A Life Lived as a Moveable Feast

At 6:45 in the morning, Su Jin opened her eyes in the last three seconds of the system's countdown.

This was the fifty-first consecutive day she had woken at this time.

Her body had adapted to the rhythm faster than her conscious mind. Even without a word from Little Golden Egg, her internal clock gently lifted her from the depths of sleep.

The curtains were drawn tight, with only a sliver of daylight showing around the edges. She lay in bed, watching the Baccarat crystal chandelier on the ceiling scatter tiny glimmers through the dimness, and listened as the familiar voice beside her ear began to count down.

[Three, two, one-ding!]

[Congratulations, Host, on completing your fifty-first daily check-in!]

[Today's check-in reward: one townhouse in Back Bay, Boston (Federal style, four stories with a garden, valued at $8.5 million; title transfer completed)]

[Today's check-in reward: formal appointment letter as an honorary visiting scholar at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence Laboratory (CSAIL) (delivered to your email; expedited visa processing channel opened)]

[Today's check-in reward: one private Boeing BBJ MAX 7 (range: 13,000 kilometers, capable of flying nonstop to Boston; custom interior in progress; valued at $120 million)]

[Today's bonus "Visionary" easter egg triggered: because the host has checked in for fifty consecutive days and begun plans to study abroad, the "Academic Connections Network" has been activated, granting an opportunity to establish connections with three Turing Award winners. The first meeting has been arranged during your visit to MIT]

Su Jin lay in bed for three seconds after listening, then slowly sat up.

Her long hair slid off her shoulders and spilled down her back, its ends brushing her waist. She raised a hand to rub the spot between her brows, the corners of her mouth lifting despite herself. Over these fifty-one days, every step had gone in the direction she wanted.

[Host, why are you smiling?] Little Golden Egg squeezed out of the air and floated in front of her, its round body bobbing up and down. [Aren't you satisfied with today's check-in rewards? You can return them if you aren't, although this system doesn't recommend it-]

"I am." She cut it off, threw back the covers, and got out of bed, stepping barefoot onto the thick Persian carpet. "What's on the schedule today?"

[At ten this morning, the MIT video conference Ji Yunshen arranged, with three professors online for a chat. At two this afternoon, you need to give final confirmation on the Pagani's modification details at the garage. And tonight-] It paused, its tone turning suggestive. [Chen Shen asked you to dinner. He said he was going back to Chengdu and wanted to see you once more before he left.]

Su Jin nodded and walked into the bathroom.

Two

Forty minutes later, she came out of the bathroom, stood before the enormous floor-length mirror in her dressing room, and began choosing her first suit of battle armor for the day.

The morning video conference called for something presentable but understated. After all, she was meeting people in academia; she couldn't dress too formally, but she couldn't be too casual either.

Her gaze swept over rows of clothes arranged by color before settling on a black Azzedine Alaïa knit dress.

The dress had been flown in from Paris just last month. Although Alaïa himself had passed away, the brand's new creative director, Pieter Mulier, had perfectly inherited his architectural tailoring: close-fitting without being restrictive, it precisely traced every curve from bust to knee without revealing a bit too much.

The neckline was a minimalist little crew neck, and the sleeves reached her wrists, but the back held a surprise: a cutout ran from her shoulder blades to her waist, offering a glimpse of the graceful curve of her spine.

She reached out and took down the dress, pairing it with black suede Manolo Blahnik heels. The heels were eighty-five millimeters high, and the signature square buckles on the uppers gleamed discreetly in the morning light.

For jewelry, she chose Boucheron's Quatre collection: a white gold diamond ring and a pair of matching stud earrings. Their clean, simple geometric lines complemented Alaïa's architectural aesthetic.

Once dressed, she stood before the mirror and examined herself.

The woman in the mirror stood there, the black knit dress fitting every curve of her body like a second skin. The small circle of the neckline made her neck look even longer, while the cutout at the back appeared and disappeared, striking the most subtle balance between demure and sexy.

She left her hair loose, its ends curled slightly inward, making her face look all the more small and delicate.

Her makeup was extremely light: sunscreen, concealer, a thin layer of loose powder, and CT's Pillow Talk on her lips, a milky tea nude pink that was both soft and sophisticated.

[Full marks.] Little Golden Egg floated behind her and delivered its assessment earnestly. [Alaïa's architectural tailoring with Boucheron's geometric lines gives off an "I'm professional, but I'm beautiful too" feeling. Perfect for meeting people in academia.]

Su Jin ignored it, picked up her silver MacBook Pro, and walked into the study.

Three

The study faced east, and the morning sunlight was just right, streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows and filling the room.

She sat behind the walnut desk, with a wall of bookshelves behind her. They weren't full yet, holding only a few rows of books on art investment and hotel management, but on video they looked enough like the study of a respectable person.

At ten on the dot, the screen lit up.

Three profile images appeared on the screen. One belonged to a white-haired old man, an emeritus professor at MIT CSAIL who had spent thirty years researching deep learning;

Another belonged to a middle-aged woman in round glasses, the director of an artificial intelligence ethics lab;

The third was an Asian person of about forty, surnamed Lin, a computer vision expert from Taiwan who had been at MIT for fifteen years.

Ji Yunshen's profile image was there too, but his camera was off. He sent a single message in the chat: I'm here, listening in.

Su Jin smiled at the camera and greeted them.

All three professors were startled. The white-haired old man even leaned closer to the screen, as though checking that he wasn't seeing things.

Professor Lin spoke first, a hint of surprise in the voice. "Ms. Su, Ji Yunshen said you were young, but I didn't expect you to be this young."

Su Jin smiled without responding to that and went straight to the point. "Hello, professors. I'll start with a brief introduction. I'm very interested in the application of deep learning to computer vision. I've read some papers, but I haven't studied it systematically. I'm applying to be a visiting scholar because I hope to truly enter the field and learn the most cutting-edge things from the very best."

For the next hour, the three professors took turns asking questions: what papers she had read, whether she had worked on any related projects, how she understood the field, and why she had chosen MIT over Stanford or Berkeley.

Su Jin answered each question with neither arrogance nor servility. When she occasionally couldn't answer, she honestly said, "I don't know much about that, and I'd like to learn from you." Her sincerity left no room for criticism.

In the final ten minutes, the white-haired old man suddenly asked an unrelated question. "Ms. Su, I looked into your background. You work in investment and industry, so why did you suddenly want to study computer science?"

Su Jin was silent for two seconds, then said, "Because I think artificial intelligence is certain to change the world over the next ten years. I don't want to be just a bystander, watching other people change the world. I want to take part."

The old man stared at the screen for a few seconds, then smiled a kindly smile. "Good. I like that answer." He paused. "Welcome to MIT."

The other two professors nodded as well.

When the video conference ended, Su Jin leaned back in her chair and let out a long breath.

Her phone vibrated. It was a message from Ji Yunshen: You passed. The formal invitation letter will be sent to your email next week.

She replied: Thank you.

He replied: You're welcome. When you get to Boston, I'll take you to dinner.

Her phone vibrated again. Zhou Ye had sent a message: The visa documents are ready. They'll be submitted tomorrow morning.

She replied: Okay.

Four

At two in the afternoon, Su Jin appeared at the exclusive garage on the fourth basement level of China World Trade Center Phase III.

She had changed clothes, leaving the morning's Alaïa in the dressing room for an outfit better suited to a garage and race cars. She wore a cropped black Balenciaga biker jacket in distressed leather, its metal zippers gleaming coldly under the lights;

Underneath was a white cotton Rick Owens T-shirt with a neckline cut just right. On the bottom, she wore black Maison Margiela jeans, their cuffs tucked casually into black Givenchy ankle boots.

Her hair was tied in a high ponytail, leaving her entire face visible. She had switched to Balenciaga metal logo earrings, exaggerated and sharp against her earlobes.

It was a style she had never tried before: cool, tough, with a touch of dark streetwear. She looked like a different person from the poised, sophisticated woman of the morning.

Entering the garage required passing three checkpoints: facial recognition, fingerprints, and an iris scan.

The entire floor was over a thousand square meters, yet fewer than ten cars were parked there, every one a limited edition: a LaFerrari, a Lamborghini Veneno, a Bugatti Veyron, a McLaren P1, and her silver Pagani.

A new arrival sat in the exclusive parking space at the very back.

A black-and-gold Pagani Zonda 760RSJ, the only one of its kind in the world.

Its body sat so low it nearly touched the ground, its streamlined curves like a beast lying in wait. Under the lights, its black-and-gold paint shimmered with a luxurious yet restrained luster.

The front bore Pagani's signature design, while four exhaust pipes lined up across the rear, as if ready to roar at any moment.

Zhou Ye was already waiting beside it. When he saw her approach, he handed her a document. "President Su, here's all the information on the car. The engine was custom-made by AMG, with 760 horsepower. It goes from zero to a hundred kilometers per hour in 2.8 seconds, and its top speed is 350 kilometers per hour."

Su Jin took the document, flipped through a few pages, then walked around the car.

She reached out and touched the paintwork. It felt warm and smooth, like a piece of the finest black jade.

A small card was stuck to the window, bearing a few words: Welcome to your new owner-with the compliments of the Pagani team.

She stood before the car, looking at the vehicle that belonged to her alone, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly.

[Host,] Little Golden Egg popped out. [Do you like this one? If not, you can exchange it. This system has others-]

"I like it," she said.

Beside her, Zhou Ye asked, "Want to take it for a spin?"

Su Jin considered it, then shook her head. "Not today. Another time."

She turned and walked away, but after a few steps, she looked back.

The black-and-gold Pagani sat there quietly, gleaming with a restrained, luxurious light beneath its dedicated lamps, as though waiting for the day she would drive it out and let it run wild on a real road.

Five

At six thirty that evening, Su Jin appeared outside a Japanese restaurant called Hidden Spring in Sanlitun.

She had changed again, putting away the afternoon's dark biker style in favor of an outfit more suited to a dinner date.

She wore a printed Gucci silk blouse, its burgundy fabric covered in intricate bird-and-flower patterns, with a large bow tied at the neck, languid and romantic;

On the bottom were black Saint Laurent smoking trousers, their sharp creases making her legs look long and straight;

On her feet were burgundy suede Roger Vivier heels with square buckles, perfectly echoing the blouse.

She had switched her jewelry to Bvlgari's Serpenti collection. A rose-gold serpent bracelet set with diamonds coiled around her wrist, with two tiny rubies set in its head;

At her ears were matching serpent earrings, two slender snakes winding along the curves of her ears, their heads hanging just below her earlobes.

Her hair was loosely pinned up with a tortoiseshell clip, revealing her long neck and the serpent earrings.

The restaurant was small, tucked away on the second floor of an old building. There was no sign at the entrance, only a kimono-clad attendant waiting there, who checked her reservation before leading her inside.

They passed through a stone-paved corridor lined with bamboo fences. Bamboo leaves rustled in the evening breeze, making her forget at once that one of Beijing's busiest districts lay just outside.

At the end of the corridor were individual private rooms, their traditional sliding shoji doors glowing with the dim yellow light within. The attendant slid one open and bowed, gesturing for her to enter.

Chen Shen was already there.

He was dressed very formally today, in a dark blue Brioni suit over a white shirt. He wore no tie, and his shirt collar was slightly open, revealing a small stretch of collarbone.

He looked completely different from his usual roguish self, more like a dependable young man on his way to a blind date.

His eyes lit up when he saw Su Jin enter, and he immediately stood.

"You're here." He took two steps toward her, his gaze slowly sweeping over her from head to toe-from her pinned-up hair to the serpent earrings, from the large bow on her printed blouse to the serpent bracelet on her wrist, from her legs in the smoking trousers to the burgundy Roger Vivier heels. Then he stopped, as though something had struck him.

"Su Jin..." His voice sounded a little unsteady. "You look... beautiful tonight. I don't know what to say."

Su Jin looked at him, the corners of her mouth curving. "Then don't say anything."

She sat down across from him, and only then did Chen Shen come back to his senses. He hurried to pour her tea, hand her a towel, and move her chair, as attentive as a boy newly in love.

The attendant began serving the food: sea urchin and mashed yam as an appetizer; an assorted sashimi platter with fatty tuna belly, Hokkaido sea urchin, and botan shrimp; grilled Saikyo-style sablefish; shiso and sea urchin tempura; foie gras and wagyu fried rice as the main dish; and finally, yuzu ice cream.

Every dish was as exquisite as a work of art, carefully plated and delicious.

As Chen Shen poured her sake, he said, "Their ingredients are flown in from Japan every day. The sea urchin is from Hokkaido, and the tuna comes straight from Toyosu Market. I had to book three days in advance to get a table. I wanted to treat you to a good meal before I left."

Su Jin picked up a slice of fatty tuna belly. Rich and succulent, it melted in her mouth. She nodded. "It's good."

Chen Shen smiled, looking as happy as a child who had been praised.

Halfway through the meal, he put down his chopsticks and looked at her, his gaze turning serious.

"Su Jin," he said, "I'm leaving tomorrow."

Su Jin looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

"I came to Beijing this time because I wanted to see you." He paused, as though gathering his words. "I've seen you, and I know how you feel. You don't want a relationship, I know. But I still want to tell you-"

He took a deep breath, as though he had made a decision.

"I'll wait for you. Whether you're in Beijing or Boston, whether you want a relationship or not, I'll wait. If the day comes when you do want one, consider me first. If the day comes when you don't want me to wait anymore, just tell me, and I'll leave."

Su Jin was silent for a few seconds, then said, "Chen Shen, do you know I'm going to Boston?"

Chen Shen nodded. "I know. Ji Yunshen told me."

"And you'll still wait?" she asked. "How will you wait when we'll be half a world apart?"

Chen Shen smiled, completely open and frank. "What's a plane for? You already have a private jet. I can buy one too. It's thirteen hours from Beijing to Boston, not that far. Whenever you want to see me, I can fly over anytime. When you don't want to see me, I'll wait in Chengdu."

Su Jin looked at him, a trace of complicated emotion entering her gaze.

She said, "You really are a strange person."

Chen Shen nodded and said with a perfectly straight face, "I know. So will you consider it?"

Su Jin said nothing.

The private room fell quiet, with only the bamboo leaves outside the window rustling in the wind.

The dim yellow light shone between them. The bottle of sake was nearly empty, and most of the food on the table had been eaten.

She suddenly stood.

Chen Shen froze for a moment, then stood up too.

She walked around the table and stopped in front of him, only half a step away.

She raised her head and looked into his eyes. They seemed especially clear in the dim light, holding a direct, undisguised anticipation.

She rose onto her tiptoes.

Chen Shen's whole body went rigid.

Her lips brushed his cheek for an instant, as lightly as a petal landing on water.

Then she stepped back and looked at him, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly.

"That's for you," she said. "Have a safe trip."

Chen Shen stood there as though rooted to the spot. He raised a hand, wanting to touch the place she had just kissed,

Then lowered it again. His face wore an expression it had never shown before: shock, delight, bewilderment, and disbelief all mixed together, making his roguish face look, for once, a little silly.

"Su Jin..." His voice was a little hoarse. "What was that-"

"Nothing." She turned and picked up her coat. "I just think you're a pretty interesting person."

She pushed open the door and left Chen Shen standing alone in the private room, touching his face, unable to come back to his senses for a long time.

Six

At nine the next morning, Su Jin appeared at the visa section of the United States Embassy in China.

She had changed her style again today, wearing an oatmeal-colored Chloé double-faced wool coat with a loose silhouette and a casually tied belt. Underneath was an ivory Equipment silk blouse;

On the bottom were black Joseph dress trousers, and on her feet a pair of nude Gianvito Rossi heels.

Her jewelry was minimalist: only a pair of Tasaki Balance stud earrings, a row of small pearls arranged at varying heights, setting off her delicate earlobes.

Her hair hung loose, and her makeup was neat and appropriate. She looked every bit like a "young scholar with a legitimate reason to visit the United States."

Queuing, submitting documents, giving fingerprints, interviewing-the whole process took less than an hour.

The visa officer was a white woman in her thirties. She flipped through Su Jin's documents, asked a couple of questions-"What are you going to MIT for?" and "Have you been to the United States before?"-then stamped her approval.

When Su Jin stepped out of the embassy, the sunlight was just right.

She stood at the entrance, looking at the passport in her hand, with the visa sticker already affixed inside.

While it was valid, she could fly to Boston at any time and begin a new chapter in her life.

[Host,] Little Golden Egg popped out. [You seem a little reflective?]

Su Jin said nothing. She put her passport in her bag and got into the car waiting nearby.

Seven

At three in the afternoon, Su Jin appeared at The Star, a buyer's boutique in Wangfujing.

This was the final inspection before opening.

Store Manager Chen accompanied her through the floors one by one. The ready-to-wear section on the first floor was fully stocked, the VIP room on the second floor was ready, the offices on the third floor were fully equipped, and the art gallery on the fourth floor was undergoing its final lighting adjustments.

The small fashion show planned for opening day was also in preparation. The models had been chosen, the clothes were in place, and all that remained was to wait for the day to come.

"President Su," Store Manager Chen said, handing her a list, "this is the VIP guest list for opening day. Please take a look."

Su Jin took it and flipped through the pages. Zhao Yu's name was on it, as was Jiang Yao's, along with several fashion industry figures she had met at a party.

On the second page, she saw two familiar names: Meng Qi and Lin Zhi.

She smiled and nodded.

"Looks good," she said. "I'll be there that day."

After she left the boutique, her phone buzzed.

It was a message from Meng Qi: Su Jin!!! I saw the magazine!!! You're so beautiful!!! I'm going to frame your photo and hang it on my wall!!!

She smiled and replied: Don't hang it on your wall. Just keep it in your heart.

Meng Qi replied instantly: Hahahahaha! When are you free? I'll take you to a new French restaurant!

She thought for a moment, then replied: Next week. I have to deal with my study abroad plans over the next few days.

Meng Qi: Study abroad??? Where are you going???

She replied: MIT.

Meng Qi was silent for three seconds, then sent a string of messages:

Holy shit???

MIT???

As in the Massachusetts Institute of Technology???

Aren't you in business? How did you end up studying computer science???

What kind of immortal are you, Su Jin???

Su Jin looked at the string of messages and replied with a smile: Let's talk when we meet.

Eight

At seven that evening, Su Jin arrived at a newly opened French restaurant in Dongsishitiao.

Jiang Yao had arranged the gathering to celebrate the release of her Vogue photo spread.

Seven or eight people were sitting in the private room, including some of Jiang Yao's blogger friends, a few fashion models, and two popular actors.

The moment Su Jin walked in, everyone fell silent for an instant-an instinctive instant of being struck by her beauty.

Jiang Yao was the first to rush over. She grabbed Su Jin's hand, her eyes wide. "Su Jin! You really came! Do you know your photos are flooding the entire internet right now? My Weibo feed is full of your face!"

A girl with dyed pink hair leaned in beside her, undisguised admiration in her voice. "Sister Su, you're so beautiful. That casual white T-shirt and jeans look was incredible. How did you manage to look beautiful, cool, and effortless all at once?"

Su Jin smiled but didn't answer, taking a seat beside Jiang Yao.

The meal was a lively affair. Jiang Yao kept the mood going, telling stories about her embarrassing moments at Paris Fashion Week as she ate and making the whole table roar with laughter.

The two actors occasionally joined the conversation and occasionally whispered to each other. Their gazes landed on Su Jin from time to time, curious and a little awed.

The pink-haired girl was Jiang Yao's assistant. She eagerly poured wine and served food for Su Jin, her eyes full of stars.

Halfway through the meal, Jiang Yao leaned over and lowered her voice. "I heard you're going to MIT?"

Su Jin nodded.

Jiang Yao's eyes widened even further. "Really? Are you going as an exchange student?"

"A visiting scholar," Su Jin said. "I'm studying artificial intelligence."

Jiang Yao fell silent for three seconds, then let out a long sigh. "Su Jin, are you even human? You're so beautiful and so rich, and now you're going to MIT to study artificial intelligence-are you trying to leave ordinary people like us no way to live?"

Su Jin laughed at that and raised her glass to clink it against hers.

Nine

At ten that night, Su Jin returned to her apartment at the China World Trade Center.

She changed, removed her makeup, and took a shower, then stood in her bathrobe before the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out at the dazzling night view.