The problem you seek is much larger than you may give it credit. "Mind" is one of the hard terms in philosophy to define precisely. Indeed you quote a definition (emphasis mine):
the element of a person that enables them to be aware of the world and their experiences, to think, and to feel; the faculty of consciousness and thought.
This suggests that discussing a definition of "mind" is at least as difficult as discussing what is called The Hard Problem of Consciousness:
The hard problem of consciousness is the problem of explaining why any physical state is conscious rather than nonconscious.
The name for this problem is coined in 1995, but the problem has been a subject of philosophical debate for a much longer time than that. An answer to this debate would be required for your question to have an answer.
Personally, I find it effective to define it implicitly via the Chinese Room:
Searle's thought experiment begins with this hypothetical premise: suppose that artificial intelligence research has succeeded in constructing a computer that behaves as if it understands Chinese. It takes Chinese characters as input and, by following the instructions of a computer program, produces other Chinese characters, which it presents as output. Suppose, says Searle, that this computer performs its task so convincingly that it comfortably passes the Turing test: it convinces a human Chinese speaker that the program is itself a live Chinese speaker. To all of the questions that the person asks, it makes appropriate responses, such that any Chinese speaker would be convinced that they are talking to another Chinese-speaking human being.
The question Searle wants to answer is this: does the machine literally "understand" Chinese? Or is it merely simulating the ability to understand Chinese?[7][d] Searle calls the first position "strong AI" and the latter "weak AI".
Searle then supposes that he is in a closed room and has a book with an English version of the computer program, along with sufficient papers, pencils, erasers, and filing cabinets. Searle could receive Chinese characters through a slot in the door, process them according to the program's instructions, and produce Chinese characters as output, without understanding any of the content of the Chinese writing. If the computer had passed the Turing test this way, it follows, says Searle, that he would do so as well, simply by running the program manually.
Searle asserts that there is no essential difference between the roles of the computer and himself in the experiment. Each simply follows a program, step-by-step, producing behavior that is then interpreted by the user as demonstrating intelligent conversation. However, Searle himself would not be able to understand the conversation. ("I don't speak a word of Chinese",[10] he points out.) Therefore, he argues, it follows that the computer would not be able to understand the conversation either.
Searle argues that, without "understanding" (or "intentionality"), we cannot describe what the machine is doing as "thinking" and, since it does not think, it does not have a "mind" in anything like the normal sense of the word. Therefore, he concludes that the "strong AI" hypothesis is false.
I would argue that "mind" is that which is necessarily missing from the Chinese Room which is present in a native Chinese speaker, and is the gap missing that prevents us from saying the the AI in the Chinese Room "understands" Chinese. And if you come to the conclusion that said AI understands Chinese, then it is entirely reasonable to come to the conclusion that there is no mind.
Missing from that definition, of course, is the scientifically testable hypotheses. To the best of my knowledge, there aren't any, and that is heavily entwined with why this is considered to be "the hard problem."