My IQ has been increasing year by year.

Chapter 297 Separation

There was a knock on the door.

Not too fast, not too slow, stopping twice.

Chen Zhuo turned over in the blanket and opened his eyes.

The curtains were drawn, letting in very little light.

He stared at the ceiling for two seconds, still a little dazed.

The knocking continued.

Chen Zhuo threw off the covers and sat up, feeling a sharp pain in his right knee.

He reached out and ruffled his messy hair a couple of times before walking to the door.

Without looking through the peephole, I pressed the doorknob directly.

The lights in the corridor were a bit too bright, so Chen Zhu squinted to adjust his eyes.

There were three people standing outside the door.

David stood at the front, wearing a brand new dark blue suit and a neatly tied tie. He carried a bag in one hand and held two cups of coffee in the other, looking very energetic.

Behind David.

Sam and Allen leaned against the wall of the corridor like two pieces of wood that were about to die.

Sam had changed out of his hoodie, which was stained with dirty water. He was leaning against the wall with one hand and pressing the other hand tightly against his lower back, his face contorted in a grimace.

Allen isn't doing much better.

He changed into a clean shirt, but the buttons were fastened incorrectly. His eyes were glazed over, and he was clutching a stack of stapled printed paper tightly in his arms.

The four people looked at each other at the doorway.

There was no excited embrace after changing the world, nor any passionate slogans.

David glanced at Chen Zhuo's unruly hair and his wrinkled shirt.

"I think you should wash up and brush your teeth to wake yourself up."

David handed the bag he was carrying forward.

"I brought you a sandwich."

Chen Zhuo yawned and turned to the side.

"Come in."

David stepped into the room.

Sam shuffled in, practically squeezing through the doorway.

Sam's eyes swept around the room and immediately locked onto the single bed.

He walked over, his body tilted, and his weight of over 200 pounds slammed straight onto the mattress.

"My back is about to break."

Sam buried his face in the pillow that Chen Zhuo had just slept on, his voice muffled.

"I swear, I will never kneel on the floor to write code again. That's murder."

Allen ignored Sam.

He walked to the only desk in the room, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

He slapped the A4 papers he was holding onto the table.

David placed the bag on the corner of the table and handed Allen a cup of coffee.

Chen Zhuo placed the sandwich David had given him on the table and then went into the bathroom.

Soon, the sounds of running water and brushing teeth came from the bathroom.

The room was quiet for a while.

Allen took a sip of hot coffee.

He lowered his head and reached out to flip over the A4 paper on the table.

This is a high-resolution photo that David had someone take of the blackboard and table in that top-secret warehouse this morning, and then a copy was printed out.

Allen stared at the first page.

The paper is covered with physics equations that he wrote down in red chalk last night.

He looked very carefully.

His brows furrowed slightly.

"Sam."

Allen suddenly spoke, his voice a little hoarse.

The person on the bed stirred.

"What are you doing?" Sam didn't look up.

"Come and take a look."

Allen pointed to a line of formulas on the paper.

Sam sighed, braced himself on the mattress, struggled to his feet, walked to the desk, and bent down.

"What are you looking at?"

Look here.

Allen's finger pointed to a spot on the paper.

"Did I write this?"

Allen turned his head and looked at Sam.

Sam stared at that spot for a while.

"The handwriting is yours, it's red. You stole my chalk last night and wrote on it, so what?"

"Was I out of my mind back then?"

Alan's voice carried a deep sense of self-doubt.

He pointed down the line of formula.

"Look at this step, the graviton tensor is suddenly canceled out here, which is completely illogical. Without the addition of gravitons, the tension of the string membrane collapsing outward simply cannot be maintained. How could I dare to directly reset the parameters to zero here?"

In a state of extreme excitement and mental exhaustion, many of the judgments people make are intuitive.

After waking up from a nap, and with reason regaining its hold, looking at what I had left behind felt like looking at a stranger's manuscript.

That's exactly how Allen feels right now.

A math hangover.

He looked at the conclusion he had drawn and felt it was absurd, yet he also vaguely felt that something about it was correct.

Sam looked to the side, following Allen's finger.

My gaze passed over the red physics equation and landed on the white vertical line next to it.

"You deleted it because of this line."

Sam pointed to the white line and the quotient space symbol next to it.

"Come and look over here."

Sam flipped the A4 paper two pages back to his own section of yellow pseudocode.

Me too.

Sam pointed to the loop exit at the bottom of the code.

"When I was writing this Monte Carlo variant last night, I only had one thought in my mind, which was to keep calculating, but look at this boundary constant C."

Sam looked up at Allen.

"I actually attached the loop exit to a completely unknown constant, which is suicidal in computer logic. It will definitely cause a memory overflow and crash."

But it didn't.

David, leaning against the windowsill, sipping his iced Americano, interjected.

"I had someone go to the lab this morning and run your code in the computer room. It converged perfectly on the boundary of constant C."

Sam wasn't surprised; he just stared at the letter C on the paper.

"Of course it will converge."

Sam reached out and tapped the mapping symbol next to the white line.

"Because someone built a wall before the physical crash and the code crash."

The sound of water running in the bathroom stopped.

Chen Zhuo wiped his face with a towel and walked out.

He glanced at the two people gathered around the desk.

"Did you wash your face?" Chen Zhuo asked.

"I'm not in the mood to wash."

Sam turned around and looked at Chen Zhuo.

He pointed to the papers on the table.

"Chen, what were you thinking when you drew this line last night?"

Chen Zhuo draped the towel over the back of the chair.

He walked to the table, reached for the sandwich, tore open the wrapper, took a big bite, and the aroma of bacon and fried egg filled the air.

As Chen Zhuo chewed, he glanced at the commercial space symbol on the paper.

"I didn't think about it much."

Chen Zhuo swallowed the food in his mouth.

"You two were about to fight. Your array was about to overflow, and his physics field was about to collapse."

"If we don't cut out the unnecessary variables, you won't finish calculating even if you keep doing it until next year."

Chen Zhuo took another bite of the sandwich.

"So I used algebraic loops to cut them out, converting all the divergent possibilities into a single point."

He spoke casually, as if he were saying that the fried eggs he made this morning were a little salty.

Allen looked at him.

"It's that simple?"

"It's that simple." Chen Zhuo nodded. "Mathematics is just a tool; as long as it works, that's enough."

Sam turned his head and exchanged a glance with Allen.

The two of them sighed at the same time.

David threw the empty paper cup in his hand into the trash can.

He left the windowsill and went to his desk.

"Is the debriefing over?"

David looked at the three of them.

"The logic is sound, the derivation is correct, right?"

Allen nodded.

"It's self-consistent at the physical level; that constant is the boundary of the string membrane."

Sam nodded in agreement.

"The algorithm runs successfully, and its efficiency is two orders of magnitude higher than that of traditional Monte Carlo methods."

David placed his hands on the edge of the table.

"it is good."

"Now let's talk about practical issues."

David's gaze swept across their faces.

"Things outside are going crazy."

"Harvard and Princeton have been calling so many times that my assistant has had to turn off his phone. Hundreds of people are searching for you all over the world."

David reached out and tapped the A4 sheet of paper.

"If we just throw these things out there, the entire academic world will be shaken up."

"but."

David stared at Allen and Sam.

"How do you plan to distribute this?"

The room fell silent for a moment.

Allen frowned.

"What's the problem?"

Allen pointed to the data on the table.

"The data is all here. Organize it into a long paper, including algebraic derivations, physical field evolution, and code implementation, and submit it directly to the journal."

"This is absolutely sensational."

David looked at Allen.

Look at him with a questioning look, as if to say, "How did you end up in your parents' house with such a big problem?"

"To whom?" David asked in return.

Allen paused for a moment.

David pointed to the three colors on the paper.

"The underlying logic of pure algebraic geometry, the dimensionality reduction physics of an eleven-dimensional string membrane, and a variant algorithm that forcibly restricts variables."

"The three of you stitched together an extremely large scientific monster in that run-down tavern last night."

David's tone was calm.

But his words were sharp and cutting.

"If you were to compile this into an article according to your ideas, how long would it be?"

"One hundred pages? Two hundred pages?"

"Alan, you're a physicist, can you tell me how many pages are typically in Physical Review Letters?"

Allen's breath hitched.

Four pages.

Allen answered.

"Yes, four pages."

David straightened up.

"Top journals are top-tier because they pursue ultimate simplicity and elegance."

"If you submit this Frankenstein's monster that's over a hundred pages long."

"Physics reviewers would find Chen Zhuo's dozens of pages of purely algebraic quotient space derivation tedious and space-consuming."

"Looking at Sam's dense array of computer code, you would think it's a software manual, ruining the elegance of the physical theory."

David turned to look at Chen Zhuo.

"If you submit it to the Annals of Mathematics."

"Those old men who regard pure mathematics as the language of God will find themselves looking at pages and pages of graviton tensors and Monte Carlo code for engineering."

"Hehe."

David looked at the three men.

"No one will doubt the value of this document; once it appears, it will always be thoroughly studied."

"but."

David straightened the cuffs of his suit.

"It's too bulky and ugly."

"It gets stuck on the typesetting editor's desk, and different reviewers pass the buck between each other."

"This is not a gesture to change the world."

"We don't need to knock on doors with a garbage bag full of gold nuggets; that's not respectable."

Only David's voice echoed in the room.

Sam scratched his head.

"What should we do then?"

Sam looked at the papers on the table.

"Delete my code? But without data to verify the algorithm, the physical theory is just an empty shell."

"Delete the physical scene?" Allen immediately rejected the idea.

"Without the physical constraints of the string membrane, Chen's algebraic truncation would become pure theoretical talk, and people would think it's just a pretty mathematical game."

Three top minds, facing the layout and aesthetic rules of the academic world.

Silence fell.

Chen Zhuo finished the last bite of his sandwich.

He took out a tissue and carefully wiped the oil stains off his fingers.

Then throw the crumpled paper into the trash can.

He walked to the table and picked up a pen from the pen holder.

Why insist on combining them into one piece?

Chen Zhuo looked at them.

All three of them turned to look at him.

Chen Zhuo took the A4 paper over.

He turned to the first page.

I drew a circle on the part that only contained algebraic symbols with a ballpoint pen.

"Since it's bloated."

"Then dismember it."

Chen Zhuo's tone was very calm.

He looked at Allen and Sam.

"Let's cook this fish three ways, or rather, let's form a team."

Allen didn't understand.

"What do you mean?"

Chen Zhuo used the tip of his pen to mark the area he had circled.

"I've completely stripped the physical meaning and your algorithm from my logic."

"I only write pure mathematics."

"I will prove in the simplest terms that this quotient space mapping holds true under a specific topological structure, and that algebraic loops can be absolutely truncated."

Chen Zhuo put down his pen.

"This purely mathematical paper will not exceed ten pages."

"I submitted my paper to the Yearbook of Mathematics."

He turned to look at Allen.

"Alan, you're writing physics."

Chen Zhuo pulled out the piece of paper with red chalk writing on it and pushed it in front of Alan.

"You don't need to prove my math is correct in your paper, nor do you need to explain the code."

"You directly quote my conclusion published in the Annals of Mathematics on the first line of your paper, treating it as an indisputable axiom."

"Then, based on this axiom, we can purely derive your two-dimensional string membrane vacuum state."

"This physics article fits perfectly into a four-page layout."

"You submitted to PRL, a top-tier physics journal."

Allen's eyes widened slightly.

Chen Zhuo looked at Sam one last time.

"You're using my and Allen's papers as the underlying logic for your argument."

Chen Zhuo pointed to Sam's code.

"You only discussed how to achieve convergence of local algorithms under given constant boundaries and physical field constraints."

"You submitted your paper to a top computer science conference."

The room was completely silent.

David leaned against the windowsill.

Looking at Chen Zhuo, a glint of light flashed in his eyes.

Sam stroked the stubble on his chin.

My mind works incredibly fast.

"Break it down into smaller parts."

Sam muttered to himself.

"In this way, all reviewers can focus on their own field without having to look at papers from other fields or complain about others taking up space."

"Each piece is the purest and most elegant form in its respective field."

"and."

Allen took a deep breath and continued Sam's words.

"When our three papers, each published in a top journal in a different field, are released simultaneously..."

"The anchors below refer to each other."

The three of them, at the same time, published three papers with interconnected bases.

Simultaneously bombarding the highest halls of the three major fields of mathematics, physics, and computer science.

but.

Alan looked at Chen Zhuo.

His expression gradually became serious.

"List."

Allen spoke, his voice very low.

"Do you know what doing this means?"

Chen Zhuo leaned against the edge of the desk.

He didn't speak.

Allen pointed to his physics manuscript.

He then pointed to Sam's code.

"If we split it as you suggested."

"My physical derivation and Sam's computer algorithm will all be built on your mathematical proof."

Allen stared intently at Chen Zhuo.

"Your algebraic truncation paper submitted to the Annals of Mathematics is the flagship of our team."

"It is the foundation of all of us."

Allen paused for a moment.

"If there is even a tiny flaw in your mathematical proof, and the reviewers of the Annals of Mathematics find it."

"If your mathematics is overturned."

"Then the axioms that Sam and I cited no longer exist."

"Our articles will instantly become illogical pieces of paper, and may even become a laughing stock in academia."

Sam didn't say anything.

He just looked at Chen Zhuo.

In academia, they base their core research entirely on a completely new theory that has not yet undergone peer review.

It's an act that's almost like gambling with your life.

Once the foundation collapses, the academic reputation of the citation will suffer a devastating blow.

They are now.

It's like giving up your future and all the research you've put in over the past few years.

Without reservation, all the burden was placed on the shoulders of this fourteen-year-old boy.

Chen Zhuo looked at Alan's serious eyes.

He didn't pat his chest and guarantee that his math was absolutely correct, nor did he say any nonsense about ensuring that everything was foolproof.

He simply turned his head to look at the paper on the table and chuckled softly.

"So, do you dare to bet?"

Chen Zhuo asked the question casually.

There was no provocation; it was like asking them if they wanted to grab a coffee later.

Allen looked at him for a while.

Allen suddenly laughed.

He reached for his manuscript page, folded it twice, and stuffed it into his shirt pocket.

"What wouldn't I dare to do?"

Allen spoke in a relaxed tone.

"If it weren't for your line last night, I might never have even touched the edge of a vacuum in my entire life. If we lose, we'll just start over."

Sam rolled over in bed, and the mattress protested again.

Count me in.

Sam stared at the ceiling.

"Anyway, my memory was going to overflow anyway. If it can run once, I've already recouped my investment."

David watched these three people, who were vastly different in age and from completely different fields.

In this room.

An academic alliance was formed so casually.

There is no contract.

There was no oath.

It all came down to a few pages of manuscript and trust in each other's intellect.