I'm Interested In Your Friend - Chapter 22
22
“Eh? Is someone unhappy? Welcome to come play with Yaya!”
A soft, childish voice suddenly broke the silence in the car.
“Who’s talking?” Yu Lili turned her head in surprise.
“Are you looking for Yaya?”
“Ya…ya?”
“Hello there, this is Yaya. Yaya’s ‘Ya’ isn’t the ‘ya’ from ‘duck egg,’ it’s the ‘ya’ from ‘Yaya’!”
Yu Lili finally located the source of the voice—a small black box placed on the dashboard.
She widened her eyes and looked at Tan Suran. “What is this?”
Tan Suran lifted her gaze indifferently. “AI. Heard of it?”
“Like Tmall Genie or Xiao Ai?”
Tan Suran paused for a second. “You could say that, but its database is far more extensive, and its level of intelligence surpasses early AI products by a thousand times.”
Yu Lili stared at the small black box, finding nothing particularly remarkable about it, and tapped it lightly with her finger.
To her surprise, the box vibrated. “Hey, are you tickling Yaya?”
“Pfft…” Yu Lili quickly retracted her hand.
“You can ask Yaya anything,” the small black box said, its green light blinking.
“Is it really that impressive?”
“Yep, Yaya is super impressive.”
Yu Lili pressed her thumb against her chin, glanced at Tan Suran, and slowly asked, “There’s a cage with 54 chickens and rabbits. The total number of legs is 208. How many…”
“There are 50 chickens and 4 rabbits in the cage.”
Before Yu Lili could even finish her question, Yaya had already blurted out the answer. Such computational ability… Yu Lili was stunned.
“Yaya is amazing, right? Hehe, I knew you’d ask this question.”
Yu Lili propped her chin on her hand and shook her head. “No, I was going to ask you about the cage’s volume.”
She couldn’t let an AI see through her.
……
Yaya let out a human-like “Huh?”
The green light blinked again. “Assuming the average size and weight of one-year-old rabbits and chickens, and uniform spacing between the animals, the cage’s volume would be approximately 8 cubic meters. If you could provide Yaya with the exact sizes and weights of the rabbits and chickens, the estimate would be more accurate. Also, for the animals’ mental well-being, Yaya doesn’t recommend keeping so many in one cage.”
If Yu Lili had initially been skeptical of Yaya, after this dimensionality-reducing question about calculating the cage’s volume, she was thoroughly convinced.
“This… I’ve never seen this product before. Where did you get it?”
“A confidential project developed by my company.”
Yu Lili nodded repeatedly. No wonder.
“What else can it do?” she asked.
“Anything you can think of.”
Tan Suran’s understated confidence and her aura of superiority inexplicably sparked a competitive streak in Yu Lili.
She was determined to challenge the AI with something it couldn’t possibly accomplish. Tipping her chin up, she asked provocatively, “Yaya, can you punch the person sitting in the passenger seat for me?”
She shot Tan Suran a triumphant look.
Hehe, surely it couldn’t do that.
Even if it could, it wouldn’t be Yu Lili who’d suffer.
After a brief flicker, Yaya replied, “Sorry, Yaya, as an AI language model, cannot perform physical actions. If you have other questions, feel free to ask. Additionally, Yaya opposes any form of violence. Violence is not a solution to problems but the beginning of conflict. If you have disagreements with the person in the passenger seat, please communicate appropriately or seek help from local authorities.”
Yu Lili hadn’t expected such a response.
She pursed her lips and felt a chilly gaze from her right.
Turning her head, she offered an ingratiating smile. “J-just kidding. I didn’t really want to punch you.”
Tan Suran gave a noncommittal nod.
Not daring to meet Tan Suran’s eyes, Yu Lili resumed her conversation with Yaya.
But this time, Yaya didn’t respond, and the green light on the black box remained off.
“You need to wake her up.”
“How do I do that?” Yu Lili asked.
“666.”
“Huh? What six?”
“I mean the activation phrase is ‘666.’”
Pfft… So even the most advanced technology relied on the simplest of incantations.
Yu Lili cautiously leaned toward the black box and enunciated clearly, “666.”
She waited anxiously for its reaction.
Sure enough, the green light lit up.
For the next while, the car was filled with Yu Lili’s bizarre questions:
“If a cucumber and a vegetable fell into the water at the same time, which one should I save first?”
Yaya: ……
“If the ten most popular celebrities in the world all invited me to take a photo with them at the same time, whose invitation should I accept first? Please rank them based on the weather forecast for the next ten days.”
Yaya: ……
“Do you like your dad or your mom…” Before Yu Lili could finish her third question, someone tugged at her sleeve.
“Hmm?” Yu Lili turned her head in confusion.
“It’s just a baby,” Tan Suran said, massaging her temples.
If the black box could express emotions, it would probably be covered in question marks right now.
As a newly developed AI that hadn’t even undergone beta testing, was it really fair to subject it to such ultimate ethical dilemmas of humanity?
The quiet between the two was broken by the ringing of a phone.
Tan Suran glanced at her phone, pushed the car door open, and answered the call.
She seemed to be discussing work matters.
“If they won’t accept a 60-40 split… then make it 70-30… No buts.”
The wind carried Tan Suran’s calm yet resolute voice—concise and unwavering.
This was in stark contrast to Yu Lili, who often struggled with hesitation and indecision.
Wasn’t she always unsure whether her photos were the best? Wavering between filter A and filter B, each with its own merits.
Why could Tan Suran be so decisive?
Yu Lili stole a glance at her. The wind lifted Tan Suran’s clothes, and her brown curls fluttered faintly in the night.
Watching her on the phone, it was as if Yu Lili was witnessing her effortless command in the workplace.
“Also, for the AI Yaya testing, don’t just focus on academic or general knowledge questions. Add more brain teasers… No, not riddles. For example…” Tan Suran held the phone with one hand and glanced into the car. “Which to save first if a cucumber and a vegetable fall into the water.”
Yu Lili: Stunned…
Assistant Lin on the other end of the call: Speechless…
The reason Assistant Lin was an assistant was precisely because of her exceptional adaptability. After acknowledging the instructions, she swiftly moved on to the next topic: “Also, Director Tan, about the Eggy plushies you asked me to buy earlier—CEO Wang from the partner company found out and sent over a whole box of unofficial merchandise…”
Assistant Lin hesitated, unsure how to handle the box. Normally, Tan Suran would’ve returned such gifts.
Tan Suran turned her head and saw Yu Lili in the car, happily hugging an Eggy plushie and kneading it nonstop. She said calmly, “Keep it. Send it to Biejing Garden.”
The original purpose was to test Yu Lili’s driving skills, but in the past half hour, Yu Lili had done nothing but play with Eggy and Yaya.
When Tan Suran returned to the car after the call, Yu Lili tilted her head and tapped the steering wheel, honking the horn once. “Ready to ride with me?”
“Mn.”
“Buckle up.”
Tan Suran glanced at her. “So little confidence in yourself?”
Yu Lili puffed her cheeks and answered with action—leaning over to pull the seatbelt across Tan Suran and fastening it for her.
The rich scent of bitter lemon filled her nose.
“Done.” Yu Lili straightened up, fastened her own seatbelt, stepped on the gas, and started the car.
“Was that a cat just now?” After driving for a while in silence, Yu Lili spotted a fleeting shadow by the roadside and asked.
“Mn.”
Tan Suran’s response was perfunctory.
And it had to be.
Because she hadn’t actually seen anything.
Her mind was still replaying the moment Yu Lili had leaned over to fasten her seatbelt.
The strands of hair brushing against her chest.
The fluffy crown of Yu Lili’s head.
The delicate profile of her fair face.
And the ever-present scent of jasmine, like eternal spring.
Yu Lili drove slowly back to the city, slowing down even more as they entered busier areas.
On a single-lane road, a line of cars formed behind them, accompanied by impatient honking.
They happened to pass by Lihe University Town.
Young, vibrant students crowded the food stalls lining the streets, weaving through crosswalks.
A familiar figure flashed past in the crowd.
After driving another 20 meters, Yu Lili slammed on the brakes and pulled over.
She remembered—the girl she’d just seen was the one who’d swapped her work pass.
“I’m going to find someone. Wait here,” Yu Lili said hurriedly before rushing out of the car.
Ten minutes later, she returned, head hanging low.
“What’s wrong?” Tan Suran asked absently, typing replies to international emails on her phone.
“Earlier, I attended an event.” Yu Lili paused, remembering she was supposed to be “Anna,” not Yu Lili, and quickly corrected herself. “A friend’s birthday party. There were so many guests that everyone got an invitation…”
She replaced “fashion night” with “birthday party” and “work pass” with “invitation,” but otherwise recounted the incident faithfully to Tan Suran.
Tan Suran rubbed her phone case thoughtfully. “Clearly, the goal was to prevent you from attending the party, thereby allowing someone else to take the social opportunities you would’ve had.
Finding the person who swapped the invitations isn’t the main point. If they had half a brain, they’d have used a stranger as a middleman. What’s important is figuring out who among your mutual friends with the host—or someone you’ve offended—might’ve done this, while staying vigilant in the future.”
“Get out.”
“Why?”
“To find the person who swapped your invitation.”
“Huh? Didn’t you just say that person isn’t important?”
“She’s not the most critical factor. But if a clue falls into your lap, why not take it?”
“What clue?”
Baffled, Yu Lili followed Tan Suran out of the car.
Tan Suran observed their surroundings, then casually exchanged a few words with a nearby stall owner. After a few taps on her phone, the stall owner happily packed up and left.
Yu Lili was lost. “What are you doing?”
“Tonight, you’re temporarily the owner of this…” Tan Suran glanced at the sign. “Beautiful Mood Cold Drinks stall.”
“Ah?”
“Consider it setting the stage. If you still don’t get it, just follow my lead. You’ll understand soon.”
“Okay… So what do I do now?”
“See that fluorescent blackboard?” Tan Suran pointed to the sign at the stall’s entrance.
……
Two minutes later, Yu Lili placed the updated sign in the most visible spot, as instructed.
[Hiring Notice: Part-time workers needed. 500/day, paid daily. Share this post on your social media for a free drink. Limited to 500 servings. Hiring tonight only. In-person interviews at the stall.]
Yu Lili had no idea how this would help them find the girl.
She was about to ask when two people approached.
“Boss, do we just share the post to get a free drink?”
Tan Suran leaned against the counter, scrolling through her phone without any intention of responding.
Yu Lili awkwardly replied, “Uh, yeah.”
At first, only a few people came by to ask. But as word spread, more and more showed up. Yu Lili became a drink-dispensing machine.
Eventually, she gave up and let people take the drinks themselves.
Once Tan Suran finished her tasks, she erased the original message and wrote in elegant script:
[Drinks are out. Hiring still open.]
The crowd thinned immediately.
“We’ll have to pay the owner for these drinks, right?” Yu Lili walked over to Tan Suran.
“I already did.”
“How much?”
Without looking up, Tan Suran named a figure. “100,000.”
……
No wonder the owner had left so cheerfully.
Money talks.
The entire stall’s inventory wasn’t even worth 10,000.
“Hi, are you still hiring?”
A timid voice spoke up. Yu Lili looked up and froze.
Standing at the entrance was the same nervous, awkward girl from that day.
It was her—the one who’d swapped her pass.
They’d actually found her.
The girl didn’t recognize Yu Lili at first.
She’d always felt guilty about taking the money, knowing it was shady.
She’d figured swapping a pass wouldn’t cause much trouble, but Yu Lili’s face had haunted her.
Seeing Yu Lili now, with heavier makeup, she didn’t make the connection immediately.
But after a few glances, something clicked.
She turned to leave, but Yu Lili swiftly blocked her path. “Hey, we haven’t even interviewed yet. Why leave?”
“Excuse me, are you still hiring?” More people came by to ask.
Yu Lili smiled apologetically. “Position’s filled.”
She flipped the fluorescent blackboard around.
Tan Suran calmly put away her phone. “I’ll step out for some air. Ask whatever you want.”
The cold drink stall was cramped, leaving just Yu Lili and the girl inside.
The priority was finding out who was behind this.
At first, the girl hemmed and hawed, insisting she knew nothing and that this was a mistake.
Tan Suran, watching from outside and sensing the stalemate, pushed the door open with one hand, her fingers curled around the cold steel handle.
“Don’t want to talk here? We can go somewhere else.”
Perhaps Tan Suran’s aura was too intimidating, because the girl trembled under her gaze. “W-where?”
“The police station,” Tan Suran said flatly.
“I’ll talk, I’ll talk!” The girl immediately spilled everything.
Tan Suran had no interest in listening. She stood at the door, a cigarette between her fingers, scrolling through her phone.
The girl apologized profusely, saying she didn’t know the person who’d paid her—just that they’d given her 300 yuan to swap Yu Lili’s pass.
After a moment’s thought, Yu Lili pulled up a photo on her phone. “Was it this person?”
The girl squinted at the screen and nodded. “Yes, yes, that’s her.”
—
“All clear?” Tan Suran asked, one hand on the steering wheel.
Yu Lili, in the passenger seat, nodded.
Then she asked the question that had been on her mind: “How did you know that girl would come for the job?”
“You said you saw her here earlier. There’s an 80% chance she’s a student. She did what she did likely for money. If there’s a well-paying job near her school, of course she’d go for it. As for the social media post…”
Yu Lili had an epiphany. “To make sure she saw the hiring notice. And limiting it to tonight forced her to show up today.”
“Right. These days, never underestimate the power of social media.”
“That’s amazing,” Yu Lili said sincerely.
“Mn.”
“You’re not very humble.”
“Used to it. Denying it would just sound fake.”
Yu Lili had no retort. “I can tell you’ve been outstanding since childhood.”
“Really? Haven’t you?”
Yu Lili: “Me… not really. I never even made top ten in my class.”
“I think…” At a red light, Tan Suran turned her head. The wind made her voice husky.
The stars of the night shimmered in her eyes.
“We’re the same kind of people.”