My IQ has been increasing year by year.

Chapter 186 I'm going to take a look

Princeton summers have a heat that's filtered through the leaves.

The air conditioning in the small red brick building of the Institute for Advanced Study was running at full blast.

The corridor was so quiet that you could hear your own footsteps.

Pierre sat in his office leather chair. He was sixty-five years old, with gray hair that was meticulously groomed. On his desk sat a cup of warm black tea, without sugar or milk.

As a Fields Medal winner decades ago and now a senior editor of the Annals of Mathematics, he has clearly felt in recent years that he has not made much progress in mathematics. So he simply puts his remaining energy into the Annals of Mathematics, and now his main job every day is to look at the manuscripts sent to him by others.

But after watching too much of it, it actually gets quite boring.

A stack of first-round manuscripts, just brought from the editorial department, was on the table.

Pierre reached out and picked up the top one.

He glanced at the introduction, flipped to the middle and scanned the derivation process, shook his head, and put the manuscript in the rejection area on the right.

That's too formal.

A manuscript that panders to the reader, is overly cautious, and is afraid of offending the reviewers at any step of the derivation, is just a brick in the mathematical system, even if the logic is correct, and has no inspiration.

He picked up his teacup, took a sip, and then picked up the second cup.

A thick envelope with international stamps affixed to it.

The sender's address is printed with a line of English letters.

China University of Science and Technology.

Pierre remembered this school; it was one of the better universities in China.

He picked up the paper cutter, cut open the envelope, and pulled out a thick stack of A4 paper.

It has forty pages in total.

The paper was ordinary, but the layout was very neat.

Pierre habitually turned to the first page.

His gaze fell on the abstract and introduction sections.

The office suddenly became quieter, with only the slight hissing sound from the air conditioner vents.

Pierre's gaze lingered on those three short sentences.

The first line points out the inevitable collapse of continuity in infinite-dimensional networks.

The second line presents the philosophical paradox of local chaos and global conservation in discrete topological spaces.

The third line states the absolute dominance of algebraic invariants over geometric divergences.

There are no mathematical symbols.

There wasn't a single polite phrase like "This paper attempts to explore," "We believe," or "It may have the following significance."

There are only these three sentences.

Like three stones, cold and hard, they smashed onto the paper.

Pierre put down his teacup.

He leaned forward slightly.

He had been an editor at the Journal of Mathematics for so many years and had read countless manuscripts by geniuses, but he had never seen anyone dare to write something like this in the abstract.

This is not a summary at all.

This is practically a declaration of war against the entire traditional school of analysis.

A kind of arrogance.

Pierre's lips twitched, and a smile appeared on his face.

interesting.

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze moving downwards to the author's byline.

First author: ZhuoChen.

Second author: Tao Wu.

Corresponding author: Jianming Li.

Pierre raised an eyebrow.

The first author proposed such an arrogant theoretical framework, yet ceded the position of corresponding author to someone named Li.

People.

In academia, being a corresponding author means being responsible for communicating with the editorial office and dealing with all sorts of tricky questions from reviewers—a thankless and demanding job.

"They drop the bomb themselves and leave the rest to others to clean up."

Pierre muttered something to himself.

He turned the first page and began reading the main text.

For the next half hour, Pierre didn't move an inch.

The black tea beside me had gone completely cold.

His gaze swept through the dense array of derivation formulas, and the further he looked, the deeper the smile in his eyes grew.

The derivations in the first few pages are fairly standard, and it's clear that the writer has a solid foundation, but lacks a bit of inspiration.

Until I turned to Chapter 3.

The boundary between continuous and discrete domains.

Pierre's eyes changed.

That is a homology group mapping.

The method was too barbaric.

It's like facing a ribbon with a knot that's impossible to untie. A normal person would try to untie it little by little, but this person simply took out a rusty iron saw, sawed off the knot along with the surrounding ribbon, and then used a rough wire to forcibly twist the remaining two ends together.

Brutal, but effective.

It fits perfectly and is logically consistent.

"Unreasonable."

Pierre shook his head and closed the manuscript.

He placed the manuscript in the center of the table and gently patted it twice with his hand.

If this paper is published, those old guys from the analytical school will probably be cursing in their offices.

Pierre stood up and picked up the cold teacup.

He decided to go to the lounge to make himself another cup of tea and chat with someone; the manuscript was quite invigorating, more so than tea.

I walked out of the office and down the hallway.

The faculty lounge of the Institute for Advanced Study is at the end of the corridor.

Pushing open the door, you'll find several sets of fabric sofas inside, and a row of automatic coffee machines and snack cabinets against the wall.

Derian was sitting on a single sofa by the window, holding a copy of Physical Review Letters, with a half-cup of black coffee on the coffee table in front of him.

When the two of them meet, they always like to exchange a few words.

Pierre walked to the water dispenser, brewed himself another cup of black tea, and sat down opposite Derian.

"Derlian, you seem to be stuck on some string theory assumption and can't get out."

Pierre took a sip of tea and said casually.

Derian looked up from the magazine and tossed it onto the coffee table.

"Let's not talk about string theory."

Derian rubbed his temples.

"I'd rather spend all day doing fluid mechanics calculations. What Fields Medal-worthy manuscript did you receive today?"

"The Fields Medal is hard to say."

Pierre smiled and placed his teacup on the table.

"But I received a rather frightening challenge today."

"A challenge?"

Derian became somewhat interested.

"A manuscript from China."

Pierre leaned back and placed his hands on his knees.

"An article that uses algebraic topology to solve the problem of continuous calculus divergence is nothing special; people have done cross-disciplinary problem-solving before."

Pierre paused for a moment.

"What's interesting is this person's method. He used a discrete matrix to cut the continuous topology into pieces. There was no mathematical beauty in it. It was like building a bridge or paving a road. It was crude and direct, but it broke through that mathematical deadlock."

Upon hearing this, Derian paused for a moment.

"Use a discrete matrix to cut the continuous domain?"

Derian's tone changed slightly.

"right."

Pierre, oblivious to the change in Derian's expression, continued.

"What's even more interesting is his introduction. In the forty-page mathematical derivation, his introduction as the first author consists of only three sentences. He didn't even bother to prove his logic in the abstract. He directly declared that algebraic invariants have absolute dominance over divergent problems."

Pierre shook his head.

"I've been in this industry for forty years and I've seen many young and ambitious geniuses, but this is the first time I've seen someone throw out a conclusion and then dump all the after-sales service and review communication work on their colleagues."

"

"Is he not the corresponding author?" Derian asked.

"No, the first author is C. Zhuo from USTC, and the corresponding author is Li."

Pierre smiled.

"This C.Zhuo is like a hands-off manager."

The lounge was quiet for a few seconds.

The only sound is the humming of the coffee machine when it's in standby mode.

Derian's hand remained hovering over the edge of the magazine.

"You just asked what the first author's name is?"

Derian looked up at Pierre, his gaze becoming very focused.

"ZhuoChen".

Pierre recalled the pinyin on the first page.

"Huaguo University of Science and Technology"

Derian did not speak.

He looked at Pierre and slowly stood up from the sofa.

"Pierre, wait here for me for five minutes."

After saying that, Derian turned and walked quickly towards the door of the lounge.

Pierre watched Derian's retreating figure, somewhat puzzled. He picked up his coffee cup and took a sip.

Five minutes later, the door to the lounge was pushed open again.

Derian strode back, holding two printed documents in his hand.

He slammed the documents on the coffee table in front of Pierre, then sat back down on the sofa.

"Take a look at this."

Derian pointed to the top document.

Pierre put down his coffee cup and picked up the document.

It was a two-page PDF printout.

Pierre put on his glasses and glanced at it.

The book opens with a massive singularity equation, a problem of physical boundaries.

then.

He saw that familiar discrete algebraic model that forcibly cut off continuous integrals.

Pierre's pupils contracted slightly.

He looked up at Derian.

"It shares the same underlying logic as the homology group mapping in that article."

Pierre placed the documents on the table.

"Did he write this too?"

Last winter.

"Derrian said."

"David and I were stuck on the renormalization problem for six months. A preprint was posted online, and this guy sent an email, just two pages long, that flattened the dead end with discrete algebra."

Pierre looked at the two pages of paper on the table.

"So, he dropped a bomb on your physics side first," Pierre laughed. "No wonder that manuscript had a physics-like feel to it."

"It's not just that."

Derian pulled out the document below and handed it to Pierre.

"After receiving this answer, I sent him a formal invitation for an academic visit on behalf of the Institute for Advanced Study."

Pierre took the documents.

It was a printed copy of an official reply, sent by the USTC's foreign affairs department.

Pierre quickly scanned the English text above.

The entire document is filled with diplomatic rhetoric.

We thank Princeton for their recognition and highly value the prospects for academic exchange between the two sides.

Then we got to the main topic.

Professor Chen is not currently on campus.

"The relevant invitation has been conveyed."

"It is not convenient to conduct cross-border academic visits at the moment."

Watertight.

Like a soft, yielding wall, it completely rejected Princeton's invitation.

After reading the letter, Pierre placed it on the coffee table.

"You've been blocked by the USTC bureaucratic system."

Pierre said.

"This is not surprising. Many schools have these kinds of red tape. They may feel that an official invitation requires going through a lot of procedures."

"I thought so at first too."

Derian took a deep breath.

"David even checked the list of faculty and staff at USTC. We thought it was some big shot that USTC had recently recruited, or some unparalleled academician, but there was no such person on the list at all."

1

Derian looked at Pierre.

"Then, just when I thought it was hopeless, I received a private reply from him."

Derian took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Pierre.

This is the third document.

Pierre unfolds the paper.

There were no formalities or empty words.

Pierre looked at it intently.

"Dear Professor Derian... thank you for your praise..."

'

This is normal.

Look down.

"Regarding your invitation... I am unable to travel to the United States for an academic visit at the moment. This is not an excuse; it is simply due to objective circumstances."

Pierre paused for a moment.

Objective conditions do not allow it.

Combined with the vague rejection letter from USTC, Pierre naturally pictured a heavily guarded figure in his mind.

It's either due to health reasons, or he's carrying out a classified project that prevents him from leaving the country.

Pierre continued reading.

I saw the answer regarding physical boundaries.

"I must be honest, I cannot give you the answer you are looking for."

"This is just a tool... used to bypass infinity."

"As for whether there is a physical truth about the discontinuity of spacetime hidden behind it... that is beyond my understanding."

"Mathematics can be deceptive at times... I do not recommend treating a mathematical conclusion as a physical reality without rigorous physical proof and experimental data to support it."

Pierre finished reading the last line.

"ZhuoChen".

Pierre did not speak immediately.

He laid the paper flat on the coffee table and gently stroked its surface with his fingers.

As a mathematician, Pierre knew all too well how much those who pursued theoretical work in this era longed to cross boundaries.

Mathematicians are eager to use their own formulas to explain the origin of the universe, while physicists are eager to package mathematical tools as the will of God.

As long as the formula can be derived, who cares what the real world is like?

Publish the article first, seize the theoretical high ground first, and then talk about other things.

Faced with a question posed by a physicist of Derian's caliber, a young person eager to gain fame or a professor impatient to establish academic standing would undoubtedly seize the opportunity to launch into a lengthy discussion about the physical truth of the universe's boundaries, using this mathematical model as a springboard.

But this person didn't.

He went back.

He proactively drew a clear line between mathematics and physics.

He told Derian not to take my mathematical tools as truth; they were just tools.

sincere.

restraint.

It exudes a sense of returning to simplicity after seeing through the superficiality of academia.

"Objective conditions do not allow..."

'

Pierre repeated the sentence softly.

He looked up at Derian.

Derian nodded.

"Now you understand why I felt this was not a simple matter."

Derian pointed to the three documents on the table.

"USTC officials personally stepped in to turn down foreign invitations for him, and his reply to me revealed a complete lack of interest in fame, fortune, and cross-disciplinary titles."

Derian leaned forward, looking at Pierre.

"Pierre is no ordinary scholar. I even suspect that the University of Science and Technology of China removed his name from the faculty list because he was leading a major research project in China that was classified as extremely high-level."

Derian spread his hands.

"You just said that in his submission to the Annals of Mathematics, he threw out three challenging sentences and then ran away, not even taking on the role of corresponding author, leaving all the communication troubles to that colleague named Li."

Derian smiled.

"Doesn't that match up perfectly now?"

"He didn't have the time or energy to argue with the editorial department. He didn't need the fame. He provided the core ideas and let his colleagues do the hard work. This is the behavior of a leading figure."

Pierre looked at the black tea on the table and did not refute it.

Because it is logically too rigorous.

An old professor hiding behind the scenes.

Working on top-secret engineering projects, his mind was filled with crude and practical engineering thinking, and the mathematical models he wrote had a heavy industrial flavor.

Because of his extremely high status, he was utterly blunt with the traditional analytical school, issuing a direct challenge in just three sentences.

Having seen through the essence of academia, he maintained the oldest form of humility and restraint in front of physicists.

Because of their special status, the USTC authorities are taking strict precautions to prevent people from the US from contacting them.

perfect.

Pierre leaned back on the sofa and let out a long sigh.

"Derrian."

Pierre spoke, his tone unusually tinged with emotion.

"If that's the case, then this Professor Chen is probably the most interesting person I've met in recent years."

Pierre reached out and tapped on Chen Zhuo's private reply.

"He knows where the boundaries of mathematics lie; nowadays, very few people have that kind of composure."

Derian picked up his coffee, which had long since gone cold, and took a big gulp.

"Yes," Derian said.

"So after receiving this letter last year, I completely gave up on inviting him to Princeton. They've already made their point so clear. If I were to continue harassing him through official channels, it would seem like I'm being unreasonable."

The lounge fell silent again.

The sunlight outside the window shifted half an inch on the coffee table.

Pierre looked at the mathematical introduction and the email on the coffee table.

He suddenly laughed.

"I'm going to China in two months."

Pierre said casually.

"Go to Shanghai to attend that international topology conference."

Derian glanced at him.

"Go to your meeting, what are you talking to me about?"

"Shanghai isn't far from Huizhou, is it?"

Pierre turned to look out the window.

"The plane must be pretty fast."

Derian recalled.

Why are you asking this? Do you want to go to HKUST?

Pierre gathered the documents on the table and handed them back to Derian.

"I don't plan to send a review email directly to the corresponding author, Jianming Li."

Pierre stood up and straightened the hem of his suit jacket.

"If I send an email there, I'll definitely get the same treatment as you, a bunch of bland, bureaucratic replies."

Derian frowned.

"Are you crazy? You're planning to go see him directly? USTC officials won't let you see him. I couldn't even get close to him last year."

"I'm not contacting the USTC official channels."

Pierre walked to the door of the lounge, turned back to look at Derian, and gave a mischievous smile.

"After the meeting, I had five days of personal leave. I bought a regular train ticket and went to Huizhou by myself."

Pierre pushed open the door.

"I didn't bring an assistant, nor did I notify the Chinese side. I was just an old foreign man traveling in China, casually strolling around their school."

Pierre paused for a moment.

"I want to meet this interesting old friend, even if it's just bumping into him on campus, finding an empty classroom, writing a couple of problems on the blackboard, and having a cup of ordinary black tea."

Pierre looked at Derian.

"It would be a shame to deal with this unreasonable old guy only through cold, impersonal emails."

Derian sat on the sofa, watching Pierre walk out and the door slowly close.

He shook his head and did not try to dissuade him.

He was actually quite curious to see what that reclusive old sage, who could write about things that were not possible due to objective conditions, actually looked like.