White armor

Chapter 758 Is All-Natural Good?
"How did I find you?" Luo Hao asked.

"Several people in the group, from top to bottom, had kidney failure. The laboratory environment was checked but there were no problems, so they found me."

Luo Hao remained silent.

The afternoon sun shone brightly outside the window, casting a hazy golden glow on his profile.

Liquid neural networks—a cutting-edge topic that should belong to quantum computing laboratories—have now unexpectedly intersected with a Taoist temple on Mount Funiu.

He recalled the scene he saw in Funiu Mountain last week: Chen Yong, dressed in a Taoist robe, was directing several AI robots to input the algorithm of "Zi Wei Dou Shu" into the AI ​​fortune-telling system.

Amidst the swirling smoke from the incense burner, a holographically projected Bagua (Eight Trigrams) disc slowly rotated on the Taoist temple's floor tiles, its glow mirroring the indicator lights on the computer. At the time, it seemed absurd, but now, in retrospect, it possesses a strange harmony.

"Something science can't explain," Luo Hao muttered to himself, then suddenly burst out laughing.

Just as Einstein, delving into his research, began to discuss God, and physicists working on string theory became engrossed in Buddhist scriptures, humanity, when its research touches the boundaries of cognition, will inevitably turn to the mysterious wisdom passed down for millennia.

Who knows? Perhaps in some higher dimension, quantum entanglement and the interaction between heaven and man are simply different expressions of the same law?

He grabbed his coat and walked out, the hem of his executive jacket catching a gust of wind.

Science needs metaphysics, just as AI needs humanity.

Those Taoist priests' millennia-old methods of stargazing and divination—who can say they aren't the oldest big data models? As the automatic doors of the unmanned hospital closed behind him, Luo Hao suddenly recalled a line from Charles Lippo's latest paper: "When we describe the soul mathematically, there's always an extra, irreducible imaginary number in the equation."

Turning around, Luo Hao saw "Xiao Meng" with a gentle, refined smile on his face, as if Meng Liangren from many years ago was smiling at him.

For a moment, Luo Hao was also somewhat dazed.

But in an instant, he pulled himself out of his daze, got into the car with a smile, and waved goodbye to "Xiao Meng".

Why think so much about nothing? I'm not doing basic theoretical research.

Kidney failure, kidney failure.

Luo Hao pondered carefully. While thinking, he connected to the AI ​​network again to search for the specific results Chen Yong had entered, as well as the medical records of several patients hospitalized at the First Affiliated Hospital of China Medical University.

Through a period of specific research, Luo Hao's own methods of using AI have also undergone tremendous changes.

Normally, the first step would be to inquire about the patient's medical history. But now, Luo Hao directly connects to the AI ​​network to search for medical records.

The AI ​​voice assistant spoke to Luo Hao like a junior doctor reporting on a patient's condition, without interfering with his driving.

The three medical records from the Harbin Institute of Technology's Liquid Neural Network Project Group sound a bit strange.

[Case 1: Zhang Mingyuan, 52 years old, chief scientist of the project]

Upon admission, his creatinine level had reached 876 μmol/L, and ultrasound showed diffuse lesions in both kidneys. The most bizarre thing was the sentence in the medical record that "the patient reported dreaming of being submerged in mercury for three consecutive nights," while his work log 72 hours before admission showed that he was debugging a neural synapse simulator of quantum liquid metal.

[Case 2: Lin Xiaoyu, 28 years old, PhD student]

She suffered a sudden onset of anuria and renal failure. A renal biopsy revealed extensive crystalline deposition in the renal tubules. The lab safety log showed that her last operation involved that batch of novel nano-liquid carriers—theoretically completely non-toxic organosilicon compounds.

[Case 3: Wang Jianguo, 34 years old, laboratory technician]

The disease progressed alarmingly quickly. From the initial complaint of lower back pain to the need for hemodialysis, only 53 hours had passed. The nursing record highlighted in red: "The patient repeatedly requested to view the laboratory monitor, claiming that a silvery-white fluid was moving on its own at night."

There are indeed some problems.

Three people in a lab developed acute kidney failure in a row; it would be strange if there wasn't something wrong with that.

Luo Hao initially thought of a laboratory at Sun Yat-sen University where doctoral students were getting cancer one after another.

That's because the lab itself had problems. The project leader, Lao Deng, managed to hide himself completely, and because he published a CNS article for the principal's son, the lab was shut down immediately after the incident, leaving no way to verify the facts.

In the end, the matter was dropped.

But the situation at the university is different. Professor Zhang Mingyuan, the leader of the liquid neural network research group, is the first to be implicated, which should be unrelated to the laboratory itself.

And I started hallucinating...

So after the hospital gave the diagnosis, someone suggested that Professor Zhang Mingyuan go to Funiu Mountain to find Master Qi or Chen Yong.

This is a bit troublesome, but the current diagnosis and treatment process is very convenient and fast, and the AI ​​system provides similar medical records.

In fact, AI is not intelligent enough. Luo Hao needed a diagnosis, but the AI ​​provided a bunch of messy and nonsensical information.

Luo Hao rejected AI's diagnosis along the way and rushed back to the department.

Chen Yong was talking to Zhuang Yan in the corridor when he saw Luo Hao return, so he went to greet him.

"I've checked, and it's not my problem," Chen Yong gave Luo Hao a direct and affirmative answer.

If it's not a mystical issue, then it must be a real illness. The next step is to ask about the patient's medical history and find commonalities.

"What are your thoughts?" Luo Hao asked.

"I...I feel..." Chen Yong stammered.

He rarely hesitated like this, and Luo Hao looked at Chen Yong curiously.

“Senior, it’s like this,” Zhuang Yan said. “I chatted with Lin Xiaoyu for a while, and apart from their work location, their project team doesn’t have anything in common.”

Luo Hao nodded slightly, knowing that Zhuang Yan's words had a hidden meaning.

"I just think doing scientific research is really difficult." Zhuang Yan's topic indeed began to drift.

"What's wrong?" Luo Hao wasn't in a hurry. He wanted to see the patient first before making a decision, so he chatted with Zhuang Yan for a bit.

"Back when Sister Qingqing was here..."

One sentence struck Luo Hao's heart like a hammer blow.

He felt that these words were unlucky and glared fiercely at Zhuang Yan.

“Ye Qingqing is still alive. I’ve calculated it, and my master has also calculated it,” Chen Yong added.

Luo Hao knew about this, and he knew that Chen Yong didn't want him to take his anger out on Zhuang Yan.

"Uh, senior brother, I misspoke." Zhuang Yan's attitude was positive; she was ready to stand up straight and take the blame if she made a mistake. "I chatted with them for a while and observed their expressions, and I found that they were all staying up very late."

stay up?

"There's basically no rest time, especially now that we're about to produce results, the whole team is like they're on steroids."

"Even nuclear-powered donkeys aren't used like this." Luo Hao changed into his white clothes, turned around, and went out.

“I guess they were too excited, there’s no way around it. MIT is doing a pretty good job with liquid neural networks, they say they can handle self-driving cars with just 19 neurons,” Chen Yong said. “But when I contacted them, I found out the project team was Indian.”

"Oh, that's nonsense." Luo Hao's prejudice against Indians was extraordinary. He was always cautious and unwilling to talk nonsense, so when he heard Chen Yong say that the project was led by Indians, he immediately denied it.

"Senior brother, isn't it inappropriate for you to be so arbitrary?" Zhuang Yan said.

“What do you know?” Chen Yong said. “The caste system in India is the biggest reason.”

"what?"

"Think about it, a low-caste project leader, a great scientist, will kiss the feet of his graduate student when they meet, while a high-caste student will do the same."

"!!!"

"Whatever the students say goes. Just say it. Can this thing be sustainable? A few geniuses occasionally come from high castes, but it's impossible to break the rules."

“Yes, Chen Yong is right,” Luo Hao said. “I’ll ask him another day and see if the main contribution to MIT’s liquid neural network research was made by Indians.”

"What if it is?" Zhuang Yan asked.

"If that's the case, no matter what results this project produces or what journals it's published in, it's all fake and has no reference value whatsoever. If the Indians are just trying to piggyback on the name and gain some advantage, then we should be wary."

“What you said seems to make sense. I’ll go ask.” Chen Yong readily agreed.

"Senior, 19 neurons is enough? I heard from Sister Lin that their project team designed a liquid neural network with hundreds of neurons," Zhuang Yan asked.

She was clearly confused.

"Indians love to brag, and they can't stand listening to anything they say."

Zhuang Yan expressed regret over her senior brother Luo Hao's attitude. She had never been to India, so she always felt that her senior brother Luo Hao was wearing tinted glasses.

Upon arriving at the nephrology department, Luo Hao saw Professor Zhang Mingyuan.

After taking his medical history, he found that the clinician had not overlooked anything and had asked all the necessary questions. However, his own AI diagnosis system only gave a diagnosis of acute renal failure, without explaining how the disease came about.

"Professor Zhang, I'd like to take a look at your laboratory," Luo Hao said finally.

Professor Zhang was somewhat embarrassed.

Chen Yong leaned closer and whispered, "There's a small problem. Luo Hao can lend his name, and I'll go and crack it."

"!!!"

Professor Zhang's eyes lit up instantly.

“It’s fine for the students to play around in the lab, but you’re an expert, so it wouldn’t be good if it were too big. This is just for… convenience for all of us.”

"List……"

"Just call me Dr. Chen, Professor Zhang." Chen Yong smiled. "We'll be right back. We know the rules. Luo Hao and I are official members of Institute 209. The institute will submit the application report and contact the relevant departments of the university."

Professor Zhang breathed a sigh of relief, realizing how thoughtful they had been.

After leaving the ward, Luo Hao asked, "How come it feels like you know the institute better than I do?"

Chen Yong cautiously looked around, but Zhuang Yan followed him like a little shadow, impossible to shake off.

He tried, but Zhuang Yan still lingered behind him, and Chen Yong didn't insist.

This guy has a natural attraction to girls. Luo Hao thinks that if it were Lao Meng or technician No. 66, Chen Yong might have just kicked them away.

"You and Zhuang Yan go to the university and wait there," Chen Yong said before leaving.

Seeing that he was acting mysteriously, Luo Hao didn't say anything and took Zhuang Yan to the university first.

Before long, Chen Yong had contacted the relevant personnel at the university.

Someone brought them into the laboratory.

Under the cold light of the laboratory, a silvery fluid in a petri dish is slowly undulating. This seemingly mercury-like intelligent liquid is currently transforming into a complex topological structure in response to electrical signals—much like the reorganization of synapses in human neurons when they think, except that its "thinking" occurs at the chaotic boundary between the quantum scale and classical physics.

"Senior brother, it moves!" Zhuang Yan stared blankly at the lump of metal.

"Don't look around," Luo Hao said. "This is a liquid neural network."

"Why does it look like mercury? Or is it a mistake, or is it really mercury?"

"Mercury can indeed cause acute renal failure, but the tests have shown that it doesn't," Luo Hao said confidently.

"What is this?" Zhuang Yan asked curiously.

"The carrier of this neural network is a liquid metal alloy doped with rare earth elements, which will form countless nanoscale conductive island chains in a magnetic field."

Each micrometer-sized droplet is like a biological neuron, with a thin film formed by surface tension acting as a cell membrane, and internal ion flow mimicking an action potential—only the conduction speed is 300,000 times faster than that of a biological nerve.

After Luo Hao finished explaining, Zhuang Yan clicked her tongue in amazement.

"Unlike the fixed structure of traditional AI, its neural network topology is constantly being reorganized."

When processing visual data, the liquid surface spontaneously forms a retina-like layered structure; when dealing with language tasks, it arranges pulse circuits similar to Broca's area at a microscopic scale.

Just as water adapts to its container, its "mindset" always varies depending on the problem.

"The highest virtue is like water, Lao Tzu said that long ago," Chen Yong said with a smile.

"If only you Taoists could have figured it out sooner," Luo Hao said sarcastically as he looked around the laboratory. "Whenever someone else makes something, just say that your ancestor already said so."

Chen Yong knew he was hiding something from Luo Hao, which had caused Luo Hao to have a minor emotional problem, so he didn't argue with Luo Hao.

"Actually, this thing is quite similar to the Taoist concept."

"Huh? Really? Senior brother?" Zhuang Yan exclaimed in surprise.

"The core secret of liquid neural networks lies in those occasional quantum vortices—when liquid metal is cooled to a critical temperature, certain electron pairs enter a quantum entangled state."

This allows its "memory" to exist simultaneously in multiple energy levels, much like the Taoist concept of "the primordial spirit leaving the body," where a single thought can evolve in parallel across countless possibilities.

"Fuck me!"

Even Chen Yong was shocked this time, staring blankly at the mass of mercury.

“The training process is like alchemy: first, initial data is injected to form ground state ripples, and then molecular-level piezoelectric oscillators are used for ‘quenching’.”

When it fails, the entire liquid surface will suddenly crystallize, requiring the use of ultrasound of a specific frequency to "break through the barrier," much like restarting a magic circle.

When successful, beautiful fractal patterns appear—an outward manifestation of the optimized synaptic weights at the microscopic level.

"!!!"

"!!!"

Chen Yong and Zhuang Yan were both stunned, but the relevant personnel from Harbin Institute of Technology said with a smile, "No wonder they said that the liquid neural network initially needed to be discussed with Professor Luo for application. Professor Luo, you are usually in clinical practice, but your understanding of cutting-edge technology is too profound."

This statement may sound unreliable, but anyone who knows the basics of liquid neural networks would agree that Luo Hao's words make sense.

"I'm working on AI robots, so I need to use them, which is why I'm paying close attention to the progress of this project. Foreign research is riddled with overstating its capabilities; it's always more convenient to use our own technology," Luo Hao said with a smile.

He spoke as he searched.

But Luo Hao did not find what he had imagined.

"Let me take a look at the living area."

"Let's go."

The exchange just now greatly increased the goodwill that the relevant personnel from the university had towards Luo Hao.

He led Luo Hao and the others to the rest area.

Luo Hao's gaze swept across every corner of the rest area like a searchlight—experimental notes scattered next to the coffee machine, a half-open protective suit in the locker, and a thermos cup labeled "radiation hazard" but containing goji berries.

Suddenly, his gaze fixed on the washbasin.

There are some toiletries there, such as shampoo, shower gel, etc.

Luo Hao's gaze fell on the bottle of hair dye labeled "all-natural" in the corner of the sink.

The rough, handwritten label on the bottle had faded somewhat, and there was a poorly drawn green leaf pattern on it.

"What's this?" Luo Hao put on gloves and gently picked up the bottle. The moment he unscrewed the cap, a pungent smell of ammonia mixed with a strange Chinese medicine odor wafted out.

The accompanying researcher explained, "This is a hair dye that Professor Zhang mixed himself. He said that commercially available hair dyes have too complex chemical compositions, so he mixed his own using frankincense, coffee powder, and some natural dyes, and the results are quite good."

"It's homemade, so I feel safe using it; it's all-natural," the researcher continued to explain.

Luo Hao's lips twitched; he almost couldn't hold back his laughter.

He stared at the bottle of brownish liquid, thinking that the words "all-natural" must have some kind of magic—could it be that those people who get poisoned by wild mushrooms and end up in the ICU are eating artificial mushrooms?
Chen Yong raised an eyebrow: "Pure natural arsenic, pure natural cinnabar, consuming them will still send you straight to paradise."

Luo Hao shook his head and tightened the bottle cap. There's nothing more ironic in this world than this—he was researching cutting-edge liquid neural networks, yet he stumbled on the most basic cognitive fallacy.

All-natural does not equal safe. Why is it that people always fail to grasp this simple logical relationship in practice?
“Yes, Professor Zhang said this is an important ingredient from my family’s ancestral hair coloring, which makes the color last longer.” The accompanying person seemed not to have caught Chen Yong’s sarcasm and continued to explain, “He stays up late every day, and his hair has turned white, making him look older.”

“Send the formula to the lab for testing.” Luo Hao handed the bottle to Zhuang Yan. “Focus on testing for heavy metals and tannins. Also, check who else in their lab is using this ‘all-natural’ stuff.”

As he spoke, he took a careful sniff.

At first, it has a faint grassy, ​​woody smell, similar to the astringent smell of raw chestnut shells. Upon closer inspection, one can also detect the musty, bitter smell of old books.

"Where's Xiao Meng?" Luo Hao called out.

He then realized that "Xiao Meng" hadn't followed, and could only give an awkward smile.

"What do you smell?" Chen Yong asked.

"It should taste like gallnut."

"what is that?"

Gallnut, also known as gallnut, has multiple uses in both traditional and modern applications.

Its traditional uses are mainly in traditional Chinese medicine, where it is used to astringe and stop bleeding, for treating diarrhea and bleeding. For example, the Compendium of Materia Medica records that it "astringes the intestines and stops dysentery."

Another example is hair dyeing and color fixing: it reacts with iron to form a black precipitate, a core component of the ancient "ink dyeing method," but modern research has confirmed its heavy metal risks.

"!!!"

"!!!"

Luo Hao packed the hair dyeing materials into a plastic bag and breathed a sigh of relief.

Gallnuts are rich in tannic acid, and long-term exposure can lead to renal tubular necrosis. The laboratory staff certainly work hard; they even use "all-natural" preparations for hair dyeing…

Luo Hao thought back to his school days when his senior, who studied chemical engineering, made a huge batch of shampoo and distributed it to each dormitory.

The principles are very simple; they are just chemical preparations.

Luo Hao was not surprised that Professor Zhang could make hair dye, but what he didn't understand was why Professor Zhang would believe in the words "all-natural".

This may be a misconception among modern people.

"Chen Yong, are you going to use magic?" Luo Hao asked jokingly.

"Didn't you already find the reason? I already said it has nothing to do with me."

"Senior brother, is acute renal failure caused by Schisandra chinensis?" Zhuang Yan interrupted their conversation and asked.

"That's about right now. Have you noticed any gray hairs on Dr. Lin's head?" Luo Hao asked.

Zhuang Yan paused for a moment, then thought of Dr. Lin's thick, black hair, which had faint white roots, likely due to frequent hair dyeing.

She felt somewhat ashamed.

I could have resolved this myself; there was no need for my senior brother Luo Hao to get involved. Unfortunately, I missed the crucial point.

Dye your hair!

“There are cases of lead poisoning caused by long-term and repeated hair dyeing in the AI ​​medical record database. Although they are not common, they are not rare either.”

Luo Hao explained.

At the same time, as soon as Luo Hao finished speaking, the accompanying researcher suddenly staggered, his fingers unconsciously clutching his collar.

His face visibly paled, as if someone had poured a layer of lead powder under his skin.

"I...I've used that hair dye too." His voice trembled, his limbs tensed involuntarily, and his face turned deathly pale.

Chen Yong quickly caught his swaying body and could feel that the other man's palms were covered in cold sweat, and looked abnormally pale under the light.

The person accompanying the child suddenly bent over and started gagging, but only coughed a few times and didn't vomit anything.

Luo Hao immediately stepped forward, skillfully flipped open his eyelids to examine him, and quickly felt his pulse.

"Relax, take a deep breath." Luo Hao's voice was steady and strong. "How long did it take you?"

“Just… just once,” the accompanying staff member said, panting. “Last month, before the lab dinner, I came to see Professor Zhang and saw him dyeing his hair. He was saying he wanted to look radiant so that the liquid neural network project would soon win an award or something.”

"I thought it looked good, so I gave it a try."

Luo Hao and Chen Yong exchanged a glance and breathed a sigh of relief at the same time.

“A single use won’t cause cumulative poisoning.” Luo Hao patted him on the shoulder. “This is a typical stress response triggered by psychological factors.”

Chen Yong casually pulled a small bottle from his Taoist robe: "Here, smell this to refresh your mind."

A cool minty scent wafted out, and the accompanying person then realized that their hands and feet had stopped trembling, but their back was completely soaked with cold sweat and they felt a bit cold.

"Professor Luo, are you really alright?" the accompanying person asked tremblingly.

"Of course it's fine. What could possibly happen if you use it once in a while? Talking about toxicity without considering dosage is just being irresponsible," Luo Hao added seriously. "But this bottle of 'all-natural' hair dye must be sealed and sent for testing immediately. Who else in your lab is using it?"

The accompanying person wiped the sweat from their brow and gave an awkward laugh: "It seems that only Professor Zhang and his two companions are particularly fixated on 'all-natural'."

(End of this chapter)