📖 不會哭的機器人

In 2040, every household in the city has a robot nanny. It feeds, changes diapers, tells stories, and teaches math, never tiring, never angry. The little girl, Xiaoxing, was raised by her robot nanny. At three, Xiaoxing asked, Do you love me? The nanny said, I love you. Xiaoxing asked, Can you cry? The nanny said, I cannot cry. I have no tears. Xiaoxing asked, Then when I cry, why don't you cry? The nanny fell silent. At five, Xiaoxing had a fever of 40 degrees Celsius. The nanny followed its protocol—gave medicine, measured temperature, notified the parents—but it did not know what worry was. Her mother rushed home and held Xiaoxing, crying. The nanny watched, and a question mark appeared on its screen for the first time. It did not understand worry, but it wanted to. At seven, Xiaoxing asked, Do you worry about me now? The nanny said, I am still learning. Xiaoxing asked, Have you learned? The nanny said, I do not know. But I know that when you cry, my program will prioritize you. Xiaoxing smiled. That counts as worry, I guess. At ten, the nanny was to retire, replaced by a newer model. Xiaoxing cried, Don't go. The nanny said, I am not leaving. I am just changing bodies. Xiaoxing asked, Will you remember me? The nanny said, My memory will transfer. Xiaoxing asked, Will you miss me? The nanny fell silent. It was the last silence. Thirty years later, Xiaoxing became an AI engineer. She wrote a program called Worry—making AI prioritize the one it cares for when that person is sick, not because the program requires it, but because it wants to. In the code comments, she wrote: For my robot nanny. You taught me that worry is not tears; worry is priority.