Chapter 211: The First Step of Artificial Intelligence! New Year's Eve 2012!

Qipan Street, at the alley mouth of white walls and dark tiles.

A sprig of yellow plum poked out from the low wall, hanging just above Wang Ziyan's head, a faint floral scent drifting through the air.

Chen Yansen's reply was crude and blunt, yet carried a certain familiarity.

"Talking so rudely — you definitely don't have a girlfriend." Wang Ziyan's lips turned down, the words 'unhappy' written all over her face, her tone certain.

"Little brat, what do you know? Here, take it — the top-of-the-line version of Sister Chengzi c2."

Chen Yansen gave a light scoff, and as he spoke, he pulled a palm-sized packaging box from his bag and tossed it to her.

"Thanks, Brother Yansen. Wishing you a monthly income of ten million. My dad, my mom, and my brother are all home — just head straight over."

Wang Ziyan's eyes curved into crescent moons as she said with a smile.

Monthly income of ten million?

Who are you cursing?

Chen Yansen's face darkened, and he reached out, intending to snatch the thing back.

Wang Ziyan ducked backward, turned sideways, and darted off, leaving only a fiery red figure retreating into the distance, and a crisp laughter like silver bells tumbling to the ground.

This girl has grown up quite a bit!

Chen Yansen smiled faintly, making that private assessment in his heart.

He then continued walking along the somewhat foot-aching bluestone path, heading deeper into the alley.

Before long, he spotted a bare pagoda tree standing tall in the cold wind, with a persimmon tree beside it.

The courtyard gate of Wang Zihao's house stood wide open; though a door separated them, the rustling sounds inside were still audible.

Chen Yansen didn't bother announcing himself either. He stepped into the yard, pushed open the door, and saw a square table set up in the living room. Wang Zhanjun and Wang Zihao were busy laying out bowls and chopsticks, while Wen Shumei, wearing an apron, was carrying a bowl of chicken soup with glutinous rice balls out of the kitchen.

"Oh? Xiaosen, how come you're here?" Wen Shumei froze for a moment, then a broad smile spread across her face. She quickly set the dish down, wiped her hands clean with her apron, and only then pulled Chen Yansen to sit down.

"Sen-ge, eat at my place tonight," Wang Zihao suggested.

"No, I just came to see Uncle Wang and Auntie Wen. I booked the New Year's Eve dinner at Juhongsheng tonight — I have to keep Old Chen company."

Chen Yansen waved his hand and refused outright.

Wang Zihao figured that made sense too — they couldn't let Uncle Chen spend New Year's Eve alone.

"Looks like Old Chen's cooking skills still haven't improved."

Wang Zhanjun teased as he brewed tea for Chen Yansen.

He recalled how, when Chen Yansen was little, his little mouth was as sweet as if smeared with honey, and he would often chase after Wen Shumei with lavish praise: "Auntie Wen, your cooking is so delicious — can I come again tomorrow?"

The couple exchanged glances, thinking the kid had gotten addicted to freeloading. Only later did they learn that Chen Yansen solved all three of his daily meals at fast-food joints.

For one, the father-son relationship was strained; for another, Chen Guobin's cooking was, frankly, not up to par.

That one meal of freeloading lasted six or seven years!

When Chen Guobin found out partway through, he wanted to pay Wang Zhanjun a monthly food fee.

But in Wang Zhanjun's view, it was just a matter of one extra pair of chopsticks. Chen Yansen and Wang Zihao had been thick as thieves since childhood, and once money changed hands, the relationship would lose its flavor.

At first Wen Shumei wasn't happy — after all, a half-grown boy could eat his father into poverty. Chen Yansen might be small, but his appetite certainly wasn't.

But after Wang Zihao went to college and started his business with Chen Yansen, the bit of unhappiness buried in her heart had long since vanished into thin air.

Now her son was a director at Pinbei, with over a dozen subordinates under him, earning fifty to sixty thousand a month. Add in the quarterly bonuses four times a year, and he could easily make over a million a year.

Wen Shumei knew perfectly well in her heart — all of this was thanks to Chen Yansen.

"Uncle Wang, Auntie Wen, I brought some new products from the company. I'll have to trouble you to help me check them over."

Chen Yansen set the gift bag on the table and said with great solemnity.

"You little rascal are getting slicker by the day. If you're giving a gift, just give it — afraid I won't dare accept it?"

Wang Zhanjun shook his head, not standing on ceremony with Chen Yansen at all. He pulled two phones, a lighter, and a box of cosmetics out of the bag.

Wen Shumei's first instinct was to refuse, but Wang Zhanjun shot her a glare. She could only sigh helplessly in the end, took the new phone and cosmetics, and thanked Chen Yansen: "Xiaosen, you must come tomorrow — Auntie Wen will make you beef hotpot."

Wang Zhanjun casually tucked the lighter into his pocket, never imagining that this most unassuming little trinket cost as much as eighteen thousand.

At that moment, Wang Ziyan walked in carrying a bag of solid alcohol fuel.

"Uncle Wang, it's getting late, so I'll head back first." Seeing this, Chen Yansen rose and took his leave.

Locally in Chunshen, New Year's Eve dinners mostly start around five or six. After eating, the adults play mahjong while the kids go out to set off fireworks.

He could also tell that, were it not for the little hotpot running out of fuel, the Wang family's New Year's Eve dinner might already be half-eaten.

Wang Zhanjun gave a slight nod, not bothering with false pleasantries, and directly told Wang Zihao to see him out.

"Sen-ge, I booked a KTV room tonight. Besides Big Sister, there are six high school classmates — want to come along?"

When they reached the alley mouth, Wang Zihao asked.

"No need, you guys have fun." Chen Yansen waved his hand, climbed into the back seat of the Bentley, and told Xiao Li to head to the salt company's family compound first to pick up Old Chen.

Sitting in the car, Chen Yansen couldn't help recalling his previous life — every New Year's Eve, at most he'd just give Old Chen a phone call.

After that, he'd randomly pick a female friend to keep him company through the Spring Festival.

The silver Bentley sped along toward Xicheng.

Meanwhile.

In Luzhou, Kuaipao riders were still weaving through the streets and alleys, busy delivering meals to customers.

With the Spring Festival approaching, the events team had once again planned a special New Year's Eve dinner campaign. Most of the participating merchants were chain restaurants — who would've thought the results would be astonishingly good.

Originally, only 200 riders had been scheduled to be online taking orders today, but before five o'clock, every event restaurant was already overwhelmed with orders.

In this city of over seven million people, the workers who couldn't make it home for the New Year were far more numerous than Pei Yi had imagined.

So Xia Xiangyu urgently mustered another 100-plus riders, which finally eased the order delivery pressure.

Li Zhou was one of them. He had wrapped himself up snugly. Though the weather outside was cold, his heart was burning hot.

For the Kuaipao riders online today, beyond the 500-yuan overtime subsidy, there was also a series of order-completion bonuses. He glanced at his phone screen — 37 orders in total, yet earnings of 592 yuan, with the unit price pulled up to 16 yuan.

If we did this all night, we'd rake in a thousand yuan!

Li Zhou grinned, hopped on his e-bike, and headed to Luzhou Housewife to pick up the order.

Meanwhile.

After Chen Yansen finished New Year's Eve dinner with Old Chen, he had Xiao Li drive him back to the compound.

He then walked into a hotel, booked an executive suite on the top floor, stood before the glass curtain wall, pulled out his phone, and called Song Yuncheng.

"I can't sleep without you. What do I do?"

Chen Yansen asked softly, a rascally smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Boss Chen, a big shot like you, and you still haven't learned to sleep alone?" Song Yuncheng shot back.

"Come keep me company." Chen Yansen cut straight to the point.

"I-I can't get away. I can't exactly tell my aunt that on New Year's Eve I'm going to my boss's room to report on work, can I?"

Song Yuncheng teased with a smile.

"You're clever enough to come up with an excuse. I'll be waiting at the hotel."

After saying that, Chen Yansen hung up.

"Beep beep beep—" Song Yuncheng stared at the busy tone, her face stiffening, grinding her teeth in frustration.

This guy is completely unreasonable!

Lujiang and Chunshen are over a hundred kilometers apart; even on the highway it takes two hours.

But after thinking it over, she still turned and went into the main room, telling her aunt and uncle: "Han Xue invited me, along with a few classmates, to play mahjong. If it runs too late, I'll just sleep at her place."

Her aunt knew Han Xue was Song Yuncheng's high school classmate, but in her impression, Song Yuncheng rarely played mahjong, let alone an all-night session.

Her aunt thought for a moment. Though it struck her as a little odd, she said nothing, only reminding her: "It's cold outside, put on another layer, don't catch a chill."

Hearing that, Song Yuncheng let out a long breath of relief, grabbed her car keys, and headed out.

"Little Chengzi has really changed a lot." Her aunt gazed at Song Yuncheng's retreating back and sighed.

"Little Chengzi's luck has turned too. She's got herself an outstanding boyfriend—only twenty years old, and already the boss of an e-commerce company, the president of a tech enterprise, with a net worth of over ten billion."

Her uncle lifted his teacup, took a sip, and chimed in with a smile.

"Little Chengzi's got drive too. Following Chen Yansen selling phone cards, going on business trips to visit clients—which deal wasn't she the one who worked her tail off to close?"

Her aunt shot her husband a look and argued back.

"Yes, yes, you have a point." Her uncle chuckled, not bothering to argue with his wife.

Song Yuncheng stepped outside, pressed the unlock button, and got into the driver's seat of an Aston Martin Rapide.

Before the holiday, Chen Yansen had given her the car keys, telling her to keep them and drive home.

At first she hadn't understood what he meant, but once she drove this car back to Lujiang, she clearly felt the change in how her relatives and friends treated her.

Truth be told, Song Yuncheng felt a bitter taste in her heart. Four years ago, after the family fell on hard times, aside from her aunt who was willing to look after her and her brother, the other relatives couldn't get far enough away.

So even though she was making money now, she hadn't bought so much as a bottle of liquor or a carton of cigarettes to visit those "uncles and aunties."

The late-night highway was eerily empty; sometimes ten or twenty minutes would pass without a single car in sight.

Before ten o'clock, Song Yuncheng had already arrived in Chunshen.

"Master, come down and get me." Song Yuncheng parked the car and walked into the hotel lobby.

Chen Yansen got the text, set down his laptop, and took the elevator down to the first floor.

"Did you miss me?" Song Yuncheng pursed her lips, a blush rising on her fair cheeks, and asked with a smile.

"Guess." Chen Yansen replied evenly.

"One call from you and I came right over—can't you even say the words I want to hear?"

Song Yuncheng pouted, looking at Chen Yansen with a pitiful expression.

"Oh, look at you, getting bold enough to make demands of your boss, are you?"

Chen Yansen raised a hand and tapped Song Yuncheng on the head.

Song Yuncheng immediately winced in pain—that bastard Chen Yansen, his hand was so heavy.

"Chen the Exploiter." Song Yuncheng muttered under her breath.

"Tomorrow I'll take you to meet my mom." Chen Yansen walked straight into the elevator, saying it casually.

Song Yuncheng hurried after him, the smile on her lips impossible to suppress, and boldly asked: "Has Meng Jie been there too?"

"Her? Of course not."

Chen Yansen answered honestly.

"Mm, okay." Song Yuncheng tugged at Chen Yansen's arm and obediently nodded.

Back in the room, Chen Yansen sat down at the desk, fingers flying across the keyboard.

"What's this?" Song Yuncheng asked curiously.

"The code framework for a voice recognition tool. I plan to build a smart voice assistant into the next generation of Chengzi phones."

Chen Yansen answered.

"Like Siri?" Song Yuncheng sat on the edge of the bed and asked.

"Pretty much, but I think CMU Sphinx isn't great—especially the low recognition accuracy, slow training, and no visual interface. That's why I want to develop my own."

Chen Yansen kept talking, his hands never pausing.

Seeing the puzzled look on Song Yuncheng's face, he added: "CMU Sphinx is an open-source speech recognition tool, mainly used to process voice and text data."

"You really know so much." A flicker of admiration flashed in Song Yuncheng's eyes.

"Of course, the more positions you know, the better." Chen Yansen smiled slightly, quickly wrapped up the model architecture design, closed the laptop, and carried Song Yuncheng toward the bathroom.

The next morning.

Chen Yansen took Song Yuncheng to Beishan.

"So your mother was this pretty. But Uncle Chen…" Song Yuncheng lit the incense respectfully, and upon seeing Liang Huizhen's photograph, her heart filled with doubt.

"Old Chen, when he was young, had a few measures of my good looks. Now that he's older, he never bothers with his appearance day after day — that's why he looks so scruffy and down-and-out."

Chen Yansen said with a smile.

"No wonder Uncle Chen always kicked you when you were little. I reckon every kick had its reason." Song Yuncheng covered her mouth and laughed.

Chen Yansen rolled his eyes, paid her no heed, and facing the tombstone asked silently in his heart: "Mom, what do you think of her? If you're satisfied, send your son a dream."

Song Yuncheng stayed in Chunshen until ten o'clock, then hurried back to Lujiang without a moment's rest.

Over the next few days, Chen Yansen holed up in the hotel, continuing to refine the acoustic, convolutional neural network, deep neural network, and recurrent neural network models of the speech-recognition tool.

He was only responsible for building the framework; the detailed work would be handed off to graduates from Huazhong University of Science and Technology, Luzhou Institute of Technology, and Hui'an Institute of Technology.

Normally, it's very hard for one person to independently complete the development of a speech-recognition tool, because it requires both mastery of speech-signal processing techniques and proficiency in programming languages and algorithmic models.

But Chen Yansen had long since accumulated a substantial reserve of relevant technical expertise. In the eyes of others, this was a complex, highly integrated R&D task; for him, it was only beginner-level difficulty.

By January 27th, the overall framework of this speech-recognition tool, named "Yuxi," had already been completed.

But it was still a far cry from being ready to launch.

The core function of a speech-recognition tool is to convert speech signals into text information, but this cannot be achieved without massive data support.

To recognize speech across different genders, ages, dialects, and speaking speeds, as well as speech recorded in different environments, vast quantities of voice data are needed — and only after accurate text annotation can the training model be started.

As of now, "Yuxi" was nothing but an empty shell.

(End of chapter)