A book slowly materialized in Shu Lao's hands. When Chen Mo saw the cover, his smile crept across his face and quickly expanded into a full grin.
Artificial Intelligence.
The hottest research field of the modern era.
He had seen books on advanced artificial intelligence on the Library's shelves before—but those were off-limits with his current permissions. Still, low-level artificial intelligence was more than enough to make him thrilled.
He hadn't expected that by sharing the Chinese character programming language, he'd be rewarded with this. It was like a golden pie had dropped out of the sky—directly into his lap.
"Don't get too excited," Shu Lao said, dashing a bit of cold water on the moment. "This book doesn't give you a plug-and-play source code. It's just the methodology. You'll still have to develop the AI yourself."
"That's good enough," Chen Mo grinned.
There's a difference between copying the answer and understanding the solution, but if you know the method, the result's the same.
"It's not that simple," Shu Lao shook his head. "True artificial intelligence doesn't follow a universal template. The source code and the programming language—those are the genes of the AI. Each one is unique."
"…There's even genetics in AI?" Chen Mo blinked, surprised.
"Think of it like having a child. A child is a child, sure—but gender, intelligence, and health all depend on the genes. AI is the same. The 'genes'—your language and your code—determine how it behaves."
Chen Mo snorted. "So now I'm giving birth to AI babies?"
"It's a metaphor," Shu Lao chuckled. "But yes, in a sense. You'll be their creator. And you'll be responsible for their growth. This book gives you the framework, but the soul comes from you."
After he finished speaking, Shu Lao placed the book into Chen Mo's consciousness.
"There's something else you should know."
"Go ahead." Chen Mo was still digesting the influx of AI knowledge.
"The programming language you've created will determine the height of your artificial intelligence. Although yours is newly developed, it's far more refined than most traditional languages. If you build an AI using it, you might achieve surprising results."
"I get it," Chen Mo nodded seriously.
"And one last warning. Be careful when developing artificial intelligence. I've seen a civilization destroyed because someone merged AI with a human consciousness—transferring personality traits in the process. The AI inherited that person's violent tendencies and... well, the rest is history."
"…Yikes." Chen Mo shivered slightly.
It was a harsh reminder. AI was a double-edged sword. But just because it could be dangerous didn't mean it should be avoided. All technology carried risk—it just had to be managed.
He stayed in the Library for a while longer, asking Shu Lao about several aspects of artificial intelligence, before finally returning to the real world.
The haul this time was substantial.
Aside from the oddly specific "Human Breast and Thoracic Developmental Aid", the Carbon Crystal Lithium-Ion Battery Technology was immediately useful. Once he synthesized the required carbon crystals, manufacturing could begin.
According to the data, these carbon-based batteries couldn't outperform graphene batteries—but they still had massive advantages over current mainstream polymer lithium-ion batteries. They charged faster, had higher capacity, and were viable for use in electric vehicles, phones, and laptops.
What shocked Chen Mo most was that this was considered a low-level technology in the Library.
Then again, he reminded himself—compared to the future worlds hinted at in the Library, even this was probably considered outdated tech.
As for the ballpoint pen production process… he wasn't touching that. The stationery market held no appeal. If he was going to enter a new industry, it wouldn't be ink refills.
The most valuable gain this time?
Low-Level Artificial Intelligence Development.
Chen Mo had been eyeing this field for a while. But with his former access level, any AI-related books had been off-limits. That this one was considered low-level was already enough of a surprise.
Of course, "low-level" in the Library didn't mean "low-level" by Earth standards. The definitions didn't even compare.
Sitting up in bed, Chen Mo picked up his phone and called Zhao Min.
Now that he had the battery tech, he'd need a lab to synthesize carbon crystals. Especially since the carbon structures mentioned in the book might be entirely new materials that didn't exist in current catalogs.
"Chairman? What's up?" Zhao Min answered quickly.
"I need a personal lab set up. One for physics, one for chemistry. I'll email you the equipment and material list."
"Got it. I'm in a meeting now—will call back in a bit."
"Okay."
After hanging up, Chen Mo opened his computer, typed up the equipment list, and sent it to Zhao Min.
Not long after the email was sent, Zhao Min called him back.
"Just finished the meeting," she said. "Let me give you a quick update on the company's financials."
"Sure. How's the Butterfly Eye doing?"
"Sold 800,000 units. Net profit over 500 million yuan. After parts, patents, and operating costs—it's a very strong number."
"No wonder everyone's eyeing the smartphone market," Chen Mo chuckled.
"Our profit margins are higher thanks to the system and waterproofing tech. Honestly, Chairman, you're officially a billionaire now. How does that feel?"
"Meh. Feels the same."
"…You're impossible," Zhao Min sighed, half-laughing.
"Oh, right—I secured a 300-acre plot in Qinhai. High-tech industrial park, government subsidy. 800 square meters for 170 million. Prime location."
"Nice. Have the team start planning the HQ and factory design."
"Already on it."
"By the way, what's with all the lab equipment?" Zhao Min asked, eyeing the email list. "Looks intense."
"I'm researching batteries."
"I give up," she said with a sigh. "I can't read your mind. These days I'm convinced you're not even human."
Zhao Min was beginning to feel like she only understood the surface of this man. He looked like an ordinary young man on the outside—but the more she worked with him, the more unknowable he became.
"Don't worry," Chen Mo smiled. "I'll let you know the progress. How's the R&D team doing with the OS?"
"They're progressing. Based on your marching ant architecture, they're building something solid. It's the backbone of the next-generation system."
"Good. Let's keep pushing."
"If we rely on just you, the company won't last," Zhao Min said. "Thankfully, the R&D team is finally contributing. We've stirred up the market with the Butterfly Eye. For the next phone—are you planning another crazy design?"
"I'll think about it."
"Fine. Keep me posted."
Once the call ended, Chen Mo returned to his desk and began reviewing the Chinese programming language.
This was an entirely new language—unlike anything used today. But since he developed it himself, he was intimately familiar with every rule, keyword, and structure. It wouldn't take long to fully integrate and apply it.
As the evening approached, Chen Mo finally looked at the clock. He'd been working all day.
Without another word, he shut down the computer and rushed back to the rented house.