Chen Mo didn't refuse Wu Bing's proposal.
Even though he was certain the drug was safe for human use, participating in the experiment was still necessary. As the developer, if he backed out, it wouldn't sit well professionally or ethically.
"Mr. Chen Mo, would you mind showing me your lab?" Wu Bing asked.
"Sure." Chen Mo nodded casually.
There weren't any confidential experiments in the biology lab, so there was no issue giving her a tour.
"I'm a rough type—if I go in there, I won't understand a thing. I'll leave you two to your scientific exchange," Li Chengzhi smiled.
"If you need anything, just ask the robot," Chen Mo replied with a grin, then turned and led Wu Bing toward his lab.
"Please, go ahead."
Chen Mo opened the door to the bio-lab and stepped aside, gesturing for Wu Bing to enter.
"You developed AI, invented the seismograph and robots... So you're either a physicist or a computer expert. What made you start dabbling in life sciences?" Wu Bing asked, unable to hold back the biggest question in her mind.
Physics, computer science, and biology—these were three distinct disciplines. There was some crossover between physics and computers, but biology was a completely different beast.
Yet Chen Mo had excelled in all three.
Each of his achievements—artificial intelligence, the seismograph, the discovery of the silence factor—could have rocked the world individually. And yet, they all came from one man.
At this point, calling him a genius felt like an understatement.
"Hobby, mostly," Chen Mo replied with a relaxed smile. "I've read a lot of medical texts—pharmacology, Compendium of Materia Medica, materia medica analysis, formulation theory, deconstruction… all kinds. Never practiced, though. I don't have a medical license, so I can't treat people—but making medicine is fair game. I was just experimenting for fun and happened to stumble across the silence factor."
That "just happened to stumble across" made Wu Bing's expression twitch.
What do you mean, not careful?!
She had spent years—her entire doctorate—searching for a drug that could unlock human potential. And this guy just… found it playing around?
"And drug research is just a side hobby. I only mess around with it when I've got time," Chen Mo added casually.
"Mess around"?
Wu Bing nearly choked.
She wanted to strangle Chen Mo right there, just to stop him from casually shattering her self-confidence any further.
She had poured the best years of her life into this. She was a dual PhD in medicine and biology—and somehow she still felt like an amateur next to this man who didn't even have a medical degree.
"Normally, I'm more into computers and physics. Oh, and machinery too. I haven't actually spent much time on biomedical research…" Chen Mo went on, as if he hadn't noticed her crumbling pride.
"Okay, okay, stop talking." Wu Bing interrupted quickly. "You're going to make me lose my will to live."
Chen Mo chuckled and wisely said no more.
Wu Bing turned her attention back to the lab—and her frustration was replaced by awe.
Fermentation tanks, PCR machines, microplate readers, high-precision electron microscopes, flow cytometers, DNA sequencers, high-efficiency chromatographs—everywhere she looked, there was cutting-edge equipment. All state-of-the-art. Many exceeded what her own professional lab had.
There were even robotic arms and automated systems, suggesting a push toward full automation.
This is insane. He's trying to automate biomedical research. And knowing Chen Mo, he might actually succeed.
If someone gifted me this lab, she thought for a second, I'd marry them on the spot.
She shook the thought away and focused on examining the lab thoroughly.
"You built this whole setup just for fun?" Wu Bing muttered. "It's better than my actual research lab."
"You know how it is—local tycoons like to buy the best of everything, even if it's just for show," Chen Mo joked.
"There's probably some truth to that… but who would believe you?" Wu Bing shot back. "This setup is way too professional to be 'just for show.'"
Chen Mo only shrugged, not offering a clear answer.
Wu Bing didn't press further. "Is this your only lab?"
"Do you think that's possible?" Chen Mo grinned. "I have physics labs, computer labs, chemistry labs, CNC automation labs, electronics labs, mechanical labs…"
Wu Bing's jaw dropped. "Are you out of your mind?"
She hadn't expected this level of madness.
So many specialized labs for one man—it was almost absurd. Was this genius or just wealthy boredom taken to the extreme?
If he had significant breakthroughs in each of those fields, then Chen Mo would be the greatest polymath in history.
"I'm not crazy," Chen Mo replied calmly. "I just like studying things. Today it's biomedicine, tomorrow it might be materials chemistry. I follow what interests me."
"You're ridiculous, you know that?" Wu Bing sighed.
For normal researchers, switching fields mid-research would be a massive waste of time and effort. But Chen Mo? He was just… capricious and brilliant enough to make it work.
"With your skills, have you considered joining the Academy of Engineering?" she asked.
"I already did. I'm a wild academician." Chen Mo chuckled. "But you know, if I work under the Academy's framework, everything moves slow. I'd be wasting time applying for grants and approvals. I've got my own resources—I don't need the bureaucracy."
"Too many rules," he added. "I'm like a wild bird. Put me in a cage, and I'll wither."
His point was clear.
The rigid structure of state-sponsored research didn't suit him. He needed freedom—especially since he couldn't openly share the real source of his tech. Pretending to develop slowly would be torture.
"…Fair enough," Wu Bing said, understanding his stance.
After chatting about biomedical knowledge a bit more, Wu Bing eventually left the lab.
—
"Brother Chen, about your request—the higher-ups are still discussing it. I'll let you know as soon as there's a decision," Li Chengzhi told him before leaving.
Once they were gone, Chen Mo's world settled down again.
With the superconducting computer nearing completion, he devoted himself entirely to its final development phase. At the moment, it was his top priority.
And finally—after a week of tireless effort—Mo Nu brought him the news.
The superconducting computer was officially complete.