Siheyuan: tomb robbing? I am serious about hunting.

Chapter 763 Rainbow

"Ladies and gentlemen, what we are proposing is not a model, but a new computing paradigm." His voice echoed in the dome, and his fingertips slid across the holographic projection of the neuron map. Johnson in the front row suddenly sat up straight. When Wang Yang showed the actual chip, the camera zoomed over the bionic synaptic structure on the silicon surface, and there were gasps from the back row. "The energy consumption of traditional chips is 37 times that of ours." He called up the comparative data, "More importantly, it can evolve autonomously like the human brain." During the question-and-answer session, Professor Smith of Cambridge University raised the microphone: "How does your algorithm avoid catastrophic forgetting in dynamic scenarios?" Wang Yang smiled and switched the interface. In the demonstration video, the robot equipped with the chip accurately sorted in the chaotic warehouse, and each decision generated a new neural path. Sporadic applause broke out in the venue, gradually gathering into a wave. During the tea break, Lin Yue squeezed over with a cup of coffee: "Dr. Wang, so many people are looking for you!" Behind her were reporters holding recorders, corporate representatives in suits, and white-haired academic seniors. Wang Yang was surrounded in the center, and suddenly heard a familiar voice in Chinese: "Xiao Yang, well done!" The mentor squeezed in from the outside of the crowd, his eyes behind the glasses flashing with tears. In the hotel room late at night, Wang Yang stared at the unread emails on the computer screen. Johnson sent a cooperation invitation, the MIT laboratory requested to share data, and even a headhunter offered a million-dollar annual salary. He took out the family photo in his pocket - in the photo, his parents stood in front of the old house, and his father held the clipping of his award. At the closed-door seminar the next day, Wang Yang pushed open the conference room marked "VIP". At the end of the long table, Johnson was turning a pen: "Let's talk about your 'evolutionary algorithm', it reminds me of the failed project twenty years ago." The old man called up the yellowed experimental records, and Wang Yang noticed that the key data columns were repeatedly altered with a red pen. "Are you stuck on the neural signal attenuation rate?" Wang Yang opened the tablet and his fingers flew on the virtual keyboard. When he drew the improved feedback loop, Johnson suddenly stood up and said, "So that's it! We didn't have this bioelectric buffer layer back then!" The atmosphere in the conference room was instantly boiling, and other scholars gathered around, with the pens on their notebooks rustling. At the closing ceremony of the summit, the organizing committee temporarily added the "Breakthrough Innovation Award". Wang Yang stood on the podium and saw Lin Yue holding up her mobile phone in the audience to live broadcast, her mentor wearing reading glasses to wipe the lenses, and Johnson nodding to him with a smile. In the aftertaste of the award speech, he remembered what his mentor said before he left: "Academics have no borders, but scientists have a motherland." At the celebration banquet, Silicon Valley's technology upstarts rushed to toast. Wang Yang quietly slipped to the terrace and made a long-distance call. His mother's voice came with electricity: "Your father recorded the news broadcast and played it three times a day." His father coughed in the background: "Don't listen to your mother's nonsense, I will study the principle of that chip..." When the return flight took off, Wang Yang looked at the city lights outside the window. A new message popped up on his phone, a photo sent by a junior sister in the lab: the latest batch of chips were being packaged, and the words "China Brain" were printed on his dustproof suit. He took out the commemorative badge issued by the conference, and the circuit board pattern on it reflected a rainbow in the sunlight - that was a galaxy of code and wisdom. When he landed in Beijing, the early spring breeze was wrapped in the fragrance of magnolia. Wang Yang pushed his luggage out of the terminal and saw a banner of "Tsinghua-Peking Artificial Intelligence Laboratory" at the airport reception. The junior sisters jumped and waved, and the tutor handed over a thermos cup: "Hot jasmine tea, your favorite." Outside the crowd, a reporter chased after him with a camera. In the lens, the summit badge on his chest was shining. Three months later, the top international journal "Nature Machine Intelligence" published a cover paper. Wang Yang stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window of the laboratory, watching the cherry blossoms flying downstairs. In the acknowledgments section of the paper, he wrote: "Dedicated to those who believe that code can change the world, and to the laboratory that always keeps the lights on for me." The whirring sound of the subway came from the distance, which sounded very much like the current flowing in the chip, carrying dreams to unknown territories.

The quantum learning model presented by Turing Award winner Johnson and the multimodal interactive system presented by MIT professors, each page of the PPT is like a precise Swiss watch. When the host read out his name, he heard his heartbeat vibrating his eardrums. The moment he stepped onto the podium, the laser pen slipped in his palm. The moment the projection screen lit up, Wang Yang suddenly remembered the early morning in the laboratory: the tutor wore reading glasses to debug the circuit board, the junior sister held the oscilloscope with her hands frozen red, and he repeatedly modified the code for seventeen versions.

The designer Su Tang traveled to the Jia Mansion because of an ancient painting and met the frail and sensitive Lin Daiyu. Through the plots of tasting tea in Xiaoxiang Pavilion and writing poems in Aojing Pavilion, while retaining the original charm, the modern perspective collides with classical emotions, depicting the friendship between the two from strangers to acquaintances. The sound of the rainstorm hitting the green tiles hurt Su Tang's eardrums. She staggered and held the corridor column, and her fingertips touched the cold red lacquer. Only then did she realize that it was no longer a museum display case in front of her - incense was floating between the carved beams and painted buildings, and a maid in a moon-white skirt was walking with a lantern. The three words "Xiaoxiang Pavilion" on the lantern were blurred in the rain. "Are you lost?" The maid's voice was timid. Su Tang looked down and saw that the modified cheongsam on her body was out of place in this world full of silk and satin. Before she could speak, a cough came from the west room, as if someone was covering a half-sigh with a handkerchief. The gauze curtain fluttered lightly, and the woman leaning on the couch had her hair loosely tied up, and her eyebrows were covered with a hint of melancholy. Su Tang's breathing stagnated - the person in front of him was clearly Lin Daiyu in the picture album of "Dream of Red Mansions", but at this moment she was really holding a volume of "Poems of Li Yishan", and the jade bracelet on her wrist made a slight sound as she turned the pages. "Look at this look, it seems like she walked out of the painting." Daiyu's lips curled slightly, but her eyes were frosted, "Zijuan, take a cloak for this girl." Su Tang looked at the brocade cloak handed to him, and when he touched the warmth of Zijuan's palm, he was shocked to find that he was soaked all over. When the three-o'clock gong sounded, Su Tang sat on the Xiangfei couch. Daiyu leaned against the incense burner and was wiping her tears with a shark silk handkerchief. "Why are you crying, girl?" As soon as he said this, Su Tang regretted it - the tears of Lin Daiyu in the original work were a debt of love that could not be repaid. "I just read 'Leaving the withered lotus leaves to listen to the sound of rain', which is in line with the rain." Daiyu put the manuscript on her knees, "Miss, since you are from far away, have you heard about the interesting things outside?" Su Tang looked at the flickering candlelight and talked about modern high-speed trains, airplanes, and mobile phone networks. Seeing Daiyu's eyelashes trembling, she seemed to believe it but not to believe it. The next day, the poetry club opened. Tanchun saw Su Tang wearing a short jacket with narrow sleeves. Just as she was about to ask a question, Daiyu had already covered her lips with a round fan: "This Miss Su is my distant relative, who has returned from overseas." Li Wan spread out the gold-sprinkled paper and smiled, "In this case, today, take 'moon' as the theme and write a poem each." Su Tang looked at the crescent moon in the sky, with the tip of the pen hanging on the rice paper.