Dark clouds swept in from the horizon.
The weather forecast showed that London would see a heavy rainstorm today.
In a classroom at the medical school, Gu Mingxuan adjusted the computer equipment while an elderly professor stood beside him.
No matter how attractive Westerners were in their youth, once they entered old age, their former looks faded away, replaced by an air of having weathered life's hardships.
Looking at Gu Mingxuan, he said kindly, "Gu, thank you again this time. An old man like me really isn't good with this equipment. We've already fallen behind the times."
Gu Mingxuan replied politely in fluent English, "Your talent is irreplaceable. The purpose of computers is to contain humanity's talents and make them convenient for everyone to use. So it isn't you who should adapt to computers—computers should adapt to you."
As veteran computer researchers, they understood deeply that all computer technology was built upon human needs.
Computers were always learning from humans.
And while computer intelligence might surpass some individuals, it could never surpass humanity as a whole.
"Gu, this is the first time I've heard anyone say something like that."
The old professor was very pleased, because more than once, people had told him that he couldn't learn to use these devices and couldn't keep up with the times.
Gu Mingxuan did not exchange further pleasantries and prepared to leave the classroom.
He had not remained at the medical school merely to calibrate equipment.
He was also searching for books related to medicine.
As for the difference between traditional Chinese medicine and Western medicine, Gu Mingxuan felt it was much like the difference between chemistry and physics.
One treated people as toys, fixing whatever part had broken.
The other strengthened the body's own ability to heal, allowing its natural mechanisms to