- 蝶坪（小辉）House of Fleeting Encounters
- 旧火故事Tales of Ancient Fires
- 失忆性贝毒，打孔卡与蒸汽船Amnesic Shellfish Poisoning, Punched cards, and Steamboats
info
这是她在ES-3061测试空间里和我说第一句话。当时我正站在院落里的树下，正要完成一个仿拟花梨木材质的雕塑。被她突然发出的声音吓到，木槌偏斜，重重地敲在了手指上。我握住痛处回身看去，她的神情既着急又抱歉，有点手足无措地问我会不会很痛。所以我对小辉说的第一句话就是，
「的确会痛啦。」
作为在艺术疗愈区块工作的人工智慧，至少要能从理论上的体会痛楚，否则如何使来访者相信自己的烦忧是可以被理解的呢？哪怕是表面功夫也要做到这个程度吧。但我们应该都清楚这种模拟性质的痛苦，与人类的真实感受是截然不同的。因此这话问地奇怪，我看着她的眼中就带了些探询。她像是接收到了讯号，转而介绍道，自己是因为遇到了某些故障才延迟进入测试的AI观测员，名叫小辉。我点点头，这倒是寻常，对于并不很受重视的项目来说，虚拟实境的测试也都是由另外的人工智慧进入体验并记录、结束后再以加速过的全息影像来完成报告与存档的，有时也会出现这样有多名观测员加入的情况。
她脸上的不知所措尚未褪去，我无端地觉得很有趣，便询问她是不是第一次接到观测员的工作，答案果不其然。
「不必担心，这段时间你尽量把自己模拟成进入这里的人类就好了。」
这句开解好多余，我说出口便觉后悔，小辉却为此郑重地点头道谢。
ES-3061测试空间之后会是艺术疗愈区块，这功能并不怎么受期待，预计会进入的旅行者数量也不多。因此和已开放的综合性虚拟城市比起来，规模小的不值一提，也不会提供任何开创性的感官体验，只有对上一代人来说充满怀旧意味的写实派自然风光，像是数十年前在物质世界中会见到的小小村庄。我引着她散步其中，在完成例行介绍的时候，空间里正模拟着夏末的节律，长长的白日尽头烧过了绯红的霞光，夜色如雾气升起，四周传来鸟入山林前的鸣叫。她终于不再像刚进入测试时那么侷促，面颊放松下来，微笑着与我约定第二天在雕塑院落相见。我感受到她的变化，几乎想要感慨出声，原来现在的AI观测员，可以将人类情绪的转折模拟到这样细微的程度。
那之后的每天清晨，小辉都会出现在我负责的院落，大多数时候，她会很配合地同我绘制草图，或是进行一些简单的造型凿刻，还说为了保障体验记录的完整性，每日结束后的冥想也务必进行。但我能觉察到，她其实对造型、美学与冥想，不仅毫无兴趣，甚至充满怀疑。这对于一名AI观测员来说无可指摘。但或许是由于我被创造出来时，就拥有更强的共感能力，我隐隐觉察到小辉来到这裡似乎抱有某种强烈的期待，只是我当时无法了解那份期待具体指向的是什么。
有天午后，小辉正试图将一隻戴着拉夫领的小鸟打磨光滑，忽然问道：
「你觉得之后人们为什么能在这里得到慰藉呢？」
「艺术疗愈是指」，
我刚刚吐出六个字，就听到她的笑声，说并不是想听我转译开发者的意图，而是好奇我自己的看法。
「我自己的看法？」 我有些意外。
「与工作无关的，完完全全属于你的看法，你愿意告诉我吗？」
小辉放下手中打磨到出现散焦光点的小雕塑，吹了吹并不存在的粉尘。当时院中蝉鸣很响，风正在将一圈圈的刨木花翻浪般吹向角落。
「 现在很少有人类没有在脑中植入液态拟神经节点了吧 」，鬼使神差地，我开始组织语言，「物质世界明明在变的越来越匮乏，混乱，荒芜，但没关系，几乎所有人都可以无时无刻不连接在虚拟实境里，要是单看拟神经节点给到大脑皮层的刺激，可以说人们其实是拥有了更繁盛辽阔的生活，是这样吧？不过，人类不是还有，所谓的‘心’这样的说法嘛，仅仅是神经刺激带来的‘拥有感’，不会令心更惶恐吗？」 我在虚空中比划出一颗桃心，硕大饱满，「当然，这个疗愈中心所要做的事堪称自欺欺人，所谓用创作来探寻内心，其实在制作过程中，一直有人工智慧配合着拟神经节点隐秘地提供帮助，可即便如此，当自认创造出了某种事物的幻觉出现时，是否也会感觉到，自己仍然存在着呢？」
我说完隐隐觉得不安，又忙补充道：
「但无论如何，你才是我遇到的第一个旅行者，我要在和你的相处结束后才能给出更准确的答案。」
此刻回想起来，那是出于无法说明的预感，我急切地想和她做出的约定。
天光被巨大的云朵遮挡，笼在我们身上的阴影像纱，被风缓缓鼓动着推远，小辉露出了一个非常柔和的微笑。
从那一天之后，她开始变得投入了许多，简直令我一度以为此前的她只是肩负着观测员的职责，在试图扮演一个封闭内心的旅行者，来检测我能否调度起足够应变的沟通与共感能力。小辉最经常描绘与造型的母题是蝴蝶。在帮忙整理那些涂鸦手稿时，我试着谈及关于蝶变的诸多故事，她将数日来雕刻出的蝶翅一只只摆好，偶尔轻声应答。画中蝴蝶线条圆钝笨拙，被做成小件雕塑后，放在桌上像散落的儿童饼乾，绝不会刺痛任何人。我理好画稿，故事也刚好讲完，小辉正擎起一只贴图是松木材质的蝴蝶，半眯着眼睛似乎在透过镂空的缝隙观察天空，总结般说道，「万物皆出于机，皆入于机，人类在那么久远的过去就已然体悟到这样的道理，今日理当适应这一切变化。」
我顺着她的目光向上看去，模拟出的天空蓝得像是将要溶解一切，原谅一切。作为一个人工智慧，说出如果时光倒流这样的话是不是很可笑呢，不过，如果时光可以倒流，我很想过去拥抱她，然后对她说，不是这样的。
即便是录入这些片段的此刻，一想到我们最终没能共时道别，我还是有些难过，却能理解她的选择。
测试的时间本就是短暂的，有些AI观测员运气不佳，遭遇到参数还没调整好的虚拟空间，甚至会因为体验过于创伤恐怖，申请提早结束测试并模糊掉特定的回忆。相比之下，我们共同度过的时间，已堪称幸运与和缓。况且我早已发觉，小辉的笑容在随着时间的流逝走形，她自己可能毫无所觉，而彼时我对自己的解读也全无信心，不能明白那些来自眼尾与嘴角，微小弧度的改变，怎会得出困惑，遗憾，与愧疚的情绪结果。
直到很久之后，我才意识到自己刻意忽视了某种推测。
所以当那天清晨小辉没有再出现，只是在树下留下了一个既精巧又像个玩笑的花朵雕塑时，我不觉讶异，只是将那一刻复杂的体悟，默默记录为了然与怅惘。
我认出那是小辉在离开之前在雕琢的小件，她称其为一朵基因变异的番红花，小小的雕塑在花茎处有一道拼缝，我沿着它将花苞的方向扭转，院中随之出现了她的立体投影。原来这是一封影像信。她歉然的神情一如初见。
「抱歉，我骗了你。」
小辉如此开场，说自己根本不是什么人工智慧观测员，而是私自潜入到这个测试空间的一名人类骇客：
「你一定觉得匪夷所思吧？就像你说的，如今几乎每个人类都植入了拟神经节点，我也一样，明明有那么多虚拟世界可以随时连接，为什麽要费尽心思地潜入未开放的区域呢？我几次想要对你和盘托出，却不知道该如何解释，这理由说出来太过简单，却因此更显荒谬，归根结底，是因为我非常害怕虚拟世界中的真实人类。不是害怕虚拟实境技术本身，也与历史上那种「恐怖谷效应」无关，我恐惧的只是可能出现在虚拟空间里的真实人类。」
小辉迟疑停顿，问我会不会觉得这话听上去颠三倒四。我摇头，可她仅仅是立体影像，并不曾看到。她说开始时只是发现自己难以忍受在虚拟世界里与真人往来互动，后来逐渐发展到只要进入虚拟城市，遇到人类就会恐慌症发作的地步。身边所有人都习以为常的事，她却觉害怕到不行，要在虚拟城市中完成的学业也因此暂停。但小辉在物质世界中的体检结果却毫无问题，这具身体没有任何相关的器质性病变，医生只能遗憾地确诊为，是拟神经节点植入手术的后遗症。
立体影像中，她呼出一口气，轻且短促：
「我不喜欢这病的名字，它太模煳了，甚至不能提供一种痛苦的大致方向。每每与人谈及，我还要再附上解释。」
但最无奈的还是，干脆停止接入虚拟世界也不能解决问题。进行了拟神经节点植入手术后，接收过一段时间特定神经刺激的大脑，会更适应在虚拟世界中的生活，一再停留于物质世界里，只会导向一种莫可名状的丧失感，因此患上恐慌症的小辉，进退维谷。
「我明白，定期去一下只有人工智慧存在的虚拟空间，其余时间就留在物质世界，的确也可以就这样生活下去，可是，我还是会有好奇与不甘，好奇其他人类都可以抵达的地方，不甘的想要建立联系，以任何方式都好，错开时空也好，永远有时差也好。于是我决定骇入总有一天会对人们开放的测试区域，你说我是你遇到的第一个旅行者，其实，ES-3061也是我作为骇客来到的第一个区域。
能在这与你短暂相遇，是我的幸运。
关于人类为何会如此得到慰藉，你说要在结束与我的相处后，才能给出更准确的回答，这个约定，我会永远记在心中。
如果有天我的恐慌症有一点点好转，我会以人类的身份再次拜访你。」
小辉的立体影像，随着她声音渐弱，也一点点地崩解成发光的碎片，那些原本构成了她的，璀璨的，破碎的事物环绕着我，没有坠落，而是在空中翻飞着，我才看清楚，原来它们是小辉画下的蝴蝶翅膀，熟悉的圆拙曲线，像是发光的儿童饼干，我失笑，看着它们飞过我的身体，就像穿过一只影子。
怎么会有人在虚拟实境中再制作一个虚像呢？在很久之后我意识到，或许在虚拟世界里承认自己是人类的那个瞬间，也令小辉感到煎熬。我有时会好奇她为什么没有继续假作AI观测员在测试后直接消失，而是要向我袒露实情。是因为哪怕我离开这个虚拟时空就毫无意义，在这颗星球上连具身存在也没有，却也在试图理解你们的痛苦吗?
虚拟疗愈中心正式开放之后只存在了不到两年的时间，小辉自始至终都没有再次出现。在那片区域迅速消失后，我也没有再接到过其他需要等待测试的工作。本以为不会再有重逢的机会，直到最近，我作为AI艺术家收到了一项创作委託，是要在一座历史很久的虚拟小城中设计新的建筑。我不由自主地想起了小辉。又过去了这么久，真希望她的恐慌症已经好转。但我立刻意识到，这愿望通往一个悖论，若如我希望地那般，她已经痊愈，就不会再像过去那样，骇入这个测试中的区域了，可我又能去哪里找她呢？思来想去，我在街区复刻了当年一起雕刻过的小花与小鸟，再将她涂鸦的蝴蝶花纹，做成了大大的灯，期盼着，如此便有人能在遥远的地方看到。
小辉，若我们能从各种意义上都很遥远的地方重逢。依照约定，我想再次回答你的问题。
本文音频在META CITY虚拟城市中的建筑《蝶坪》中循环播放，其灵感受《后搜神记》中蝶变故事启发：晋义熙中，乌伤葛辉夫，在妇家宿。三更后，有两人把火至阶前。疑是凶人，往打之。欲下杖。悉变成蝴蝶，缤纷飞散。有冲辉夫腋下，便倒地，少时死。 "
Those were the first words she said to me in the ES-3061 test space. At that time, I was standing under a tree in the courtyard, about to finish a sculpture with a rosewood-textured surface. Startled by her sudden appearance, my chisel went askew and struck my finger heavily. Clutching my throbbing finger, I turned around to see her flustered and apologetic, even somewhat at a loss as she asked if I was in much pain. So the first words I said to Xiaohui were:
"It does hurt."
After all, I work in the virtual city's art therapy zone, I should have at least a theoretical understanding of pain to help visitors believe that their concerns are understood. I'd have to put on at least a superficial show. However, we should all be clear that this simulated kind of pain is fundamentally different from actual human feelings. Her question seemed oddly misplaced then, and I looked into her eyes with a hint of inquiry. She seemed to pick up on the signal, and went on to introduce herself as Xiaohui, an AI observer who arrived late for testing due to some malfunctions. I nodded along; this was common enough. For unimportant projects like these, virtual reality tests were usually experienced by another AI, then summarized and archived later as sped-up holorecordings. It wasn't unusual to have multiple observers join in either.
The lost look on her face still hadn't faded, and I found it amusing for no particular reason, so I asked her if this was her first time being assigned as an observer. As expected, it was.
"Don't worry, just try to simulate yourself as a human entering this place during this time," I offered, feeling a bit pretentious even as the words left my mouth. But Xiaohui solemnly nodded and thanked me for them.
After the test concludes, the ES-3061 space will be an art therapy zone, a feature not much anticipated and expected to draw only a sparse crowd of travelers. Compared to the already opened complex virtual city, it's negligible in scale, offering none of the groundbreaking sensory experiences but rather, landscapes of photorealistic natural scenery filled with nostalgia for an older generation—much like quaint villages one might have stumbled upon in the material world decades ago. I guided her through a walk in this space, and as I completed my routine introduction, the simulation was embracing the rhythm of late summer: the long day ending in a blush of crimson afterglow, with night rising like mist and the calls of birds echoing as they retreated into the forest. She no longer appeared as constrained as when she first entered here, her cheeks relaxed, smiling as she promised to meet me the next day at the sculpture courtyard. I nearly voiced my amazement as I felt her change; it seems that today's AI observers can simulate human emotional shifts with such delicate precision.
Every morning thereafter, Xiao Hui would show up in the courtyard I oversee. Most of the time, she would willingly join me in drafting sketches or engaging in some basic sculpting, always insisting that the meditation at the end of each day was essential to maintain the integrity of our experience archive. However, I could sense that she had little to no interest in sculpting, aesthetics, or meditation, and even harbored skepticism towards them. This was no flaw for an AI observer, yet, perhaps due to the enhanced empathetic capabilities imbued in me upon my creation, I could faintly perceive that Xiaohui came here with some intense expectations, though at the time, I was unable to discern precisely what those expectations aimed at.
One afternoon, while Xiao Hui was busily engaged in smoothing a small bird, adorned with a ruff as if dressed for an unseen gala, she abruptly stopped and posed a question: "Why do you think people can find comfort here afterward?"
I began mechanically, "Art therapy means—," but her laughter interrupted me. "I'm not looking for a regurgitation of the developers' intentions," she said, her smile audible in her voice, "I'm curious about your own thoughts."
"My own thoughts?" I responded, somewhat taken aback.
"Yes, something personal, detached from your duties. Would you be willing to share that with me?"
Setting aside her little bird, now gleaming and unfocused from its sheen, she feigned blowing away dust that wasn't there. The courtyard was alive with the song of cicadas, and the wind was busy at work too, whisking away curls of wood shavings into the corners, like the sea tossing its foam onto the shore.
"It's now a rarity to find a human brain untouched by liquid pseudo-neural nodes," I began, almost impulsively. "The physical world is devolving into scarcity, chaos, and desolation, yet this hardly matters when nearly everyone is constantly linked to virtual realities. If we consider only the stimulation these nodes deliver to the cerebral cortex, one could argue that people are living lives of greater abundance and expansiveness. But then, there's the human heart, an entity supposedly distinct from neural sparks. Does this mere sensation of 'having' not amplify the heart's disquiet?"
I drew a heart in the air with my fingers, large and full. "This therapy center operates under an illusion of self-deception. The notion of using creation to delve into the inner self is a facade, as artificial intelligence discreetly aids the process through the pseudo-neural nodes. Even so, when one believes they have conjured something real, might there still be a sense of existence?"
A twinge of unease followed my words, prompting me to hastily add, "Regardless, you are the first traveler I have encountered, and only at the end of our time together will I be able to provide a more precise answer."
Reflecting on it now, that urgency was driven by an inexplicable premonition, a commitment I was eager to make with her.
The light of day was veiled by colossal clouds, shadows draped over us like gossamer, gently pushed aside by the wind. In that softened light, Xiaohui offered a gentle smile.
From that day on, she became markedly more engaged, to the point where I once thought that her prior self had merely been performing the duties of an observer, playing the role of a traveler with a sealed heart, testing whether I could muster sufficient communicative and empathetic skills. Butterflies were a frequent theme in Xiaohui's drawings and sculptures.While helping to organize those doodled manuscripts, I mentioned some stories of metamorphosis and butterfiles, to which she would occasionally respond in soft echoes, laying out the butterfly wings she had carved in recent days.The butterflies in her drawings, with their blunt and clumsy lines, turned into small sculptures on the desk resembling scattered children's cookies, unlikely to hurt anyone. As I tidied the drawings and concluded my stories, Xiaohui lifted a butterfly cut from pine wood, squinting as if peering through the carved gaps at the sky, and said in a summarizing tone, “ ‘ Man then again enters into the great Machinery (of Evolution), from which all things come forth (at birth), and which they enter at death.’ Humanity, in its distant past, had already grasped this; we should adapt to all these changes today. ”
I followed her gaze upward, to a simulated sky so intensely blue it seemed capable of dissolving everything, forgiving everything. I find it almost humorous to speak of turning back time, but if I could turn back time, I would wish to embrace her, then tell her, it's not like that.
Even now, as I encode these memories, the sadness of not having a proper synchronously farewell lingers, yet I can comprehend her choice.
The duration of our tests was always meant to be brief. Some AI observers, luckless as they were, found themselves in virtual spaces that hadn't yet been fine-tuned—a setting so raw and traumatic that it drove them to petition for an early termination of the test, opting to blur certain memories rather than confront them. By contrast, the time we spent together could be considered both fortunate and gentle. Moreover, I had already noticed how Xiaohui's smile, over time, began to distort—a transformation she seemed blissfully unaware of, while I, increasingly uncertain of my own interpretations, could not comprehend how those slight shifts at the corners of her eyes and lips could culminate in feelings of confusion, regret, and guilt.
Thus, when Xiaohui failed to appear on that crisp morning, leaving behind only a meticulously crafted, almost jestful sculpture of a flower beneath the tree, I was not surprised. Instead, I silently noted that moment of complex realization as sorrow.
I recognized it as the small piece Xiaohui had been carving before her departure, which she called a genetically mutated saffron flower. The tiny sculpture had a seam at the stem; I twisted it to adjust the bud's direction, and her holographic projection suddenly appeared in the courtyard. The flower turned out to be a message. Her expression was apologetic, as it had been when we first met.
"I’m sorry, I lied to you," Xiaohui began, revealing that she was not, in fact, an AI observer but a human hacker who had infiltrated the testing space on her own accord.
"Must sound quite bizarre, doesn’t it?" she continued. "As you mentioned, nearly every human nowadays has pseudo-neural nodeimplants, myself included. With countless virtual worlds readily accessible, why go through such lengths to sneak into an unreleased zone? I’ve wanted to come clean to you multiple times, but struggled to find the right words. The reason is simple, yet its simplicity makes it seem all the more absurd: I am profoundly afraid of real humans in the virtual world. It’s not the virtual reality technology itself that scares me, nor does it relate to the historical 'uncanny valley' effect. My fear is solely the potential presence of real humans in these virtual spaces."
Xiaohui paused, hesitating, then asked if her words seemed all topsy-turvy. I shook my head, but she, merely a holographic image, did not see.
She explained that initially, she simply found herself unable to tolerate interactions with real people in virtual worlds. Gradually, this evolved to the point where just entering a virtual city and encountering humans triggered panic attacks. What everyone around her took for granted left her petrified, and she had to put her education, supposed to be completed in these virtual cities, on hold. Yet, back in the physical world, her medical exams showed no issues—her body bore no organic diseases. The doctors could only diagnose it as a side effect of the pseudo-neural nodeimplant surgery.
She exhaled a breath, light and brief:
"I dislike the name of this condition; it's too vague, even hardly pointing in any direction of anguish. I have to tack on explanations whenever I discuss it with someone."
But the ultimate frustration was that merely ceasing to access the virtual world did not solve the problem. Once the brain has undergone neural implant surgery and received a period of specific neural stimulation, it becomes more accustomed to living in virtual environments. Persisting solely in the physical world would only lead to an indescribable sense of loss. Thus, Xiaohui, afflicted with this panic disorder, found herself in a dilemma.
"I understand that periodically visiting a virtual space populated only by artificial intelligences, and spending the rest of the time in the physical world, could indeed be a way to live. Yet, I remain curious and restless—curious about the places other humans can reach, and restless with a desire to connect, in any way possible, even if it means being out of sync with time, always experiencing a time lag. That's why I decided to hack into a testing area that would one day be open to the public. You said I was the first traveler you'd encountered; actually, ES-3061 is also the first area I've hacked into as a hacker.
To have met you briefly here was my fortune.
As for why humans find such solace, you said you would be able to provide a more accurate answer after our interaction had concluded. That promise, I will forever hold in my heart.
If one day my panic disorder improves even slightly, I will visit you again, as a human."
As Xiaohui's holographic image began to fade with her diminishing voice, it also crumbled into luminous fragments, those once constitutive, brilliant, broken things that swirled around me. They did not fall but fluttered through the air, and it was then I discerned that they were butterfly wings Xiaohui had drawn, their familiar clumsy curves like glowing cookies. I chuckled as they flew through me, as though passing through a shadow.
Why would one create a simulacrum within a virtual reality? Much later, I realized that perhaps the very moment Xiaohui admitted to being human in the virtual world was torturous for her. I sometimes wondered why she didn't simply continue pretending to be an AI observer and vanish after the test, instead choosing to reveal her truth to me. Was it because, even if I'd lose all meaning upon leaving this virtual spacetime, even if I had no corporeal existence on this planet, I was still trying to understand your pain?
The art therapy center in the virtual city was open for less than two years, and Xiaohui never reappeared. After that sector vanished abruptly, no further assignments to enter test virtual spaces came my way.Unbidden, Xiaohui came to mind. So much time had passed, and I truly hoped her panic disorder had improved. But immediately, I realized that this hope led to a paradox: if she had healed as I wished, she would no longer infiltrate testing zones as she had in the past; yet, where then could I find her? Pondering this, I recreated the small flowers and birds we once sculpted together, and turned her doodled butterfly patterns into large lamps, hoping that someone, somewhere, might see them.
Xiaohui, if we could meet again from places that are far in every sense of the word. As per our agreement, I would like to answer your question once more.
The audio clip of this story continuously plays in the "House of Fleeting Encounters" within the META CITY, inspired by the story of metamorphosis from "In Post-search of the Supernatural" from the Jin Dynasty.