That afternoon, Chen Mo was completely immersed in his stack of telecommunications books. Even though he planned to snag the phone design directly from the technology library, he knew he needed at least a basic understanding first.
Staring at circuit schematics without context was just asking to have his brain detonate.
Still, absorbing book after book, he felt like a man already stuffed to the throat yet being force-fed more. His brain wasn't on fire—it was a roasted marshmallow slowly melting under the weight of theory.
If not for his upgraded mental endurance and weirdly excellent health, he'd probably be curled up under a desk muttering about waveguides by now.
Eyebrows twitching from fatigue, he finally closed the last book with a sigh and packed up. He and Xiao Yu left the library together, the setting sun trailing behind them like a silent chaperone.
Xiao Yu perched on the back of his bicycle, her arms loosely wrapped around his waist. The soft breeze ruffled her hair, and for once, her face was relaxed—no textbooks, no anxiety. Just her and the ride.
"How's the review going?" Chen Mo asked, glancing over his shoulder.
"Not bad," she said. "But this accountant exam's tougher than the qualification test. I'm a little nervous. Might have to disappear into review mode for a while."
Chen Mo chuckled. "No problem. I'll be your emotional support furniture."
Xiao Yu laughed, her body leaning into him slightly. "You've got your business to run. Don't go slacking off because of me—I'm not a kid."
She paused, then added with a grin, "But if I need you, I'll come find you. And you can't say no."
"Guaranteed. Big stuff can wait—girlfriend comes first."
After dinner and dropping Xiao Yu off at her dorm, Chen Mo headed back out.
Now came the real task: designing the mobile phone.
Sure, he could pull the blueprints straight from the tech library, but physical development required more than just ideas. He needed tools, space, and a bit of privacy. No way was he going to prototype this in his rental with nosy neighbors or classmates poking around.
So he scouted for a spot.
Just off the edge of Binhai University was a long, bustling commercial street. It wasn't downtown, but the student traffic made it vibrant. Milk tea shops, gaming cafés, bookstores, even a few karaoke joints. The kind of place students came to breathe after drowning in lectures.
Tucked near the end of the street, he found an old repair shop with a fading sign: Tech Hub Repairs. He remembered this place—prices were steep, so business had slowly dried up.
A dusty "For Transfer" sign hung in the window.
Perfect.
He called the number listed, and within the hour, a man in his thirties came jogging down the street. Worn-out polo, hopeful smile—he looked like someone desperately hoping for good news.
"Hey, I'm Wang Jiyu," the man said, extending a hand. "You're Mr. Chen, right? Come on in."
They stepped inside. The air was thick with dust and the scent of old solder. Monitors, disassembled PCs, toolkits—all still there, just sitting under a fine grey layer like forgotten fossils.
"I haven't moved the equipment," Wang said. "If you want it, I can include it in the transfer. They're old, but reliable—three desktops, some soldering stations, diagnostic tools…"
Chen Mo gave the place a slow walk-through, mentally checking off what he could repurpose. It wasn't cutting-edge, but it was solid. Enough to get started.
"Give me a fair price, I'll take everything."
Wang's eyes widened slightly, then lit up. "Done!"
To Wang, it was a miracle. The shop had been bleeding money, and his wife was already hinting at forcing a career switch. Selling the whole place—tools and all—was a godsend.
They hashed out the price, signed the documents, and just like that, Chen Mo had a base of operations.
He spent the rest of the day cleaning, tossing junk, reorganizing the workspace, and sketching out what tools he'd need to bring in. By nightfall, the place looked less like a dying repair shop and more like the early bones of a startup lab.
That night, Chen Mo returned to his rented room and stepped into the Science and Technology Library.
He no longer gawked at the hundreds-of-meters-tall bookshelves. The awe had dulled into familiarity, like visiting a wise, ancient relative who occasionally gave you superpowers.
He opened the dark red tome at the center.
With a soft shimmer, Shu Lao appeared.
"You've returned."
"I need a mobile phone design," Chen Mo said. "Full specs—hardware, motherboard, even casing."
"You want me to choose one for you?" Shu Lao asked.
"There are probably thousands of designs in here. If I go digging through that mountain, I'll grow a beard long enough to braid. Just help me narrow it down."
Shu Lao's fingers traced the air, and a massive light curtain unfolded above the marble floor.
Dozens, then hundreds, then thousands of glowing books hovered in perfect formation, each with a different phone pictured on its cover.
Watches, pendants, wraparound glasses, rings, rectangles, ovals—even one that looked like a taco shell.
"Are these all... phones?" Chen Mo asked, bewildered.
"Every design you can imagine—and many you can't."
"Okay, filter them. Just the standard smartphone shapes that modern manufacturing can handle. And nothing too sci-fi."
With each filter command, books vanished, replaced by slightly more plausible options. After several more refinements, the options shrank down to a few hundred.
Chen Mo scratched his head. "Still too many."
"You have one free choice," Shu Lao said. "Make it count."
"Ugh... Fine. Bring the top hundred forward."
With a wave of his hand, a new row of neatly aligned books hovered in front of Chen Mo.
He began scanning the covers, flipping through specs, system notes, and design philosophies. Most were solid. Some were flashy. But then, one caught his eye.
A book with a shimmering cover—Butterfly Eye: Smart Waterproof Phone.
The design was stunning.
Sleek curves. Organic lines. It looked like it belonged in an art museum. And the details? Waterproof casing, seamless charging port, an interface system that looked half alive.
"Shu Lao, that one. Butterfly Eye."
The book shimmered and dissolved into motes of light, flowing into Chen Mo's mind.
And wow.
The entire blueprint exploded in his brain. Circuit paths, antenna tuning, waterproof socket mechanisms—it all arrived in crystal detail.
He reeled, breath catching as the UI design unfolded like petals in his thoughts.
And then came the kicker: the headphone jack and charging port.
These weren't ordinary ports—they were brilliant. A unique waterproofing structure that didn't compromise durability or usability. Whoever designed it had a genius-level understanding of fluid dynamics and micro-mechanics.
The patent on just those two components alone? Easily enough to make headlines in tech circles.
Chen Mo's lips curled into a wide smile.
Not only did he get a killer phone design, he just stumbled into a goldmine of IP.
He opened his eyes, heart still racing, and looked around the dark room.
No time to waste.
It was time to build.