Chapter 20: The Final Whisper

Ten minutes later, in the small conference room, a group of ten people sat around the table, each furrowing their brows with solemn expressions.

“Team leader, isn’t this pet spirit just artificial intelligence? Although it seems somewhat different,” one member broke the silence first, voicing his doubt.

However, it was clear that these were not the core concerns occupying the team leader’s mind at the moment.

The leader slightly raised his head, his gaze firm as he scanned the group, then bluntly asked, “I’ll say just one thing: can you do it or not?”

The room fell into a heavy silence. After a long pause, resentment filled the air.

“I hate managers who only make PPT presentations. Do it? With what?” The senior developer in charge of backend development and framework construction slowly shook his head and said helplessly, “Unless we get access to their new algorithm, with our company’s current AI, even embedding the entire AI system into the software won’t achieve such an effect.”

“This is a brand-new AI learning algorithm, completely different from anything we’ve encountered before.”

Upon hearing this, the leader’s brow suddenly lifted, and almost without hesitation, he blurted out, “I want an electronic pet, just something cute and good-looking!”

“This pet spirit’s interface is so simple—there’s only an egg image. How come we can’t create a similar product?”

His words were full of dissatisfaction and doubt.

“You should be looking for the art team, not us backend and frontend developers. As it stands, I’m powerless to achieve the same functions and intelligence as that pet spirit.”

The backend lead didn’t hold back, speaking candidly and sharply.

At these words, the leader’s face flushed bright red like a ripe tomato, his eyes full of anger as he glared fiercely at the speaker. The atmosphere in the room instantly became tense and awkward.

Meeting everyone’s expectant eyes, the leader knew that if he kept arguing, he would be the only one making a fool of himself.

The next morning, sunlight gently streamed through the window cracks, casting a soft glow across the room.

Awakened by the clear ringing of his alarm, Li Ping’an slowly stirred from sleep and eagerly crawled out of his warm bed to check the backend data of the software.

One glance and his joy was unmistakable.

In just one night, the number of new users for the pet spirit had increased by over 100,000—a truly heartening achievement.

Humming a cheerful tune, Li Ping’an quickly washed his face and brushed his teeth, all the while thinking that when he visited his parents’ graves today, he would finally have good news to share.

He firmly believed that if his parents were watching from the heavens, learning of his software’s success, they would feel deeply gratified and proud.

Whether due to the solemnity of the upcoming visit or the anticipation of shopping for New Year’s goods, his younger sister, Li Ya, quickly got up upon hearing the noise and promptly took over the bathroom on the second floor to prepare herself meticulously.

Her careful and detailed grooming stood in stark contrast to Li Ping’an’s casual and swift routine.

After just a few quick strokes, he was done.

While his sister took her time upstairs, Li Ping’an busied himself downstairs, preparing the offerings for their parents’ memorial.

The offerings weren’t complicated—just three bowls of dishes: fish symbolizing abundance every year, meat representing a prosperous life, and round dumplings signifying family reunion.

Alongside these were three bowls of steaming hot rice.

The rice was easiest to prepare—just start the rice cooker, and in about twenty minutes it would be ready.

The three dishes, however, required more care and time.

In truth, Li Ping’an wasn’t quite sure why the tradition called for three bowls each of dishes and rice, or exactly which ancestor the extra serving honored.

Despite his doubts, he understood that since this was a custom passed down through generations, it surely held profound meaning, and so he followed it faithfully.

About forty minutes later, Li Ping’an had everything ready for the memorial.

At that moment, Li Ya came downstairs leisurely, her makeup flawless and attire appropriate, looking refreshed and spirited.

Seeing his sister, Li Ping’an casually handed her a freshly steamed bun and said, “Let’s go.”

“Let’s go!” Li Ya replied crisply, quickly grabbing the fireworks and joss paper, then trailing behind her brother like a little shadow.

Unlike their first visit one year after their parents’ passing, the three years that had quietly slipped by had softened the heavy sadness that once marked Li Ya’s face.

This was not because her longing had diminished, but because her brother had told her that the greatest wish of their parents’ spirits was for the two siblings to live better and happier lives.

So she worked hard to be stronger, facing life with optimism, believing this would bring peace to their parents.

The gravesite was not far from home—just about three hundred meters past their second uncle’s house, right by the roadside.

Whenever the siblings returned home, standing at the second uncle’s gate allowed them a distant view of their parents’ resting place.

Long neglected and untended, the grave was overgrown with withered weeds, appearing desolate and forlorn.

Setting his bamboo basket gently on the ground, Li Ping’an donned the gloves he had prepared and bent down to carefully clear the weeds.

As he worked, he murmured softly, “Dad, Mom, I brought your sister to see you.”

His low and gentle voice seemed to bridge the space between this world and the heavens.

Li Ya stood quietly nearby, long accustomed to her brother’s habitual monologues before their parents’ grave.

In truth, deep in her heart, she too had countless words she wished to share with their parents.

Yet, whenever she tried to speak, she felt as if something caught in her throat, preventing her from expressing herself as naturally as her brother.

She believed, however, that their parents understood her heart and knew what she longed to say.

Yes, they surely did.

After clearing the weeds before the tombstone, Li Ping’an began setting out the bowls and chopsticks.

The arrangement of the tableware, as well as the pouring of wine and tea, followed traditional etiquette—it could not be done carelessly.

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