My IQ has been increasing year by year.

Chapter 204 Invitation

Back in his office, he didn't rest.

He turned on the computer on the table, connected to the campus network, and with the hum of the fan inside the case, he opened a foreign academic database.

He typed Pierre into the search box.

The webpage loads very slowly, and the progress bar moves forward little by little.

The results confirmed his guess from last night.

Pierre has not disappeared; he is now sixty-five years old and still sits high in his position at the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton.

Li Jianming clicked on several academic reports and peer reviews about him.

The words piece together a picture of an arrogant, eccentric old man with an extremely bad temper.

He doesn't mentor many students, never participates in boring social events, and even ignores peer review invitations from many top academic journals.

He was like a tyrant guarding his castle, filled with undisguised contempt for the methodical mathematical research outside.

Li Jianming leaned back in his chair, looking at the long list of titles on the screen.

The gap is too big.

One is an ordinary university professor located in the heart of China, who rarely has the opportunity to attend conferences abroad; the other is a Fields Medal winner, a leading figure at the pinnacle of the world's mathematics center.

What separates them is not only the Pacific Ocean, but also an academic barrier that is insurmountable for ordinary people.

Two o'clock next year.

Li Jianming changed into clean clothes, walked out of the School of Mathematics building, crossed the playground, and arrived at the school's main administrative building.

He went straight up to the third floor and pushed open the door to the Foreign Affairs Office.

"Is Director Wang here?"

Li Jianming knocked on the open door.

The middle-aged man behind the desk looked up and quickly stood up.

"Oh, Professor Li, what a rare guest! Please come in and have a seat. Would you like some water?"

"I'm not drinking anymore."

Li Jianming waved his hand and sat down on the guest sofa opposite.

"Old Wang, I've come to ask you something. If I want to go to the United States now for an exchange program at Princeton, what are the procedures?"

Director Wang paused for a moment, then opened a drawer and took out a document.

"Princeton? That's great! Have they sent you a formal invitation? Is it for a conference or as a visiting scholar?"

"No invitation was sent."

Li Jianming looked at him.

"I went there privately because I wanted to find someone to ask me some academic questions."

The smile on Director Wang's face vanished.

He put down the documents in his hand and sighed.

"Professor Li, let's be frank. It's 2004 now. Going to the United States isn't like buying a train ticket to the provincial capital. Without a formal invitation letter issued by an American research institution, you can't even get past the threshold for an embassy interview."

"Isn't there absolutely no way to make an exception?"

"No, really."

Director Wang shook his head.

"Even with an invitation letter, the college has to submit a report, the university has to approve it, and you have to go through a political review. The whole process takes at least three months."

Li Jianming sat on the sofa without saying a word.

Seeing his ashen face, Director Wang felt a pang of pity and said something more.

"Professor Li, if you really want to go, quickly contact your acquaintances there, even if it's just a simple invitation to exchange ideas."

Li Jianming stood up.

"Okay, thank you, Lao Wang."

He turned and walked out of the Foreign Affairs Office.

acquaintance?

Where could he find someone he knew to pass on a message to that arrogant academic tyrant?

Even if you send a message, why should they send an invitation to a Chinese professor you've never met before?

This is a dead end.

the next day.

Li Jianming locked himself in his office.

At 7:30 in the morning, the sound of a cleaning lady pushing a cleaning cart could be heard in the corridor.

"Knock knock knock".

There was a knock on the office door.

"Professor Li, the cleaning is done. Please open the door so I can empty the trash can for you."

The cleaning lady called from outside the door.

"No need to clean!"

Li Jianming's voice came through the door, carrying a hint of irritation.

"Don't come in for the next few days! Don't touch anything in my house unless I call you!"

The aunt outside muttered a couple of words and pushed the cart away.

Li Jianming sat at his desk, on which lay a thick stack of USTC letter paper.

He uncapped the pen and looked down at the blank paper.

Unable to go to the United States, he could only try writing letters and sending them to the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton.

He wrote the first line in English on the paper: Dear Professor Pierre.

After writing this line, his pen stopped.

A drop of ink spreads across the paper.

He didn't know how to continue writing.

If it were just a casual conversation, with some polite inquiries, given Pierre's temperament, he would have glanced at such a letter from an unknown university and thrown it in the trash.

To explain the problem clearly, he had to write down Chen Zhuo's core idea of ​​discrete truncation in the letter.

But that's too dangerous.

Chen Zhuo's incomplete deduction was the starting point of Hodge's conjecture. Anyone with expertise would know how valuable it was at a glance.

If he were to write down the core formula on paper, put it in an envelope, and send it across the ocean, it would be tantamount to handing over Chen Zhuo's trump card to Pierre for nothing.

What if Pierre takes the lead and doesn't reply? What if Pierre uses the resources of Princeton to fly over and snatch him from the address on the letter?

Li Jianming was in a state of utter confusion.

He grabbed the letter with the salutation just written on it, crumpled it into a ball, and slammed it into the wastepaper basket at his feet.

He pulled out another piece of paper.

I wrote two lines of background information about fluid equations, but then felt it was inappropriate, so I crumpled it up and threw it away.

All day long, the only sounds in the office were tearing and crumpling paper.

On the third night...

The wastepaper basket was already overflowing with crumpled letter paper.

Li Jianming leaned back in his chair, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, and the ashtray in front of him was overflowing with cigarette butts.

He pulled open the bottom drawer, took out a small tin box, and opened it to reveal an ICBC passbook.

This was his life savings.

He opened the passbook and looked at the numbers on it.

Airfare to the United States is expensive, and expenses there are also high.

He was silently making plans in his mind.

If this money is not enough, he can go to the principal and apply for early retirement due to illness, receive his pension, and return the house allocated by the school.

He was willing to gamble his old body on gaining his freedom and being free from restrictions on traveling abroad.

He even planned that once he arrived at Princeton, he would squat outside the Institute for Advanced Study. If he didn't see Pierre in a day, he would squat there all day, and he would eventually see him.

For the sake of Chen Zhuo's future, it's not shameful for him, as a teacher, to sell everything he owns and go begging for food on the other side of the ocean.

Fourth day.

The morning sunlight streamed into the office through the glass.

Li Jianming was asleep, his head resting on the table, still clutching the red bankbook in his hand.

"Bang!"

A loud bang.

The office's wooden door was pushed open forcefully from the outside, hitting the wall and bouncing.

Li Jianming suddenly woke up with a start, dropping the passbook in his hand onto the table.

He raised his head.

Vice Dean Ding of the School of Mathematics stood at the door, his face flushed and his breathing uneven. He was clutching a copy of today's "Mathematics Guide" tightly in his hand.

"Old Ding? What are you doing?"

Li Jianming stood up with a frown.

Vice Dean Ding rushed to the desk, braced himself on the table, and stared intently at Li Jianming.

"Old Li, you told me the other day that the seminar in Shanghai was a complete mess, so you threw away the invitation?"

Li Jianming was stunned for a moment.

"Yes, I threw it away. Why?"

"Are you stupid!"

Vice Dean Ding slammed his hand on the table, making the teacups on it rattle loudly.

"Do you know what those sponsors did? Those nouveau riche real estate developers spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on appearance fees to bring people from Princeton to their newly developed science park!"

Li Jianming was still a little dazed and hadn't reacted yet.

"What's wrong with hiring people from Princeton? They've got money to burn..."

"They hired Pierre!"

Vice Dean Ding's voice cracked and echoed in the office.

"Pierre! The Fields Medal winner! That Pierre from the Institute for Advanced Study!"

He slammed the newspaper in his hand down in front of Li Jianming.

"These lunatics! They've practically dragged the Pope of Rome to a rural market! Everyone in the country is scrambling for tickets. People from Yenching University and Aurora University have chartered buses to Shanghai, and scalpers are selling tickets for 20,000 yuan each. Even our young teachers who wanted to join the fun have no way to get in!"

Vice President Ding became increasingly anxious as he spoke, and reached out to grab Li Jianming's arm.

"Where's your gold card for being a special guest? That gets you direct access to the main event and a front-row seat! Find it now!"

Li Jianming stood behind the table.

All he could hear was a buzzing sound.

Pierre.

Magic City.

The two words collided wildly in his mind, exploding like a thunderclap.

He spent three whole days writing a whole basketful of letters, even planning to sell his house, apply for medical retirement, and go across the ocean to beg for food to meet that math tyrant.

A group of real estate capitalists actually used a few checks to send a place just a few hours away by green train from Huizhou.

This is an absolutely absurd yet incredibly lucky cosmic joke.

Li Jianming's breathing became rapid. His eyes instantly became bloodshot.

"Old Li? Say something! Where's the invitation?"

Vice Dean Ding looked at his blank stare and felt a little scared.

Li Jianming abruptly shoved Vice President Ding's hand away.

He bypassed the large desk and lunged directly at the lower right side of it.

That wastepaper basket is there.

Because he gave a strict order not to let the cleaning lady into the house, this wastebasket hasn't been emptied for three whole days.

Under Vice Dean Ding's horrified gaze, Professor Li Jianming, who was usually always impeccably dressed and concerned with appearances, knelt heavily on the ground.

He stretched out his hands and stuck them directly into the plastic bin filled with trash.

"Old Li! Are you crazy?!"

The vice dean was so frightened that he took a step back.

Li Jianming couldn't hear what he was saying at all.

He frantically rummaged through things.

The crumpled letter paper was thrown on the floor, the ash-covered crumpled paper rolled into a corner, and a few dried tea leaves stuck to the back of his hand.

He didn't care about anything anymore.

He frantically searched through the bottom layer of clutter with both hands.

My finger touched a somewhat hard edge.

Li Jianming's movements stopped abruptly.

He held his breath, slowly closed his five fingers, and pinched the cardboard.

He carefully, as if dragging a priceless treasure, pulled the object out from under a thick layer of cigarette ash and waste paper. It was a dark red cardboard with a fine gold foil pattern around the edge.

Because he had rubbed it so hard, the cardboard was covered with creases of varying depths, and the gold powder had fallen off in a mottled state.

Li Jianming knelt on the ground, holding the dirty letter in his hands.

He lowered his head, and his shoulders began to tremble violently.

A hoarse sound, like a bellows being pumped, came from his throat.

He smiled.

The laughter grew louder and louder, and tears streamed down his face, landing on the dark red cardboard and spreading a little dust.

Vice President Ding stood to the side, watching his old friend, whose hands were covered in filth, laughing and crying at the same time, his mouth half-open, unable to utter a single word.

Li Jianming slowly stood up.

He ignored the dust on his clothes and the tears on his face.

He walked to the desk and placed the crumpled letter on the smooth wooden table.

He stretched out his hands and used the heels of his palms to press hard, little by little, onto the cardboard to smooth out the creases.

a bit.

Two times.

As the cardboard was smoothed out, the frenzy and excitement on Li Jianming's face gradually subsided.

Instead, there was an extremely profound calmness.

He opened the booklet and looked at the line of black French names.

He won't go to Shanghai like a devout pilgrim.

He's going to become an academic fraudster.

Chen Zhuo's incomplete derivation was the bait in his hand.

He wanted to use this bait to slap the face of this tyrant who found the world utterly boring because it was too ahead of its time.

As long as Pierre understands the method of severance, as long as this old madman can't help but speak up to correct him and show off the theoretical foundation in his mind.

Li Jianming would be able to extract the most core elements of modern algebraic geometry without missing a single character.

Then, he would take all of these things back to Huizhou.

Li Jianming opened the middle drawer.

He took out a blank envelope without a school letterhead.

He extracted the two most crucial pages from the stack of tattered manuscripts that he had rewritten, removing all background information.

Fold it in half, put it in an envelope, and seal it.

He unbuttoned his gray knitted vest, neatly stuffed the envelope into the inside pocket close to his chest, and patted it with his hand.

He looked up at Vice President Ding, who was still standing there in a daze.

"Old Ding."

Li Jianming's voice returned to its usual calmness, but it carried an undeniable decisiveness.

"Huh...huh? What's wrong?"

"Please let the department know for me; I'll have the teaching assistant teach my classes for the next couple of days."

Li Jianming walked to the coat rack, took off the old trench coat, and put it on.

"Find someone to help me."

"Go buy the earliest train ticket to Shanghai today."

Li Jianming buttoned up the trench coat one button at a time.

"Soft sleeper or hard seat is fine, and if you really can't buy those, standing tickets are okay too."

Vice Dean Ding looked at him.

"You...you're really going to Shanghai?"

"right."

Li Jianming walked to the door, grasped the doorknob, and glanced at Lao Ding.

The door was pulled open, and the wind from the corridor rushed in.

Li Jianming strode out without looking back, his leather shoes making a steady, powerful sound as they hit the floor.

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