Jiang Yixin picked up Qian Xiaole's mouse and opened the character attribute details.
On-screen, Qian Xiaole's star chart slowly unfolded.
Unlike the sparse star charts of Little Yang and Little Niu, Qian Xiaole's was dense as a massive spiderweb. More than half of its nodes were lit, and several core nodes were linked together.
[Java] → [Go] → [Python] → [Multilingual System Architecture] → [Performance Intuition] [Product Research] → [User Scenario Modeling] → [Feature Priority Assessment] [AI Toolchain Integration] → [Multi-Agent Collaboration Design] → [?]
The final node was dark, but a line of text appeared above it: Growth direction has not yet converged. Continue exploring.
"How did you get the system to accumulate so much data?" Jiang Yixin asked. "Why do you have so many work logs?"
"Because I don't just record my work results. I record my thought process too," Qian Xiaole said matter-of-factly, as if it were something insignificant.
She opened a document in her work suite titled "Fragments in My Head Today 202504."
It was densely packed with things: doubts she had during meetings when she felt the logic behind a decision was flawed but did not voice it at the time; ideas that came to her after seeing user feedback; places where an article she had read contradicted a previous judgment of hers; even strengths in Jiang Yixin's working style that she felt were worth learning after working with her.
At a glance, they were indeed all work-related, but there was no logic to them. They were more like a collection of countless fragmented thoughts.
And that was only from yesterday.
Jiang Yixin glanced at the size of the scrollbar by the browser window. It was so short it was nearly invisible. She had no idea just how enormous the document was.
"This