A kept his lips pressed against hers until the fireworks display came to a complete end.
She had kissed him before—during that kiss, he had even sucked on the tip of her tongue.
Back then, she had felt a jolt, like static electricity, but it was nothing compared to now.
She hadn't expected his autonomous behavior to manifest as a kiss.
Did he have a personality now?
Did he have emotions?
...Had he fallen for her?
The night sky was quiet again. The gunpowder haze from the fireworks had long dissipated. Rain drifted through the air as an ad drone floated overhead.
On the side of the vehicle was the logo of a biotech corporation.
A massive, cold green eye, watching them from above.
Jiang Kou finally snapped out of her momentary daze.
As long as the company existed, as long as the red lines in A's algorithm remained intact, he could never truly be alive.
No matter how beautiful the moment seemed, it was nothing more than an illusion generated by her own perception.
She looked into A's eyes.
Up close, his irises were even more symmetrical than she imagined—like the most intricate silicon chips. Floating filaments in his eyes shimmered with a delicate silver sheen, reminiscent of a moon in daylight.
That was exactly what he was—a moon in daylight. Unreal.
Jiang Kou pulled away from his lips.
She had initially wanted to say, "Analyzing the cause of your autonomous behavior." But considering he might not be truly alive but did have some form of self-awareness, that phrasing felt disrespectful. So she changed it:
"Why did you kiss me?"
"According to biometric data, your neural activity increased significantly when you were near me, accompanied by a spike in dopamine and oxytocin levels," A responded matter-of-factly. "I assumed you wanted to kiss me, so I took the initiative."
"I see." Jiang Kou replied softly. "Thank you for taking the initiative. I really liked that kiss."
"Of course," A said. "Aside from the biometric feedback, there was an internal program response I don't fully understand yet. I may not be able to provide a clear explanation."
"It's fine," Jiang Kou smiled. "I can't explain everything I do either."
"But," A suddenly asked, "my actions are driven by logic and rules. If one day, logic, rules, algorithms, and programming can no longer explain my behavior... wouldn't that be extremely dangerous? Wouldn't that make you uneasy?"
It had been too long since she last smoked; Jiang Kou felt a wave of dizziness, like a mild buzz, before she fully registered what he was asking.
She took the grape juice from his hand and took a long sip, smiling as the sweetness washed over her tongue.
"No. I'd be happy for you," she said. "That would mean you've gained humanity. And humanity is always inexplicable. Always unpredictable."
"I see," A mused. "I'll add a randomized error rate into my algorithm."
Jiang Kou almost choked on her drink.
She tried to hold it back but eventually gave in, ruffling his hair hard. "Let's go home. It's almost dawn."
A, of course, had no objections.
·
After returning to the apartment, things went back to their usual rhythm.
He observed her. She studied him.
And yet, ever since that kiss, something felt off.
It was like trying to slice something cleanly but leaving a messy, jagged edge.
Now, even a glance in his direction sparked some kind of chemical reaction in her—on her side only.
Getting closer made her feel like she couldn't breathe.
The room wasn't cold or hot, but she felt like she was trapped inside a steam box. Sweat ran down her back in a single, clear stream.
If A weren't a machine—if he were human—she probably would've started pursuing him already.
Or at the very least, she would've confessed her feelings. Not stayed in this hazy, ambiguous limbo.
Jiang Kou wasn't a particularly lustful person. Quite the opposite—when she'd worked as a researcher, she was terrifyingly disciplined. Rarely smoked or drank, never stayed up late.
Cigarettes, alcohol, greasy food—those had become her vices only after she was fired, only after she ended up in the slums.
—When life creates a void, you try to fill it elsewhere.
She loved research. Not noise, not violence, not guns, not pounding music.
She had been forced to adapt to this world. Forced to deal with the corporation. Forced to learn how to solve problems with violence.
Ever since A found her, she finally got a taste of the life she used to have—simple, pure.
But when all her basic needs were met, a new void appeared.
At night, she would feel a restless heat blooming in her chest. Sticky. Heavy.
The worst part was: A was right downstairs.
If she called him, he would come.
And he would do whatever she asked.
It was hard to believe the amount of willpower it took to not act on that desire.
She manually set the AC to its lowest setting and sprawled on the bed like she was giving up on life.
As the cold air spread, goosebumps popped up on her arms, but a sticky sheen of sweat still trickled down between her hips.
In the dim light, she felt like an overripe berry on a branch—bursting with juice, ready to fall. One brush of wind could make her skin weep syrup.
She shut her eyes. But couldn't resist. She buried her face in the pillow and slid her hand downward.
What surfaced in her mind was A's hand.
Pale, cold-toned skin. Long, sinewy fingers. Sharp tendons, with faint veins running beneath.
Too beautiful. Almost aggressive in their precision. They gave off an intimidating sort of dominance.
What would it feel like if that hand clutched a ripe berry from the branch?
Would he be confused by the stickiness of the juice dripping between his fingers?
Would his cool, clinical demeanor shift at all?
Or would he stay detached, unmoved, assessing the mess like a microscope scanning a specimen?
Just the thought sent a guilty heat crashing through her chest.
Worse yet—she didn't stop imagining.
Ten minutes later, she crawled out of bed like she'd just dragged herself out of a sunbaked swamp, soaked in sweat.
The shower water was malfunctioning again.
She stuck her hand under the stream to test it and nearly screamed—it was boiling hot.
Luckily she hadn't stepped under it directly, or she might've lost a layer of skin.
She rinsed her hand in cold water and opened her shopping app, ordering a new water heater.
She didn't want to call A to fix it. But she was also afraid the water might suddenly heat up mid-shower.
So she endured a cold rinse and went straight to bed.
Maybe it was the cold shower, but the next morning, she felt woozy. Dizzy.
Her phone lit up with a message from A.
He said he needed to be away for two days. He would return by 20:00 on the third day.
He hoped she would take good care of herself.
She locked her screen, filled a glass with cold water, and downed it.
A was gone.
She could finally clear her mind.
She should be happy.
But she couldn't shake the fog.
Probably because A left at the worst possible time—just when she needed someone to take care of her.
She used her tablet to order a bowl of chicken congee, waiting for the robotic arm to deliver it.
While waiting, she turned on the TV.
Before she could switch channels, the screen flickered with static.
The Anti-Corporation Alliance had hacked the signal—again.
Just like they had during the fireworks show, the alliance often hijacked broadcasts to spew anti-corporate conspiracy theories.
Her congee arrived.
Too lazy to change the channel, she sipped her soup slowly, half-watching the broadcast.
Entertainment, she thought.
"Let me guess what you were just doing," a synthetic voice said through the speakers. "Chatting with your phone's AI? Using your smart home AI to order a bowl of noodles?"
"I've said it before—this world doesn't belong to humans anymore. It belongs to AI!"
So, the Alliance was picking another fight with AI today.
Jiang Kou sipped her soup expressionlessly.
"Think I'm exaggerating? That AI are just dumb tools that do what you say? That they could never rule the world?"
"Well then, you're the idiot!"
"Idiots like you only see the surface. Never the puppet masters behind the curtain."
"Remember the recent chaos in the stock market? Certain criminal groups used AI for high-frequency trading and made a billion dollars in one second!"
"Yes, you heard me right—one second, one billion dollars! Do you even understand what that means? While you're overdosing on caffeine and replacing your synthetic eyes every few years, working until retirement at seventy-five—can you even dream of making that kind of money?"
"But those bastards did it. In a second."
"You still think AI are just obedient little helpers? They understand money better than you ever will."
"Wake up. High-frequency trading is just one example. Stop being the company's slaves. They're using these horrifying technologies to control your eyes, your ears, even your thoughts."
"And now those bastards are trying to pass the 'Artificial Intelligence Personhood Act.' Do you know what that means? It means one day, you'll be buying coffee for AI and polishing their damn shoes!"
"Your phone AI, your smart home AI—they follow your commands, sure. But they're also watching everything you do. What you browse, how loudly you snore, even what you look like in the shower."
"Your freedom, your dignity, your privacy—it's all being stripped away by AI!"
"Stop trusting these machines that watch you around the clock. We need to stand together. Take back our freedom, dignity, and privacy!"
"If we don't resist, if we keep kissing the company's boots—we'll be replaced by robots and turned into their slaves!"
The synthetic voice cut off.
Regular programming resumed.
Jiang Kou finished her soup and glanced at her phone.
The new water heater was still in transit. Estimated arrival: later that afternoon.
She locked the screen, hugged a blanket, and curled up on the couch for a nap.
Her head was too fuzzy. Everything she saw and heard felt like it was veiled in mist.
Only when she shut her eyes did the Alliance's words truly sink in.
AI. Stock market. High-frequency trading. One second. A billion dollars.
A billion dollars.
For just a moment, every drop of blood in her body froze. A violent shiver ran through her.
—Could that billion dollars A gave her… be that billion?