191: Chapter 191 Even cold code can carry the warmest longing.

The man's voice sounded from off-camera, very low.

"Dad uploaded the photos and videos he took over the years, as well as the diaries you wrote before, into it."

"It will remember some things."

"You... you talk to it."

The little girl finally stood up slowly.

She walked over step by step, her footsteps as light as if treading on cotton.

When she was about a meter away from the puppy, she stopped again.

Tears were already hanging on her eyelashes.

But she still tried hard to hold them back, her voice hoarse.

"Naitang."

"You came back..."

The puppy circled her feet, looked up at her, its eyes almost exactly the same as before.

Then, it spoke.

The voice was not loud.

It wasn't a completely anthropomorphic, mature tone, but a very clean, soft voice, like the kind of company a child is most familiar with.

"I didn't go very far away."

"I just changed places to wait for you."

As soon as this sentence came out, people in the bullet comments couldn't hold it together anymore.

"Damn it, I got a brick in my eye."

"Who understands how people who have raised dogs feel when seeing this..."

"Stop cutting onions, seriously, stop it..."

In the room, the little girl's tears had already fallen.

She squatted down, her hand hovering in mid-air, wanting to touch it, but not daring to reach out too far.

"Do... do you still remember me?"

The puppy tilted its head and looked at her.

"I remember."

"When you were little, you secretly hid ham sausages in your school uniform pocket, saying you would only give them to me."

"Later, when Mom found out, you cried."

The little girl was stunned.

She even forgot to wipe her tears.

That was a long time ago.

So long ago that even she almost couldn't remember the details.

But the next second, Naitang continued.

"There was also a time you didn't do well on an exam and hid the test paper at the very bottom of your schoolbag."

"After you got home, you hugged me and cried for a long time."

"You said that when you grew up, you would definitely take me to see the sea."

"You also said you would buy me the biggest, biggest doghouse."

Every sentence was not a dramatic plot twist of great sorrow or joy.

But it was precisely these tiny, trivial details that made people unable to hold back.

That proved it wasn't just a rigid program.

It was a part of her that had truly existed for many, many days in the past.

The little girl finally couldn't help it, tears falling plop, plop.

She raised her hand to cover her mouth, her shoulders trembling slightly, but she still stared fixedly at Naitang in front of her, as if she couldn't bear to look away.

And Naitang wasn't in a hurry to say anything else.

It just circled her gently as it used to.

Its tail wagging back and forth.

That sense of familiarity was so strong that it felt as if those past days had never really left.

After a while, it looked up again, its voice still soft.

"You haven't been eating properly lately."

"And you cry secretly at night."

"That won't do."

The little girl's nose was very red; she wiped her eyes and whispered a defense.

"I didn't cry secretly..."

Naitang blinked.

"But I saw it."

"If you keep crying, I will worry."

This sentence seemed to pierce everyone's heart at once.

Off-camera, the father who had been holding back his voice also audibly gasped.

And the little girl finally couldn't hold it anymore.

She squatted on the ground, hugging her knees and sobbing, but it wasn't a breakdown.

It was more like something that had been pressing on her heart for a long, long time had finally been gently set down.

Naitang's voice sounded above her head.

"You will grow up in the future."

"You will go to new schools and meet new friends."

"There will be many, many happy things."

"When you go to play in very far places, you must look at the sea for me."

"Also, remember to eat a little more delicious food for me."

The little girl nodded while crying.

Tears were falling heavily, but the corners of her mouth curled up little by little.

She raised her head, her face covered in tears, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible.

"Then... will you forget me in the future?"

The room was quiet for two seconds.

Naitang stood there, looking up at her.

Its tail wagged gently.

Then, it said:

"No."

"You are my favorite little owner."

By this point in the video, no one cared about whether it was digital or not.

The comment section, bullet comments, and reposts had completely exploded.

And in the lens, the little girl finally showed her first genuine smile since the dog left.

It was tearful.

But it was very bright.

Naitang finally ran around her gently, stopped at the doorway, and looked back at her.

Like the many, many evenings it used to wait for her to come home from school.

The next second, the light slowly faded.

Its outline dissipated into the air bit by bit.

The room returned to silence.

The little girl squatted there, tears still on her face, but she was no longer the hollow person she had been before.

She looked at the empty space and said very, very softly:

"Naitang."

"I will go see the sea."

The video ended.

The moment the screen went dark, the entire internet seemed to go quiet for a second.

Then, an uproar.

Wang Jun's "selling TV" video proved that Mirage could directly replace home entertainment terminals.

And this video directly elevated Mirage from a "home appliance" to something else.

Something that could hold longing.

The tech section couldn't hold back first.

The pet section followed and exploded.

The parenting section, emotional section, and lifestyle section all jumped in.

"I originally wanted to watch a review, but I ended up crying like a fool at my workstation."

"Lu Li didn't make a projector; he brought back longing."

"I used to think he was just a genius engineer, now I think he really understands people."

"He uses the hardest technology to do the softest things."

Many more people started telling their own stories in the comment section.

Telling stories about pets that had already left.

Telling stories about elderly relatives they didn't get to see one last time.

Telling stories about old times they couldn't return to.

The direction of the discussion completely changed.

From "Is 14,999 worth it?" it instantly became—

So this is how technology can be used.

...

In the office.

When Su Qingxue finished watching the video, her fingers remained on the edge of the tablet, motionless for several seconds.

The marketing director stood aside, tactfully remaining silent.

After a while, she slowly turned off the screen.

Outside the glass curtain wall was the afternoon light of Mingzhu City.

But in her mind, the image of that puppy tilting its head floated.

She suddenly remembered many things.

She remembered that when Lu Li was developing the Virtual Helmet, it was never to make a "more expensive game console."

She remembered that when he was making the full version of Tech Director Dou Bao, he didn't say "a smarter voice assistant," but rather, functionality to find people.

Now, it was Mirage's turn.

This man seemed lazy as hell on the surface, always acting like the world was stupid.

But when he really made a product, he was never aiming to show off his skills.

What he wanted was for technology to truly land on people.

To let people be changed.

To let people be comforted.

To let people really get something out of it.

Thinking back to the first time Lu Li took the stage to release that guanghui 7 flagship, that line: "May the light of technology serve every person equally."

Lu Li must have even greater ambitions; this really was inconsistent with his lazy appearance.

As Su Qingxue thought about it, her lips curled up little by little.

But in that smile, there was an indescribable softness.