Lin Li

On the other side of the Earth, along the Atlantic coast in southeastern North America, it was 9:37 p.m. local time. It was still night.

Stars glittered across the sky. Light from distant stars in deep space had taken thousands of years to cross the universe and reach this planet.

A white Boeing airliner flew past at an altitude of ten thousand meters. Before long, it would reach its destination: New York, the largest metropolis in the Free Business Alliance.

The airliner carried hundreds of people and flew at over a thousand kilometers per hour. On its right wing, a transparent seagull flapped its wings and lightly hopped.

To conserve its strength, it had hitched a ride. Now that it had reached its destination, it was time to leave.

The seagull left the plane, pressed its wings tight against its body, and spiraled down toward the thick clouds below, beginning a free fall.

It picked up speed as it plunged through the dense clouds. In just a few dozen seconds, it was already a thousand meters above the ground. Below lay New York, a metropolis whose all-night lights illuminated the sky.

The seagull's wings snapped open, and it began to slow as it glided. Its eyes, sharper than an eagle's, searched the ground for its destination. Then it flapped its wings and shot toward a particular area.

In Queens, in a small park in front of an upscale apartment building, two mixed-race Black high school students with braided hair and tattoo-covered hands swayed as they sang into a camera, filming a video.

A young Asian man in a black coat and smart glasses walked slowly toward them. He watched the two youngsters making a racket in the park and wore a perfectly measured smile as he captured the scene with his smart glasses. Then he went straight back to his home.

Once back in his apartment, he printed out the photos he had just taken and hung the new one in an empty spot on the wall.

Soft music began to play in the room. The young man sat on the sofa in the middle of the living room, wearing a perfectly measured smile as he looked over the photos. He had taken them every day for years, and now there were more than a thousand, almost enough to cover the entire living room.

The first photo near the door showed the young man himself. He wore that same perfectly measured smile. It had been taken at his onboarding ceremony for the game. Looking at it, he murmured:

"Lin Li, September 12, 2043. I became a game developer. I'm very happy."

The second photo showed a blonde woman with wheat-colored skin and a voluptuous figure.

"Aierxue, September 13. We became a couple. I'm very happy."

The third photo showed an old man leaning on a cane.

"Morse, September 14. I helped him up the stairs. I'm very happy."

A bartender in a dim bar, and a glass of liquor on the counter.

"March 28, 2044. Aierxue and I broke up. I'm very sad."

The back of a man being led away by the police.

"June 3, 2045. Dora shoplifted at the supermarket. He was sentenced to six months after I reported him. What a shame."

The thousands of photos recorded everyone Lin Li had crossed paths with each day since he became a game designer. Every night after work, he would sit here and slowly recall them.

He remembered everyone he had ever met, and whenever he recalled the past, he made sure to display the appropriate emotion: happiness, sadness, excitement, a smile, and so on.

But if someone had photographed Lin Li's expressions and compared them one by one, they would have discovered something astonishing: every smile was exactly the same, and whenever he sighed, his lips parted by precisely the same amount.

"Tap, tap, tap~"

A noise from the window interrupted Lin Li's memories. He turned his head and saw a seagull pecking lightly at the glass.

His mouth parted slightly, his pupils dilated a little, and he put on an appropriately surprised expression. He used his smart glasses to open the window, and the seagull flapped inside and landed on the sofa.

The seagull perched beside him, looked up at the man, and spoke in a human voice. "Good evening, Lin Li. I'd like to hire you."

Lin Li opened his mouth wider and pointed at the seagull before exclaiming, "My God! How is this possible? A seagull can talk! Something must be wrong with this world!"

The seagull wagged its wings. "Stop pretending. I know you can't feel emotions."

Lin Li's surprised expression vanished. Now he looked like a lifelike puppet. Even people who knew him well might not have recognized him.

Ever since he was born, apart from basic survival drives like hunger and the need to sleep, Lin Li had barely felt any emotions. He didn't cry when he was hurt. His parents' toys never made him laugh, and he never played or fought over toys with the other children at kindergarten.

His parents took him to many hospitals. Most doctors diagnosed him with autism, saying he preferred to be alone, lacked emotional connection with others and attachment to his parents, and was indifferent to outside stimuli.

However, Lin Li had an extraordinary memory. His near-photographic recall let him learn about everything in the world at an astonishing speed. He even pieced together the nature of human emotions from his parents' words, though he could not experience any of them himself.

He tried to imitate how other children were supposed to behave, but the little boy, only a few years old, had a face that was forever calm and blank.

So when he told his parents, without expression, "I want a toy," or "I love Mom and Dad," they felt no joy. Instead, they began to fear their child's almost inhuman behavior.

It seemed to be the last straw. At last, his parents could no longer bear having a child who was like a puppet, and sent him to an orphanage.

Even so, Lin Li felt no sadness at being abandoned.

From his parents, he had learned one thing: human feelings were expressed through a combination of words, facial expressions, and body language. He had to learn all of them.

So he began memorizing the expressions and gestures the children at the orphanage used to express themselves. From the caregivers' treatment of the children, he learned what people considered good and what they considered bad.

After that, he became the most beloved child at the orphanage. He grew cheerful and optimistic, and the other children began to like this friend who knew so much.

He saw an old woman from the orphanage secretly telling a caregiver his story and wiping away tears. In her eyes, he was now a good boy cruelly abandoned by his parents.

Based on what he had learned, this emotion was called "pity," and he himself was a poor, pitiful child.

Although he still couldn't feel emotions, this imitation made life more comfortable. He could eat more, which meant he wouldn't go hungry and have trouble keeping his mind working at full speed.

The other children also stopped shunning him as a monster. He became a normal, well-behaved child who could play and get along with everyone. He no longer woke in the middle of the night when someone threw a shoe at him, and he could finally sleep well.

From then on, the withdrawn Lin Li became a cheerful, optimistic, and hardworking child prodigy. He was soon adopted by an affluent older Chinese couple who were unable to have children, and enrolled in the best private elementary school.

Lin Li's outstanding acting skills always helped him get along with those around him, while his brilliant mind made it easy for him to attend the best universities.

He became the celebrated young talent everyone admired. No one knew he had once been an emotionless puppet. Even fewer knew that he had none of the grand ambitions he spoke of when he held forth in public. He had only wanted a full meal and a good night's sleep.

Now an inexplicable seagull had barged in and exposed his disguise. It might shatter his peaceful life and turn him into an outcast again.

Lin Li asked in a flat voice, "Who are you? What do you want?"

The seagull spoke. "Hunger, the need to sleep, the drive to reproduce, and all the sensations of the human body together give rise to the many feelings people experience."

"Problems in certain areas of your brain prevent you from feeling those emotions. Even when you share the same experiences and physical sensations as other people, you can't understand what an emotion is."

"The human brain is a complex whole. I can't guarantee I could make you like everyone else. Besides, your current state is more useful to me."

"But I can give you the memories of people who do experience emotions."

Lin Li continued staring at the seagull without expression, his mind rapidly processing the information. Then he summed it up: "If I had the corresponding memories, combined with the sensations in my own body, perhaps I'd be able to feel those emotions."

"Exactly. Human emotions arise from many factors combined. There's no doubt you have your own desires, too. A machine wouldn't actively change itself to create a better environment for survival."

Lin Li said, "Prove it, and tell me what I'll have to pay."

The seagull opened its beak and chuckled. "Good. I like an even exchange. This seagull belongs to you now. I look forward to the day we meet in person."

The next moment, the ordinary-looking seagull began to twist and warp. The disguise on its seemingly pure-white wings split open, revealing the vivid red flesh and bones within.

Within seconds, the seagull had turned into a writhing mass of flesh, its surface covered in countless dark-red sinews. Several tentacles writhed and slowly reached toward the man sitting on the sofa.

Unfortunately, even faced with this eerie, horrifying sight, Lin Li remained expressionless. The mass of flesh found this rather boring. A small, round, pink head poked out, and the seagull's voice came from within it. "How dull. You're not like the others. I can't scare you."

Hearing the seagull's tone, Lin Li asked, "You're not the same one as before."

One of the mass's tentacles shot out with a whoosh and coiled tightly around Lin Li's wrist. A series of tiny cracking sounds rang out as the tentacle crushed the bones in his wrist.

The little pink head said indignantly, "What do you mean, 'that one'? That was my master—no, my former master. He's a terrifying fellow, so watch what you say."

Even with his wrist crushed by the red tentacle, Lin Li remained expressionless. The pink head felt a sense of defeat.

It drooped slowly and retreated into the mass of flesh. A faint mumble came from within: "Both my masters are weirdos. I've got it so rough."