!
Is that something you can say out loud?!
He Xiaoyuan said, “Keep your voice down.”
Oh, oh.
Qin Chengfei indicated he understood.
He Xiaoyuan was so embarrassed he could practically dig a hole in the ground with his toes.
The two leaned together, and Qin Chengfei continued gossiping. “A partner you know through work?”
He Xiaoyuan thought, you really should stop asking.
He shook his head without answering.
Qin Chengfei: “Don’t tell me it’s a coworker from your company?”
He Xiaoyuan immediately said, “No.”
Just then, a voice suddenly called out, “He Xiaoyuan?”
He Xiaoyuan turned his head. It turned out to be someone from another company he knew in the same field.
The person sat down on He Xiaoyuan’s other side. “What a coincidence, you’re here too.”
Qin Chengfei leaned over He Xiaoyuan to look. The acquaintance also noticed Qin Chengfei, so He Xiaoyuan introduced the two to each other.
Before the salon started, the three of them sat together chatting quietly. The acquaintance He Xiaoyuan knew even added Qin Chengfei on WeChat.
Before long, the seats filled up. The organizer told everyone not to feel constrained—there was food and drinks on site, and people were free to move around. Today was a salon, not a lecture.
With that said, the atmosphere loosened. Quite a few people stood up to grab something to eat.
The acquaintance on He Xiaoyuan’s left said quietly to him, “That’s what they say, but they won’t really prepare a buffet. It’s just cake and drinks.”
He Xiaoyuan smiled. “No one’s really here to eat anyway.”
The acquaintance joked, “If they did prepare it, I’d eat. If they’re talking up there while I’m burping down here, that’s not my problem.”
Qin Chengfei said, “Let’s see what there is to drink.”
The three of them stood up.
After waiting another quarter of an hour or so, while the audience was buzzing with idle conversation, a man in his forties, wearing a suit, of average build, and full of energy, strode up onto the stage.
It was none other than Lin Xuhan, a well-known investor in the circle.
As soon as Lin Xuhan appeared, applause broke out, and some people even called out, “President Lin.”
Lin Xuhan took off his suit jacket and clasped his hands together toward the audience, both thanking them for the applause and greeting everyone.
Soon, two other guests arrived as well, and the salon officially began…
He Xiaoyuan listened attentively. This kind of free-flowing roundtable discussion wasn’t something one could encounter often. What the big names discussed was either high-level decision-making, industry trends, or their own insights and experiences. Sharing it openly at a salon was, in a sense, a transmission of experience, and it was immensely beneficial.
Everyone listened seriously; some people were even taking notes. When the discussion turned to lighter, amusing topics, laughter rippled through the room, revealing the big shots’ humorous side.
He Xiaoyuan couldn’t help thinking of Lu Chen, feeling that truly capable people were often the most relaxed.
He also couldn’t help wondering—was it because they were capable that they could remain relaxed?
Or was it because they inherently knew how to balance tension and ease that they were able to better command their work and careers?
Deep down, He Xiaoyuan genuinely felt that these people were all impressive.
And sure enough, as the discussion continued, it eventually turned to ChatGPT, the recent hot topic. Having anticipated this, He Xiaoyuan and Qin Chengfei exchanged a knowing look.
Listening on, something almost magical happened—many of the points being made were exactly the same ones Lu Chen had discussed with He Xiaoyuan before, which He Xiaoyuan had then relayed to Qin Chengfei.
Qin Chengfei looked at He Xiaoyuan again.
Leaning closer, covering his mouth, he whispered, “The person who told you all this must be a big shot too.”
He Xiaoyuan neither nodded nor shook his head, just gestured for Qin Chengfei to keep listening.
Then, as they listened, the people on stage—Lin Xuhan and the others—grew more and more animated. Lin Xuhan suddenly announced on the spot that he would definitely create a domestic version of ChatGPT.
Not only would he do it, and not only was it just talk—he had already decided to personally invest sixty-five million. At that point, he would welcome investment from all parties and technical teams to join in building a domestic version of ChatGPT together.
That single statement detonated the room, and discussions immediately erupted throughout the audience.
Qin Chengfei leaned closer to He Xiaoyuan. “Exactly what you said—not a word off. The investors set up the plate first, then figure out the rest.”
He Xiaoyuan was just about to speak when he hadn’t even opened his mouth yet—Qin Chengfei suddenly shot his hand straight up.
He Xiaoyuan: ?
Everyone else turned to look as well, and the big shots on stage gave Qin Chengfei the chance to speak.
Qin Chengfei stood up, calm and composed, his words firm and clear. “If you personally invest sixty-five million RMB, what scale are you planning to raise on top of that? Two or three hundred million? Five or six hundred million? Or even more?”
“As everyone knows, the more money that comes in, the higher the equity stake.”
“So how much equity will the technical team receive through technical contribution? If it’s too low, won’t that hamper productivity across the entire process?”
“And there’s another point. For a large-scale model like this, a single run can cost hundreds of millions. Will your personal investment and the subsequent funding rounds you mentioned actually be enough?”
“Or is your goal simply to use this to go public first, and deal with the rest of the problems later?”
He Xiaoyuan: “………………”
The entire room fell silent.
Sitting next to him, He Xiaoyuan desperately wanted to raise a hand and cover his face—this guy really hadn’t changed at all. Still the same “straight-shooter” who, back then, marched straight into the HR manager’s office just because he didn’t get first place in the management trainee program.
These were the kinds of things you thought about privately, maybe discussed among yourselves. Why say them out loud?
Saying this was basically a public diss of the big names on stage, especially Lin Xuhan—accusing them of nothing more than building a shell company to go public and cash out.
The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. It was so awkward He Xiaoyuan just wanted to hide his face.
Qin Chengfei, on the other hand, calmly sat back down after finishing, relaxed and completely unburdened, as if what he had just said were compliments rather than a diss.
He Xiaoyuan glanced at him. Qin Chengfei looked back, easygoing, as if to say: I’m done. Not bad, right?
He Xiaoyuan: “……”
Utterly painful to watch.
Only then did the big shots on stage break the awkwardness with smiles and a few words to gloss over the topic.
Lin Xuhan’s response was that money was indeed an issue—he didn’t deny that—but neither the domestic market nor the industry lacked capital. The funding needed to build a domestic version of ChatGPT would definitely be resolved when the time came.
Hearing this, He Xiaoyuan and Qin Chengfei exchanged looks again—if the country and the industry didn’t lack money, what did that have to do with this so-called leader who claimed he’d invest sixty-five million himself?
Wasn’t that basically saying nothing at all?
Seeing Qin Chengfei about to move again, He Xiaoyuan immediately shot him a warning look: Don’t raise your hand! Hold it in!
And then, completely unexpectedly, He Xiaoyuan suddenly heard Lu Chen’s name.
Whether it was to change the subject or for some other reason, Lin Xuhan and the others started talking about Spiris. Once Spiris came up, Lu Chen’s name followed immediately. They mentioned that Lu Chen had privately visited the AI company behind ChatGPT a couple of years earlier, and that Spiris might already be deeply involved in natural language development.
They even joked that Lu Chen was the kind of person who did big things quietly, without making a sound.
He Xiaoyuan froze and looked at Qin Chengfei again. What Qin Chengfei was thinking, he didn’t know. But as He Xiaoyuan listened—aside from the surprise of hearing Lu Chen’s name and their discussion about him—he felt that something was off, subtly wrong.
Thinking it over quietly, he realized what didn’t make sense.
If they were talking about Spiris, then anyone making a domestic version of ChatGPT wouldn’t be Lu Chen personally, but the company behind him.
So why, when Lin Xuhan talked about this, did he mention Lu Chen instead of Tang Xingzhou, President Tang?
Wasn’t Tang Xingzhou the CEO of Spiris?
Could it be that Lu Chen’s name, as a project lead, was already just as well known within the industry?
Or that if Spiris were to do a domestic ChatGPT, Lu Chen would be given full responsibility?
So when they talked about Spiris, they went straight to Lu Chen?
?
He Xiaoyuan couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right.
At that moment, Lin Xuhan and the others asked which company Qin Chengfei was from.
Qin Chengfei answered, “Spiris.”
The group laughed and joked:
“Got it—here to crash the party.”
“What you said just now really did sound a bit like Lu Chen.”
“Is that how Lu Chen shuts people down?”
“Not exactly, but President Lu is definitely forceful when he does things. I’m honestly a little scared of him.”
…
Listening to this, He Xiaoyuan picked up on a different flavor entirely—wow, my boyfriend is that impressive.
He Xiaoyuan smiled to himself.
Qin Chengfei asked him what he was smiling about. He Xiaoyuan lowered his voice. “I’m laughing because you’d better take a detour if you ever run into Lin Xuhan on a project in the future.”
Qin Chengfei asked innocently, “Did I offend him?”
What do you think?
He Xiaoyuan said, “Think about it yourself.”
The acquaintance sitting on He Xiaoyuan’s left leaned over. “Who is Lu Chen?”
He Xiaoyuan replied, “Our team lead.”
Qin Chengfei added, “The big boss.”
He Xiaoyuan paused and shot Qin Chengfei a puzzled look.
Everyone always called Lu Chen the big boss—out loud and in group chats alike. While “boss” did literally mean boss, and “big boss” could indeed be translated as “the big boss,” why was Qin Chengfei putting it that way?
Wasn’t that likely to make people misunderstand?
Sure enough, the acquaintance said, “Isn’t Tang Xingzhou the boss of Spiris?”
He Xiaoyuan explained quietly, “President Tang is the CEO. We usually just call President Lu the big boss.”
This time, it was Qin Chengfei who looked strangely at He Xiaoyuan: ? Why did he put it like that? President Lu was clearly the boss.
But this was just a tiny, insignificant exchange. They moved on and forgot about it, and no one paid it any further mind.
After the salon ended, He Xiaoyuan, Qin Chengfei, and the acquaintance didn’t split up. They went for a late-night meal nearby.
As they ate and chatted, He Xiaoyuan sent Lu Chen a message, telling him he was having late-night food with Qin Chengfei and the others, would be home late, and wouldn’t be going over to Lu Chen’s place afterward.
Lu Chen: “Okay.”
Lu Chen: “Don’t drink too much.”
Lu Chen: “Did you drive? If you did, get a designated driver later. Don’t drive yourself.”
He Xiaoyuan: “Didn’t drink. We’re eating Xinjiang food—lamb skewers, with Coke.”
While the other two were chatting, He Xiaoyuan found a moment to message Lu Chen: “At today’s salon, Lin Xuhan and the others even talked about you.”
Lu Chen: “Hmm?”
He Xiaoyuan: “They said you once had a private visit to OpenAI, and that you might already be working on a domestic version of ChatGPT.”
Lu Chen: “Is that so.”
Just from that “is that so,” He Xiaoyuan could already picture Lu Chen smiling faintly on the other end of the phone.
He Xiaoyuan smiled too. “Is it? Then are you?”
After sending the message, he set his phone aside for a bit, took a bite of food, and chatted with Qin Chengfei and the others.
When he picked his phone up again, Lu Chen had replied: “Yes.”
He Xiaoyuan’s eyes flew wide open.
Yes?
He Xiaoyuan: “?????????????”
He Xiaoyuan: “Really?”
Lu Chen: “Mm. Really.”
Phone in hand, He Xiaoyuan sprang to his feet.
Qin Chengfei and the acquaintance sitting across from him both looked over.
He Xiaoyuan said, “I’m going to step outside to make a call.”
Outside the restaurant, by the roadside, He Xiaoyuan called Lu Chen. It connected after a single ring. “Hello,” came Lu Chen’s unhurried, low voice.
He Xiaoyuan’s tone lifted brightly. “Really?”
“There’s no reason to lie to you about this,” Lu Chen said.
He Xiaoyuan asked again, delighted, “Really?!”
It was too much of a pleasant surprise.
Lu Chen laughed on the other end and affirmed it. “Mm. Really. Not bragging.”
As if afraid someone might overhear, He Xiaoyuan raised a hand to cover his mouth, lowering his voice as he walked toward the shadow under a tree. “When did it start? How long has it been going on? I’ve never seen this project in the backend directory.”
“Is it company confidential?”
“And you can tell me about this?”
Lu Chen replied calmly, “If it’s you, then it’s you. There’s nothing I can’t tell you.”
“Almost two years now. Not that long.”
“The business was spun off outside the company, so not many people know.”
He Xiaoyuan was so thrilled he was happier than if he’d landed a project himself.
“No wonder you sounded so certain when you talked to me about this last time.”
Lu Chen said, “We didn’t go into much detail last time. We were still in the model-training phase, and I’m not a technical specialist myself, so there was only so much I could discuss with you.”
He Xiaoyuan looked especially interested. “Two years already—then the company must have spent a lot of money. Did we bring in investors and raise funding, or are we doing it ourselves?”
Lu Chen replied, “No fundraising. There’s no need to pull in capital. The technical side holds a higher equity stake to begin with. We’ve spent some money, but it’s fine—still within budget.”
…
After finishing the call, He Xiaoyuan returned to the restaurant beaming. Anyone who didn’t know better would’ve thought he’d gone to the bathroom and had the time of his life.
Qin Chengfei took one look and knew he must’ve had a happy call with his boyfriend.
Sure enough, once He Xiaoyuan sat down, he raised his glass and said, “Come on—let’s drink to Spiris.”
The acquaintance: ?
Qin Chengfei raised his glass too: ?
What was that about?
He Xiaoyuan said, “Just wishing the company better and better, smooth sailing all the way.”
—
He Xiaoyuan had originally planned to head straight home after the late-night snack—it was already quite late.
But after learning that the company was developing a domestic version of ChatGPT on its own, and had even been at it for two years already, far ahead of domestic competitors, he got so excited he couldn’t calm down. Late at night, he still went to Yanlan Bay.
In the elevator, he checked the time and saw it was almost midnight. He wondered if Lu Chen had already gone to bed.
Had he fallen asleep?
No good-night message—so probably not asleep yet.
When the elevator doors opened, the lights on the first floor were already off, with only the floor lights on.
He Xiaoyuan slipped off his shoes and tiptoed toward the stairs, then quietly went upstairs. The second floor also had only floor lights on. There was no light coming through the glass wall of the master bedroom, making it hard to tell if Lu Chen was asleep, but at least he was back in the room.
He Xiaoyuan stopped at the master bedroom door and knocked softly. No response. He knocked again, gently. “Ge?”
He slowly pushed the door open, his gaze and head poking in first.
Looking closely, he saw the bedside lamp was on. Lu Chen wasn’t asleep—he was leaning against the headboard and looked up.
Seeing it was He Xiaoyuan, Lu Chen smiled. “I thought a little mouse had come in. I was wondering why He He hadn’t come out to catch it.”
“You’re not asleep,” He Xiaoyuan said as he pushed the door open and went in.
Lu Chen raised a hand, signaling him to come over, and asked, “Didn’t you say you weren’t coming over?”
He Xiaoyuan walked to the bed and sat down. “After what you told me tonight, I got curious, so I came.”
Lu Chen smiled, his face full of indulgence. “So the curious little baby came after all.”
As he spoke, he sat up. “Kiss me.”
He Xiaoyuan lifted his chin and kissed him once. One kiss wasn’t enough—there was a second, a third, a fourth.
He Xiaoyuan laughed as he kissed him. “Don’t you think it tastes funny? I ate a ton of lamb skewers tonight.”
There really was a bit of a charcoal-smoked flavor. Lu Chen lowered his voice, fingers resting under He Xiaoyuan’s chin, kissing him as he said, “Perfect. Let me have a taste too.”