Chapter 331: Emotion Device Financial Application · Nobel Nomination

Less than two hours after Geneva's press conference ended, the sky over Stockholm still wasn't fully light, and the plane tree shadows outside the venue still lay on the floor tiles. Yet the lobby on the first floor of the main building was already bustling, with people in suits forming small groups, holding coffee cups, tossing around words like 'volatility,' 'liquidity,' and 'irrational sell-off,' as if haggling at a vegetable market.

Zhao Chen stepped in just as the door opened, his jacket unbuttoned, tie half-loosened, hair still a bit messy, as if he'd come straight from the airport to the venue. He carried a canvas bag printed with small text: 'Don't panic, Emotion Value decides.' Someone glanced at it and nearly choked on his coffee.

Not long after the summit opened, the host had just finished reading the agenda when someone in the back stood up—a old man in a dark gray suit, his silver sideburns neatly combed, holding a folder, his voice not loud but carrying: 'I have a question—can emotion stabilize the market? Is this economics or a psychology report?'

The hall fell silent for half a second, then many turned to look at Zhao Chen.

Zhao Chen didn't rush to the stage; first he pulled out a bag of chips from his pack, took a crunchy bite, chewing as he walked up. He set the chip bag beside the podium and opened his tablet.

The big screen flashed, showing a dynamic chart: left side the emotion heat curves of several major global financial centers, right side the stock index fluctuations for the same period. The two lines clung tightly, like a pair of tango dancers, you step forward I step back, in sync.

'In October last year, rumors spread in Frankfurt that a certain bank was insolvent,' Zhao Chen pointed at the chart, saying, 'At that time the panic emotion index spiked 61% in three hours, followed immediately by an 8.3% plunge in the stock index. We intervened, launching the emotion guidance mechanism—not deleting posts, not banning accounts, but having the system push gentle messages such as 'Your account is safe, please don't believe rumors' and 'Historical data shows similar situations recover on average in 47 hours.'

He paused, switched to the next chart: 'Twenty-four hours later, the emotion index dropped 37%, the sell-off halted, and capital flow returned to a rational rhythm. Compared to the non-intervened Zurich market, capital outflow there was 58% higher in the same period.'

Someone in the audience muttered, 'Isn't this just appeasing the crowd?'

'Exactly,' Zhao Chen grinned, 'but what you usually do isn't also appeasing capital? Rate cuts, bailouts, verbal assurances to maintain stability—none of that isn't meant to make people "don't panic." We simply turned the two words "don't panic" into a measurable, adjustable, verifiable operation.'

An economist in the front row lowered his head to flip through documents, then suddenly looked up: 'You said the pilot region's data—has it been verified by a third party?'

'Three of them,' Zhao Chen pulled up the report cover, 'the Bank for International Settlements, the Nordic Economic Monitoring Centre, and the UN Asia-Pacific Economic and Social Council—all listed in the attachments. They originally didn't believe it either, sending people to stay on site for two months, and in the end they wrote their own conclusion: 'Emotion intervention has a significant positive effect on short-term market stability.'

That economist said nothing more, lightly tapping his pen twice on the paper.

During the summit's intermission, the door to the closed-door deliberation room was shut tight. The chair of the evaluation committee sat at the head of the long table, three sealed documents placed before him.

'We've discussed this,' he said, 'Zhao Chen's submitted model, in the past six months across three regional financial upheavals, consistently gave early warnings of more than 48 hours, and through targeted emotion adjustment slowed the speed of market crashes. Independent institutions verified the data, finding no errors.'

Beside him, a scholar wearing round-frame glasses snorted: 'What kind of economics is this? Next year should we also nominate a tarot card fortune-teller?'

'This isn't fortune-telling,' the chair said, opening one of the reports. 'It's statistics. It's behavioral data modeling. He turned the fact that "people get scared" from a throwaway line into a calculable variable. We used to say "markets are made of people," then in analysis pretend everyone is rational. He's different—he admits people panic, then works to make the degree of panic controllable.'

He closed the file: 'I propose nominating Zhao Chen as one of this year's Nobel Economics Prize candidates, on the grounds that he redefined the "human" factor in macroeconomics, upgrading emotion from a disturbance term to a core parameter.'

The vote proceeded quickly—seven in favor, two abstentions.

Before the news was even released externally, reporters had already gathered in the hallway.

'Mr. Zhao!' a female reporter shoved her microphone forward, 'If emotion can be adjusted, won't someone use it to manipulate investors' choices? Today make you buy stocks, tomorrow make you vote?'

Zhao Chen leaned against the wall, took a sip of ice water, the bottle creaking in his grip.

'Let me put it another way,' he said, 'a sphygmomanometer can show your high pressure at 180, but it won't automatically inject antihypertensive drugs. The Emotion Device is the same—it only monitors, reminds, and guides; it doesn't make decisions. We've opened all algorithm logic, welcoming any country or organization to inspect. I myself have submitted an application to the UN Economic and Social Council, willing to include the technology in a global public supervision pilot.'

A male reporter followed up: 'Can you really achieve full transparency?'

'I won't boast about what I can't do,' Zhao Chen said, tossing the empty bottle into the garbage bin, dead center, 'but I dare say all operation logs are currently stored as on-chain records—cannot be altered, cannot be deleted. If you doubt it, go check. If you find I've tampered, I'll smash the equipment on the spot and livestream it.'

The crowd fell silent for a moment.

Then someone laughed out loud, and the atmosphere eased.

After the interview, he exited the side door; a special car waited by the curb. As the driver opened the door, he handed over a phone: 'Just received a few emails, all cooperation invitations—from the Brazilian Central Bank and also from the African Union Financial Authority.'

Zhao Chen got into the car, not in a hurry to head back, first glancing out the window.

Streetlights blinked on one after another, shining on the wet road surface. A few young people in suits stood at the corner taking photos; one raised his hand in a 'yeah' gesture, grinning widely.

As the car started, he opened his inbox; the latest subject line read: 'Nobel nomination list internal confirmation—Zhao Chen, Emotion Regulation and Financial Market Stability Research.'

He didn't open it, just placed the phone screen-down on his knee.