"Jiang, then I'll learn from your Uncle Pei and call you that. You don't mind, right?"
Comrade Jiang Chen, who had zoned out, completely forgot he was supposed to get fruit. Halfway there he pulled his hand back. "Of course I don't mind. It's not like you're an outsider."
"..."
"..."
"..."
Crows flew past in a flock once again.
In the end, his heart was a mess.
Once your heart is a mess, your operations are bound to deform. No matter how far ahead of the timeline someone's mental development is, he's still not an AI; he still has the seven emotions and six desires—joy, anger, sorrow, contemplation, grief, fear, and shock.
—Which one is it right now?
Only he himself knows.
No.
He probably doesn't even know himself.
It felt like his leg had been nudged by another leg. Comrade Jiang Chen, thrown off his rhythm, came back to himself and realized he'd used overly forward wording in his blurting, and tried to make amends.
