I control the AI ​​empire thanks to the geniuses in my group.

Su Zhou stared at the system notification, his eyes gradually brightening.

Premium red envelope.

The red envelopes given by Qian Lao, Newton, Leibniz and Rosenblatt had already made him grow faster than ordinary people. If it were a high-level red envelope, what kind of amazing reward would it be?

Su Zhou dared not think any further.

so horrible.

Despite his excitement, he quickly calmed down, opened another browser window, and began searching for "software and hardware requirements for neural network research tools".

His face darkened the moment the search results appeared.

Even the most basic neural network experiments, such as running a simple multilayer perceptron, require a certain amount of computing power.

Data processing, matrix operations, and parameter optimization—every step consumes computing resources.

What are the specifications of the computer in front of him?

Celeron processor, 256MB RAM, 40GB hard drive.

He opened a MATLAB online documentation page.

The screen froze.

The mouse cursor changes to an hourglass.

The loading circle in the upper right corner of the page took a full fifteen seconds to barely load, and then when he tried to open a third tab at the same time, the entire browser crashed.

Su Zhou stared blankly at the "This program is not responding" pop-up on the screen and reached out to close it.

This secondhand computer is so weak that it's like an eighty-year-old man climbing stairs if you open just two web pages, let alone do research.

Want to work on neural networks?

Let's get a working computer first.

He subconsciously did some calculations.

He can get 5,830 yuan from selling the notebooks. In the computer market in 2006, a mainstream desktop computer cost about 3,000 to 4,000 yuan. If he wanted to assemble a machine that could run basic scientific calculations, he would need to increase the memory and add a dedicated graphics card. A budget of around 5,000 yuan should be enough.

With a tight budget, it's barely enough.

However, the most urgent thing right now is not to buy computers, but to make the courseware for eleven people.

The geniuses in the group are right; the first step in teaching is to understand the students' motivations and cognitive levels.

Rosenblatt's teaching skills also gave him a complete methodology, breaking down complex concepts into step-by-step modules, accurately identifying learners' bottlenecks, and advancing layer by layer, just like training a machine.

This methodology can also be applied to teaching Olympiad mathematics.

Su Zhou exited the browser, opened a document editor, and created a new blank file.

Rosenblatt's teaching skills displayed terrifying power at this moment.

In the past, when he took notes, he organized the content according to his own understanding and logic. Essentially, it was from the perspective of a top student. He would gloss over what he thought was clear and write down what he thought was important.

This kind of note is useful to him, but for others, it is too disjointed, with too many missing cognitive steps in between.

Just as it was perfectly normal for Ramanujan to write three lines of derivation on the blackboard and jump directly to the conclusion, it would be like gibberish to his students.

But it's different now.

A filter has been added to his mind.

For each knowledge point written, it automatically simulates the cognitive state of an "average student": What does this student have in their mind right now? What are they lacking? Where are they stuck? What kind of steps do they need to climb to the next level?

Then he would precisely insert an auxiliary module at the key point, which might be a preparatory question, an analogy, or a thought-provoking question.

The connections between each module are carefully designed, with a gentle slope but a clear direction. As long as students follow along, they will be unconsciously pushed to their predetermined level of understanding.

Su Zhou wrote more and more smoothly and faster.

Two hours later, he stopped and looked at the densely packed courseware on the screen, and he was a little surprised himself.

Page 32.

Five thematic modules.

Each module consists of four parts: core concepts, cognitive steps, variation exercises, and thinking tests.

He read it through from beginning to end, made some corrections to a few places where the wording was not precise enough, then saved it, closed the document, and went to bed.

The world outside the window had become completely quiet.

The next day, Su Zhou handed over the task of picking up his younger sister to his father. As soon as the school bell rang, Su Zhou and Zhao Zixuan went straight to Zhao Zixuan's house.

Zhao Zixuan's home is in Bishui Garden, two streets north of Chongming Middle School. In 2006, this community was already considered a high-end residential complex, with elevators and underground parking, and the property management fees were twice as high as those in the surrounding area.

When Su Zhou followed Zhao Zixuan into the building, she already had a premonition.

But he was still stunned for a moment when the elevator doors opened on the tenth floor.

The house has four bedrooms and two living rooms. The living room is so big you could play badminton there. The floor is so shiny it reflects light. On the entryway cabinet is a set of Jingdezhen ceramic ornaments, which are obviously not the kind you get wholesale from Yiwu.

The air of wealth is impossible to hide.

"Mom, I'm home." Zhao Zixuan changed into slippers and walked inside.

A middle-aged woman with curly hair was sitting on the living room sofa, wearing an expensive-looking loungewear set, holding a cup of tea, and flipping through a home decor magazine.

Hearing the noise, he raised his eyelids and saw that there was another person following behind Zhao Zixuan. His gaze paused for a moment.

"Who is this?"

"My classmate, Su Zhou," Zhao Zixuan said without turning his head, "I'm here to borrow the printer."

Zhao Zixuan's mother glanced at Su Zhou.

He noticed that the other person's sneakers were a bit old, and he was thin and tall, but he didn't seem like a kid from the same circle as his son.

Zhao Zixuan's mother did not speak.

It's not that she's materialistic, it's just that printers are quite expensive. The one at home is a Canon laser printer that her husband brought back from Japan, and the ink cartridges alone cost several hundred yuan each. It's not good for the kids to mess with it.

"What should I print?"

"Notes." Zhao Zixuan had already reached the study door when he turned back and said, "These are the math Olympiad notes compiled by Su Zhou. They need to be printed out for use in classes."

When Tang Huilan heard the word "class," she paused in her act of raising the cup to her lips.

"Xiao Xuan, how old are you? You're already teaching other people?" his mother asked Zhao Zixuan, her tone carrying a hint of condescending curiosity.

Zhao Zixuan was already opening the study door, and without looking up, he threw out a sentence: "So what if he's younger? He's three years younger than me, but his math Olympiad scores are better than mine. The math Olympiad coach even praised him in the last test!"

This was said very naturally, without any hint of embarrassment.

But his mother interpreted it completely differently.

Three years younger?

She looked at Su Zhou, then at her son.

How is that possible?

His mother shook her head inwardly.

She knows boys this age too well; they're always flattering each other, saying things like "you're the big brother today, I'm the boss tomorrow," making it seem like it's all real. But when the exam results come out, they all reveal their true colors.

It's just kids playing house.

But then again, since the son has already brought the person back, it would be too disrespectful to kick them out in front of them.

His mother put down the cup, smiled politely, and said, "Alright, you can use it, but don't waste too much paper. Once you're done, go back to your studies."

After saying that, she added, "Sister Liu, go and help them with that."

A voice answered from the kitchen, and an auntie wearing an apron came out.

Su Zhou stood in the entryway the whole time, seeing every change in Tang Huilan's expression.

Su Zhou said nothing and followed Zhao Zixuan into the study.

The study is quite spacious, with a row of bookshelves against the wall, a large solid wood table in the middle, on which sits a Canon laser printer, and next to it is a Lenovo desktop computer with decent specifications.

Su Zhou took out his phone from his bag, logged into QQ, and sent the file.

Zhao Zixuan leaned closer to look at the beautifully formatted notes on the screen and asked, "Did you organize all of this by yourself?"

"Um."

"This is amazing!" Zhao Zixuan, who rarely uses a computer to create documents, was naturally amazed when he saw Su Zhou's document.

The printer hummed as it started, spitting out pages of paper. Sister Liu stood beside her, helping to collect the papers. After each copy was printed, she skillfully aligned and bound them, her movements swift and efficient. It was clear that she often helped Zhao Zixuan with his printing work.

It took the printer nearly forty minutes to process all eleven notebooks.

After Sister Liu finished binding the last copy, the eleven thick volumes of "Zhou Style Secret Manual" were neatly stacked on the table.

Su Zhou picked up a book and flipped through it. The binding was quite sturdy, and the paper quality was good, much better than what you'd find in a print shop.

"Thank you, Sister Liu."

"You're welcome." Sister Liu liked Su Zhou's politeness, smiled, and turned to go to the kitchen to bring them a plate of sliced ​​apples.

Zhao Zixuan divided the eleven manuals into two stacks and stuffed them into a tote bag, then, while eating an apple, said, "Alright, everything's taken care of. What's next?"