Four years had passed, and it wasn’t until last year that he finally developed the rudimentary AI before him—one that could only interact with him through text.

"Ugh, this computer’s too outdated. I need to upgrade the hardware just to get 'Dragon Brain' running smoothly," Wang Hao sighed softly, tapping away at the keyboard as he exchanged fragmented conversations with the AI prototype he had named Long Nao (Dragon Brain).

His current machine was a relic from three or four years ago. In the fast-evolving world of electronics, what was once mainstream had long since become obsolete. Though the computer had been decent back then, it struggled to keep up with the demands of his AI development. The learning capabilities of the AI were there, but the computational power was severely limited, making it impossible to efficiently process and integrate the vast amounts of data. For now, it served merely as a tool to help him organize materials and conduct searches.

"I need to figure something out. My hard drive’s almost full," Wang Hao muttered, frustration etched on his face. As Dragon Brain ran longer, it generated more and more junk files, and he still hadn’t found a good solution. The problem had plagued him for a full month, yet he remained stuck.

"Forget it, I’ll deal with it after the college entrance exams," he sighed with a wry smile. School was still in session, and though the curriculum was no longer challenging for him, he preferred to avoid drawing attention. Shortly after acquiring his learning system, he had already mastered all the high school material. With his accelerated learning ability, even university-level exams—and even graduate-level tests—posed no difficulty. He had even experimented with the skill ratings in his system, testing his proficiency in various subjects.

He had even engaged in online discussions with a university physics professor, only to realize his own understanding of physics was at least on par with, if not superior to, the professor’s. At that time, he had just broken through to Physics Level 6, and after advancing to Computer Science Level 7, hacking into any system became trivial—unless there was no internet connection, in which case he was helpless. Most of the data he sought, however, was classified and stored in offline, secure locations, beyond even his reach.

Ring ring ring...

Just then, his phone vibrated, emitting the old-fashioned ringtone of a traditional handset. Glancing at the caller ID, a warm smile spread across his face.

"Hey, Zhang Xin," Wang Hao answered, only to be interrupted by a crisp, melodious voice on the other end—clearly a woman’s.

"Brother, we’re downstairs. Open the door already!"

The voice was lively and brimming with energy. Wang Hao chuckled wryly, his fingers pausing over the mouse as he quickly minimized Dragon Brain to hide it from view.

"Coming, coming," he replied, rising to his feet. The caller was his younger sister—though not by blood, she was the daughter of his adoptive parents. Their relationship was close, and he knew she wouldn’t be alone. At least one of his adoptive parents must have come along too.

"Uncle, Auntie, why did you all come?" Wang Hao addressed them respectfully, though in his heart, he had long since accepted them as family. Still, old habits died hard, and he couldn’t bring himself to call them anything but "Uncle" and "Auntie."

"Aren’t you about to take the college entrance exams? We’re on break, so we came to cheer you on," his adoptive mother replied, unfazed by his formality. She had grown accustomed to it and looked at him with tender affection.

"Brother!" Zhang Xin chirped as she slipped off her shoes with practiced ease.

"Brother!"

"Xiao Nan," Wang Hao greeted the younger child with a nod and a smile.

"Yeah, the place is tidy. Living alone here must be tough. How’s your exam prep going?" Zhang Nan’s father asked, his tone serious but his eyes warm with affection. He had no high expectations for Wang Hao—only that he be happy. He knew how deeply the mountain flood had affected him, fearing it might have left emotional scars.

After waking from his coma, Wang Hao had barely eaten for three days, surviving only on IV drips. It took multiple sessions with a psychologist before he began speaking again, and it was only in the past two years that he had started to recover.

"Auntie will help you tidy up," Zhang Nan’s mother said, glancing around the room before her gaze lingering on the photo by the TV stand. Her expression softened with pity, and she spoke up suddenly.

"Let Auntie help you clean up..."

Before Wang Hao could respond, his adoptive father chimed in, "Let’s do it."

Wang Hao watched as his adoptive mother began tidying up, subtly removing the photo album of his biological parents and tucking it away in the TV stand drawer—a ritual they repeated every visit. He knew it was their way of shielding him from pain.

"Xiao Hao, you’re eighteen now. Whatever happens, we’re here for you," his adoptive father sighed, his voice heavy with emotion. They visited whenever they could, but every time, that framed photo by the TV—a picture from Wang Hao’s first trip to an amusement park, one of the few and last photos of him with his parents—remained in its place.

The memory was too painful, yet too precious to part with.

"Xiao Hao, you’re not a child anymore. Look forward, and know that we’re your support," his adoptive father added softly.

Wang Hao met his gaze, unsure how to respond. Zhang Xin and Zhang Nan, sensing the somber mood, fell silent as well.

"Nonsense, Xiao Hao, don’t listen to your uncle. I bought your favorite crayfish—I’m making it right now!" his adoptive mother shot his father a glare.

"Right, right… Let’s have a crayfish feast today!" his adoptive father slapped his forehead, laughing.

"It’s been years. I’m not as fragile as you think," Wang Hao smiled, reassuring them.

"You two, if you have any questions, ask Xiao Hao. I’ll help in the kitchen," his adoptive father said, heading toward the kitchen.

"Got it."

"We know, Dad, go ahead."

As soon as their father disappeared into the kitchen, Zhang Xin and Zhang Nan tugged Wang Hao into his bedroom.

"Brother, teach me singing. I’ve mastered the breathing technique you showed me last time!" Zhang Xin said excitedly.

"Sure," Wang Hao replied with a smile. Though he wasn’t deeply versed in music, he had spent a few days studying it just to help her. With his Music Level 5 proficiency, teaching her was no challenge.

At first, Zhang Xin had harbored resentment toward him, fearing he would steal her parents’ affection. But his vast knowledge had gradually won her over, and she had come to admire—and even idolize—him.

After the flood, his adoptive mother had taken a year off work just to focus on his recovery. Though she had to care for Zhang Xin and Zhang Nan as well, his adoptive parents had initially considered moving to Changnan City with him.

But Wang Hao insisted on staying in Ganzhou. After much deliberation, they agreed to let him remain, confident in his independence. Still, they called daily to check in and visited whenever they could.

In the bedroom, Wang Hao earnestly shared his insights on music and vocal techniques, while the two siblings listened attentively, like model students.