After discussing matters with Wang Zhiyu, Zhao Cheng merely took a single step and arrived at another corner of the Academy of Sciences.
By now, some of the researchers here were no longer surprised by Zhao Cheng's sudden appearances.
It was not that no leading experts wanted to study the essence of Zhao Cheng's "superpower." From beginning to end, Zhao Cheng had never concealed anything. He was even happy to let people observe and research the phenomenon. If they could truly produce results, even the tiniest scrap of them, it would be worth it.
Even though Wisdom had now reached his level, Zhao Cheng still had to admit that an individual's cognition ultimately had limits. The most unique thing about every life was not the outward flesh-and-blood appearance of height, build, or weight, nor even inner qualities like will, courage, and virtue, but that elusive flash of inspiration.
Looking across several civilizations and countless eras, inspiration had always been a crucial factor at every key turning point in an age's development.
Of course, inspiration was not infinite; it too had its boundaries.
Yet without question, those momentary changes had forged civilization's dazzling brilliance.
Zhao Cheng even suspected that inspiration itself was a kind of higher-dimensional attribute—and an extremely elevated one at that, perhaps even a level above the higher dimensions forged by the Ten Heavenly Gates. That was why it was so unfathomable.
The gap between geniuses and mediocrities was by no means a difference in the speed of thought or computational power. Otherwise, artificial intelligence would be the greatest genius of all.
Yet the reality was that artificial intelligence could only perform mature calculations. It was almost impossible for it to achieve any tremendous pioneering breakthrough.
This was also evident in the future's cosmic light.
In fact, ever since