Chapter 4: LLM Large Language Deep Learning Model

In the following days, Song Han, braving the considerable risk of being reprimanded by his homeroom teacher, sneaked off to the internet cafe several more times to thoroughly investigate the Microshadow System Vulnerability Bounty Program. He had come to realize that this matter was not as straightforward as he had initially thought. Whether it was the requirement for guardian approval for all transactions conducted by minors like himself, or the detailed stipulations in the bounty clauses regarding the submission of vulnerabilities, he currently fell short of meeting these requirements. You simply cannot expect a novice who has been exposed to computers for less than a week to adhere to standardized vulnerability submission formats, or to document various test data related to vulnerability submissions such as: Proof of concept, exploit code description, configuration instructions, the impact of the issue, including how an attacker could exploit the problem, and so on and so forth... These contents were clearly beyond Song Han's current knowledge base. Even with the assistance of fragmented memories from his memory palace, this information was significantly beyond his scope. Not to mention, the entire process was in English, and some of the writing and translations required him to constantly search and compare to grasp the general idea. The memory palace was like a vast repository of information bestowed upon him, where memories would surface in his consciousness triggered by certain keywords. The entire process of information retrieval was akin to an uncontrollable, fuzzy search engine. All the information required him to surface it first, then undergo deep learning to truly comprehend it. At present, Song Han could be said to be the person in the world who knows the most about XP system vulnerabilities, yet also the least about the XP system itself. Somewhat disheartened, he closed the webpage and gazed at the sky-blue grass on the screen. Suddenly, he remembered the question he had wanted to look up during his first internet session a few days ago. LLM Large Language Deep Learning Model. This was the most prominent and complex memory at the entrance and gateway of his memory palace, so intricate that the data churning in his mind for over a week had yet to be unraveled, and he still couldn't decipher the meaning behind the data characters. This left Song Han feeling somewhat discouraged in his understanding and utilization of this information. Based on his recent reflections, it was clear that he had received information that was somewhat ahead of the world's current level. However, the comprehension and application of this information required a certain reserve of knowledge. And the LLM Large Language Deep Learning Model, something he had never even heard of, undoubtedly demanded an even more complex and profound knowledge base. After a long search, it was indeed fruitless. Song Han only found a few snippets of news on deep learning: In 2006, Geoffrey Hinton and his student Ruslan Salakhutdinov formally introduced the concept of Deep Learning, sparking a wave of deep learning in both academic and industrial circles. The year 2006 is also known as the first year of deep learning, and Geoffrey Hinton is thus referred to as the father of deep learning. Deep learning? AI artificial intelligence? Song Han looked at the page on the screen and smiled self-deprecatingly: I originally thought it was a pie falling from the sky, but it turns out this pie is filled with peas—bite into it, and it's really hard! On the second day, the school launched a charity drive. Lost in excavating secrets from his Memory Palace, Song Han abruptly surfaced to reality country had regions enduring unimaginable suffering, and he'd been utterly oblivious. He touched the meager cash in his pocket, his entire month's remaining allowance. A reckless urge took hold. As the event wound down, Li Hao approached Song Han, who was still emotionally tangled in the moment: "Homeroom teacher wants you in her office. She told me this morning." Song Han's chest tightened further. His eyes darted around—was that invisible ghost of his teacher's spies tracking him again? But how? He'd logged off QQ, haunted internet cafés solo at midnight, avoided classmates like firewalls… Regret hemorrhaged through him for the next week. Two days post-donation, surviving on steamed buns and pickled vegetables, he now deeply understood the weight of instant benevolence. In the classroom, the teacher gesticulated wildly at the blackboard, saliva flecking the air. Below, students slumped behind fortress-like stacks of textbooks, eyelids at half-mast. Song Han's stomach growled. To him, everyone now resembled human-shaped chicken legs. He nudged his desk-mate, Li Hao, awake: "Know any side hustles?" Li Hao rubbed sleep from his eyes. "Since when do you want to play bouncer for thugs?" "How's that work?" "Break up fights at dive bars and net cafés. 20 yuan a pop. Wang Ba near Station Street hires." Song Han's mind flashed to gangster flicks—million-dollar deals sealed with mahjong tiles. "Wait—20 yuan? Those movies lied?" "Complainers can mop floors at 6 AM. Cafés always need part-timers." Song Han perked up: "But we're under 18—they'd hire us?" Li Hao stared. "You're serious?" "Why not?" "What if classmates catch you mopping floors? Humiliation tier unlocked. If you're broke, I can loan—my mom just wired my allowance." Song Han chewed his lip. Borrowing felt ten times more shameful. After class, they slithered through back alleys to a backdoor internet den—no prying eyes. Song Han's bravado wavered; he fixated on his shoelaces the whole walk. Li jabbed a finger at the yellowed "HELP WANTED" flyer peeling off the doorframe. "There. Knock yourself out." He vanished faster than a VPN signal. Alone now, Song Han climbed the stairs past decade-old posters of Counter-Strike championships. His stomach churned like a dying hard drive. "20 yuan three times daily? That's daylight robbery!" The net café owner—a leather-jacketed longhair rocking sunglasses indoors—snorted: "25 PCs. 2 minutes each. You'll be done in under an hour per clean. Three hours max for 20 yuan. Earns you 8 bucks an hour. Still complaining?" Song Han waffled at the counter. His dinner of steamed buns flashed through his mind. "Fine. Where's the bucket?" The owner flexed his puffer-jacket sleeves: "Mop after wiping keyboards. Report broken mice." 90 minutes later, Song Han hauled two trash bags reeking of instant-noodle broth into the alley. Hourly Math: Cleaning x3 + hardware checks = 4.5 hours → ~5 yuan/hour. Silver lining: Selling these empty soda bottles might claw back 5 yuan. He just hoped no classmates spotted him dumpster-diving.