My IQ has been increasing year by year.

Chapter 214 is broken.

In the mornings in Huizhou, the air always carries a lingering chill.

When Fang Shi opened the office window, the fog outside was thick, obscuring the teaching building of the Faculty of Science so that only a blurry outline remained.

He turned around, put the cup he had used for many years back on the table, and threw in a small handful of jasmine tea.

The water in the kettle had just boiled, bubbling and steaming.

The Taoist priest picked up the kettle, poured hot water into the cup, and watched the curled-up dry leaves tumble and unfurl in the water.

He has a habit of checking his emails before officially starting work.

That was in 2004. The USTC campus network would occasionally become unbearably sluggish due to excessive traffic.

The Taoist priest sat down, pressed the power button on the computer host, and the screen flickered a few times before the cold white desktop background appeared.

I had just picked up my teacup and hadn't even had a chance to take a sip when the landline on my desk rang.

"Old Fang! Your school's become famous!"

On the other end of the phone was his old classmate from the Max Planck Institute, whose voice carried an excitement that could be heard even across the Atlantic.

The Taoist priest paused for a moment, then grabbed the microphone.

"What's all the fuss about so early in the morning? I don't know anything about what's going on at HKUST, why is it so hot?"

"You really don't know anything at all!"

My old friend was yelling on the other end of the phone.

"Do you know Pierre published an open letter? Princeton's Listserv is in an uproar! Gray, Durand, and those old guys are being cursed out of their wits."

"Pierre said that C. Zhuo was his only disciple in his entire life, and he's only 13 years old. I remember you were just bragging to me the other day that you have a 13-year-old special assistant in your lab, surnamed Chen?"

Click.

The phone in the Taoist priest's hand fell onto the table.

He moved the mouse stiffly and clicked on the nationwide announcement that had been forwarded more than a dozen times and finally ended up in his inbox.

He opened the announcement.

The light from the screen shone on his glasses, reflecting lines of minimalist, even somewhat somber, English characters.

[Statement regarding the manuscript "Discrete Mapping and Singularity Convergence in Large-Scale Network Topologies" (Issue No. 211).]

The sorcerer's eyelid twitched.

He was aware of this paper.

Two months ago, he had seen that unfinished draft in Li Jianming's office.

At that time, he only felt that Chen Zhuo's mathematical intuition was somewhat extraordinary, and that he would definitely achieve great things in mathematics in the future.

But he didn't expect it to happen so soon.

The sorcerer continued reading.

I take back what I said today.

[...because I found the person who was born to wield this axe.]

Chen Zhuo was my last and only disciple during my academic career.

The cup in the sorcerer's hand made a sound.

The teacup lid wasn't placed securely; it slid down the rim of the cup, hit the solid wood table, and spun several times.

A few drops of tea splashed onto the back of the Taoist priest's hand.

It's a little hot.

But he didn't feel any pain; he just stared intently at the words "only" and "13 years old" on the screen.

The sorcerer leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh.

He has supervised doctoral students in the physics department for so many years and has seen quite a few geniuses.

Some of those children had amazing calculation abilities, while others had keen intuition, but in his eyes, they were still within the realm of students.

But Pierre's letter directly lifted Chen Zhuo from his student status and threw him onto a pedestal.

That's not a compliment.

That was a crown.

The Taoist priest turned his head and looked at the thick, impenetrable fog outside the window.

He suddenly remembered that a while ago, Chen Zhuo had helped them solve the underlying fluid algorithm model in the wind tunnel laboratory.

At that time, the alchemist thought Chen Zhuo was a super useful secret weapon.

He feels a chill on his back now.

He realized that he might have been keeping a master who could usher in a new era doing the work of a tinkerer in a laboratory.

"broken."

The sorcerer suddenly stood up.

He was moving too fast and knocked over the folder next to him, scattering a stack of lab reports all over the floor.

The sorcerer didn't bother picking up the papers; the first thought that flashed through his mind wasn't Pierre, nor discrete algebra.

It's Zhou Qiping.

That was the vice president of USTC, a pragmatic man with a keen sense for administrative indicators, and a cunning old fox who could squeeze the maximum KPIs out of all honors.

Fang Shi knew Zhou Qiping too well.

If Zhou Qiping sees this letter, and if the people in the administration building realize that Chen Zhuo is now Pierre's chosen sole successor in the world, then there will never be a quiet desk on the USTC campus again.

That's creating a god.

That was putting Chen Zhuo on the fire to roast.

The Taoist priest grabbed the old jacket draped over the back of the chair and haphazardly put it on. He even buttoned one of the buttons wrong, but he didn't care. He grabbed the keys on the table and rushed out.

He had to block the administrative door before Zhou Qiping could call the propaganda department people to his office.

The sorcerer walked quickly, his leather shoes crunching on the withered leaves.

The mist hit his face, damp and cold, which cleared his head, which was feverish from shock.

He strode up the steps of the administration building. The door on the third floor was at the end; that was Zhou Qiping's office.

Before he even reached the door, the Taoist priest saw a familiar figure.

Li Jianming was standing there.

He looked even more disheveled than the sorcerer.

Li Jianming's already sparse hair was blown into a mess by the wind. He was clutching a file folder tightly in his arms, and with his other hand he hesitated whether to push the door open.

The sorcerer stopped, took a breath, and whispered something.

"Old Li!"

Li Jianming was startled and turned around abruptly.

His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked like he had just gotten up from in front of the computer screen, or perhaps he hadn't slept all night.

"You're not asleep either?"

Li Jianming looked at the Taoist priest, his tone carrying a sense of urgency, as if he had just survived a catastrophe.

"Sleep my ass."

Fang Shi walked up to him, glanced down at the file bag in Li Jianming's arms, and could vaguely see the English letters of the copy of "Annals of Mathematics" at the seal.

"You knew all along?" the sorcerer asked.

"All of humanity knows now."

Li Jianming gave a wry smile and pointed to the tightly closed door.

"That madman Pierre, he's not taking on apprentices, he's setting us up for a challenge. The moment he yelled, mathematicians all over America and Europe were watching this point in Huizhou."

The Taoist priest stared into Li Jianming's eyes and immediately launched into a complaint.

"You old Li, Chen Zhuo caused such a stir at Princeton, Pierre even issued a denunciation, and you didn't give me a single word?"

Fang Shi lowered his voice, his tone laced with anger: "Do you even care about our relationship within the Faculty of Science? You know perfectly well that he's still my specially appointed assistant, and you're letting him shoulder such a huge responsibility all by himself?"

Li Jianming choked for a moment, opened his mouth, and the bitterness on his face became even more pronounced.

"Old Fang, stop trying to label me like that."

Li Jianming hugged the file bag in his arms even tighter.

"When Pierre came to Huizhou, I only chatted with him briefly. How could I have known that after he went back, he would detonate an atomic bomb in Princeton?"

He paused, his gaze turning to the window at the end of the corridor with a complex expression.

"He even insulted Gray, calling him blind. Do you think I, an ordinary math professor, can control that tyrant?"

"Then what are you doing here now?" the sorcerer asked.

"Just like you."

Li Jianming sighed and nodded his chin toward the door.

"You know Zhou Qiping, the phone on his desk is never quiet for more than three minutes."

"I estimate his blood pressure is now at 180."

Li Jianming lowered his voice, his tone becoming serious: "Chen Zhuo is only thirteen years old. Pierre's slap in the face to the Western mathematics community may have felt good, but what about the consequences? What will those old guys think of Chen Zhuo?"

The sorcerer fell silent.

Looking at Li Jianming's anxious face, his anger gradually subsided.

They've spent most of their lives in academia, and they know all too well the shadows behind those pedestals.

If Chen Zhuo were just a talented student, he could have quietly honed his skills at USTC for several years.

But now, he is the only one.

This means he has to face the most critical, malicious, and even prejudiced scrutiny in the world.

Even with Pierre holding the line.

"Can our Faculty of Science protect him with what we have?" Fang Shi asked softly.

Li Jianming remained silent.

He reached out and patted the hard file folder.

Even if we can't protect them, we must protect them.

Li Jianming looked at the large door.

"Zhou Qiping definitely wants to use this as an excuse to make Chen Zhuo a living billboard for USTC, through publicity, interviews, guaranteed admission, and maybe even to go to Beijing to receive some kind of youth award."

"If he sets this precedent, Chen Zhuo will be ruined."

The Taoist priest nodded, and the two exchanged a glance in the corridor.

In that instant, the slight animosity that had arisen between the Physics Department and the Mathematics Department over the competition for talent vanished completely.

They are now facing the same enemy.

Or rather, it's a kind of extremely fanatical and blind protectiveness stemming from the administrative system.

"Let's get some air out."

The sorcerer took a step forward.

"When we go inside, you play the good cop, and I'll play the bad cop."

"become."

Ji Jianming gritted his teeth and reached out to tidy up his messy hair.

"You handle your side of the discussion, and I'll handle the academic pace and that old man's temper."

"In short, no order coming out of this door today can make Chen Zhuo move an inch out of that old library before the holiday."

The Taoist priest nodded and reached out to grasp the doorknob.

My hands are cold.

Behind the door, Zhou Qiping's slightly hoarse but extremely excited voice could be faintly heard.

"Yes, yes, it has to be on the front page... no, preferably a special feature..."

'

Fang Shi and Li Jianming exchanged a glance.

Li Jianming took a deep breath and nodded to the Taoist priest.

The sorcerer suddenly pushed open the door with all his might.

>