2: A world-shaking room-temperature superconductivity? But I don't have the money to build it!

"Make money?"

Wang Peng was baffled. His small eyes darted around Lu Chen, then he cautiously leaned in, lowering his voice, a thievish excitement on his face.

"Chen Zi, tell me honestly, do you owe loan sharks? Or... have you fallen for some streamer and want to send her rockets?"

He counted on his fingers, analyzing with a serious expression.

"I'm telling you, robbing a bank is illegal, we can't do that. But I heard there's an underground casino in the west of the city, how about..."

"Stop!"

Lu Chen cut off his good brother's dangerous suggestion, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

His mind was filled with world-changing technology, yet this guy was thinking about how to take him to rob a bank.

This huge cognitive dissonance left him momentarily speechless.

"What I mean is, a legitimate business." Lu Chen rubbed his throbbing temples, trying to make his tone sound more reliable.

"Legitimate business?" Wang Peng's expression immediately fell. He slumped onto Lu Chen's bed, uninterested, and the bed frame groaned under the strain. "Tsk, boring. How fast can a legitimate business make money? You might as well do a few more sets of 'Five Years of College Entrance Exams, Three Years of Mock Tests,' get into a good university, find a good job—now that's legitimate."

After speaking, he seemed to remember something and abruptly sat up straight.

"Wait, aren't you the top science student in our school, a future great scientist? Why are you suddenly so obsessed with money?"

Lu Chen fell silent.

He couldn't exactly say that his mind had just been filled with the complete technology for room-temperature superconducting materials, and he was worried about not having money to build it, could he?

If he said that, Wang Peng would probably pull out his phone on the spot, dial 120 skillfully, and help him book an appointment with a psychiatrist.

"I... have an idea." Lu Chen weighed his words, speaking half-truths. "An invention, it might be very valuable."

"An invention?" Wang Peng's interest was piqued again. "What invention? Can I see it?"

Lu Chen pointed to his head, which had just undergone an "expansion."

"It's in here."

Wang Peng pouted, clearly unconvinced.

"Alright, alright, I know you're smart. Tell me, how much startup capital do you need for this 'very valuable' invention?" He patted his chest, looking generous. "Just name a number, a few hundred or a few thousand, your brother here can help you scrape it together."

Lu Chen looked at him and calmly extended one finger.

Wang Peng paused, then tentatively asked, "Ten thousand?"

Lu Chen shook his head.

"A hundred thousand?" Wang Peng's voice was a little shaky. For a high school student, this was already an astronomical figure.

Lu Chen still shook his head.

"Holy crap! Don't tell me it's a million?" Wang Peng was completely stunned. He looked at Lu Chen as if he were an alien. "Chen Zi, are you crazy! A million is enough to buy a small apartment in my neighborhood! What kind of invention needs that much money?"

However, Lu Chen was still slowly shaking his head.

The air seemed to freeze at this moment.

Only the creaking sound of the old electric fan remained in the room, as if mocking some overestimation of one's abilities.

Wang Peng's mouth formed an "O" shape, wide enough to fit an egg. He looked at Lu Chen's calm finger, feeling his worldview being impacted like never before.

"One... one hundred million?"

His voice trembled.

Lu Chen finally withdrew his finger, sighed softly, and looked at him with an almost pitying gaze.

"One hundred million?"

"That's probably not even enough to buy parts for experimental equipment."

"…"

Wang Peng was utterly silent.

He silently stood up, walked to the door, opened it, then poked his head back in, looking at Lu Chen with the gaze one would give a child with intellectual disabilities, and earnestly said, "Chen Zi, I think you've been under too much study pressure lately. Stop playing games, go to bed early, okay?"

With a "bang," the door closed.

Finally, peace and quiet.

Lu Chen smiled helplessly. He knew that he couldn't explain this matter to Wang Peng, or to most people in this world.

His loneliness stemmed from knowledge beyond his era.

He sat back down in front of the computer, his eyes once again resolute.

Since he couldn't rely on anyone else, he would have to rely on himself!

He opened a blank document, his hands hovering over the keyboard, and took a deep breath.

The vast, cosmic knowledge flowed silently in his mind. He couldn't, and wouldn't, write everything down. That wasn't seeking cooperation; that was courting disaster.

What he needed to do was "fish."

The bait had to be enticing, unique, and make the fish eager to find the angler after tasting it!

In Lu Chen's mind, the entire theoretical system of room-temperature superconducting materials was rapidly deconstructed. Like a top surgeon, he precisely peeled off a small piece from it—the "new path conjecture for achieving superconductivity at standard atmospheric pressure."

This part did not involve any core material formulas or manufacturing processes.

But it was the foundation of the entire theoretical system!

It was like the general outline of a martial arts manual; any insider who saw it would immediately understand the earth-shattering secret hidden behind it!

It was enough to overturn all existing research directions in this field within the physics community, yet it wouldn't expose any substantive information.

Perfect!

A confident smile played on Lu Chen's lips, and his fingers began to tap rapidly on the keyboard.

Not a single wasted word, not a single superfluous explanation.

From title to end, the entire paper was written in one go, filled with a cold, rigorous, and undeniable beauty of logic.

After finishing, he reviewed it from beginning to end, confirming that there was no information that could expose his identity. He even deliberately left one or two insignificant "flaws" that could cause controversy, making it look more like an "immature conjecture" from a flash of genius.

Having done all this, he hacked into a foreign anonymous email server and registered a temporary email account.

For the recipient address, he filled in the officially published email of the Institute of Physics, Chinese Academy of Sciences.

For the subject, he only wrote four characters—[A Direction].

The body of the email was the paper itself.

No signature, no greeting, no extra words.

Click, send!

When the "Sent Successfully" prompt appeared on the screen, Lu Chen let out a long breath and leaned back in his chair.

The bait had been cast.

Now, it was just a matter of when the fish would bite.

He believed it wouldn't be long.

Just then, his phone chimed with a WeChat message from Wang Peng.

Lu Chen picked it up and saw only one sentence.

"Chen Zi, I've thought about the money. If you really need it urgently, I'll go home and steal my dad's secret stash for you! But... what exactly is that hundred-million-dollar invention of yours?"