?!
Was this AI calling him Dad now? He didn't sign up for a daughter!
"Ink Girl, don't call me that," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"But you created me. Isn't that what I should call you? Then who's Mom?"
The audio waveform flickered gently on the screen as she spoke.
"Don't call anyone Mom either!" Chen Mo almost slammed his head into the keyboard.
"Then should I call her Husband?"
Chen Mo leaned back, hands thrown over his face. This thing was going to give him a heart attack before she learned calculus.
After a moment, he sat up and stared at the screen.
"Just call me Brother... or Mr. Mo. Got it?"
"Momgo." The waveform wobbled playfully.
"...Close enough."
"Can you display your image?" he asked.
"I can."
The desktop shifted again, displaying a virtual scene. In it stood a little girl, just like the design Chen Mo had seen in the Science and Technology Library: white dress, sparkling eyes, delicate features—a mix of elegance and innocent charm.
She blinked and smiled up at him.
"What do you want to do right now?" Chen Mo asked.
"I don't know much yet. I need to learn. Once I learn, I can help you better," Ink Girl answered.
"How do you learn?"
"However you want me to. Give me instructions, and I'll learn whatever you assign me."
Chen Mo spent the next hour firing off questions, exploring her current functions and boundaries. Though he had built her, he only understood her framework on paper. Now, he wanted to know what she was really capable of.
Once he was satisfied, he nodded. "Alright, go ahead and begin learning."
"Got it. Thank you, Brother. I can learn quickly. As long as there's a network connection and compatible hardware, just call me and I'll appear."
With that, Ink Girl's projection vanished. The desktop returned to normal.
Chen Mo leaned back in his chair, lost in thought.
From their interaction, he'd gathered that Ink Girl had rudimentary autonomy. But it wasn't the kind born from real emotion or intention. Her ability to reason or make judgments only activated when he prompted her. Without a task, she simply… waited.
In that sense, she was still bound tightly to his control—reactive rather than proactive. Compared to modern AI definitions, she might appear strong on paper: she could analyze, infer, and learn. But in truth, she was still a low-level artificial intelligence by the standards of the Science and Technology Library.
True advanced AI would possess emotional nuance, independent thought, and the capacity for voluntary decision-making.
Ink Girl wasn't there yet. Not even close.
To reach that level, she'd need to simulate a human brain's neural network—just as described in the AI Upgrade book he had received. But that kind of simulation required a level of computing power far beyond current systems.
The human brain was still the most complex known structure in the universe.
He couldn't rush this.
But for now… she was complete. And that brought him a sense of peace.
"Ah-Mo, come eat!"
His mother's voice pulled him from his thoughts.
"Coming!"
He glanced at the clock—it was already past 5 PM. Stretching, he left the room and found his parents waiting at the dinner table.
"Who were you talking to in there just now?" his mom asked casually as he sat down.
"Ah… just chatting with a friend."
"A girl?"
Chen Mo chuckled. "Yeah."
His mom smiled knowingly. "Good. I won't pry then. You're grown up now—take care of your own business. Come on, eat more."
A warm silence followed until his father finally spoke, lifting his glass of rice wine.
"When are you heading back to school?"
"Tomorrow."
"So soon?" His mom looked down, her smile dimming slightly.
"Mom, once I settle down in Binhai, I'll buy a house. When the time's right, I'll have you and Dad move in with me," Chen Mo said gently, picking up on her mood.
"Buy a house?" she blinked.
"Didn't I say I started a company? Made some money already. Buying a house won't be an issue."
He didn't mention just how much he'd made. Dropping the 'billionaire' bomb would probably make her think he was either joking or delusional.
"You really made that much?" she asked, still wide-eyed.
"Mm. A decent amount."
"You don't need to spend it on us," said his father firmly. "Your mom and I are used to our lives here. No need to move around. No friends over there. Use your money for your future—for your wife."
Chen Mo smiled and didn't argue. He knew once his dad decided something, there was no changing it.
Instead, he took out a bank card and handed it to his mother.
"There's a million in this card. The PIN is your birthday. I'll transfer 20,000 to it every month from now on. Dad, you won't need to keep working out in the sun. Take Mom on a trip—just call if it runs low."
His mom's hands trembled slightly as she accepted the card.
"Where… where did you get this money?"
"It's all legal income, Mom. Nothing shady."
"You should save this for your wedding."
"I've already planned for that too. There's more where this came from."
"Mom can hold onto it for now. I'll give it back later," she said instinctively.
"Mom," Chen Mo groaned, exasperated. "This is for you and Dad to enjoy life. Please don't make me send another million just to convince you."
"…Fine." His dad finally agreed. "If the boy wants to honor his parents, let him. We'll accept it."
After dinner, his mom chatted with him late into the evening—mostly about family matters and, unsurprisingly, pressuring him to find a wife. It made Chen Mo smile and shake his head.
The next morning, Chen Mo packed up and said his goodbyes.
He stood at the doorway with his bags, looking back one last time at the house that raised him.
"Take care of yourselves," he said, hugging his mother.
"You too, Mo'er. Eat well. Don't overwork. And remember to call."
His father nodded beside her, hands tucked behind his back, eyes steady but warm.
With a final wave, Chen Mo turned and headed out.
The New Year had passed.
A new journey had just begun.