My IQ has been increasing year by year.

Chapter 303 A Long-Awaited Friend

The bathroom lights were on, the faucet was running, and cold water was flowing down.

Chen Zhu bent down, scooped up a handful of cold water with both hands, and splashed it directly on his face.

The cool water temperature sobered him up a bit.

He wiped his face with his hand, turned off the tap, reached for the towel hanging next to him, casually wiped his face a couple of times, dried his hair until it was half dry, and then put the towel back on the rack.

As soon as I stepped out of the restroom, I heard a commotion coming from a corner of the lobby.

That's the beeping sound a fax machine makes when it receives a signal.

Chen Zhuo stopped and turned to look.

The Panasonic fax machine lit up with a green light, and the motor inside started turning, making a familiar creaking sound. Then, a sheet of white paper slowly emerged from the paper output slot at the bottom.

Chen Zhuo walked over.

He reached out his hand in front of the fax machine; the paper, still warm from the machine's operation, bore the Princeton University emblem.

It was a note from Cyril.

The English handwriting above is somewhat messy, with letters connected together, showing that the writer wrote it very quickly, even hastily.

Chen Zhuo leaned against the edge of the table next to him, holding the note and looking down at it.

"Chen, the draft has been received."

"I just looked at the discrete truncation operator on the first page, and frankly, I've never seen such an algebraic structure that completely bypasses continuous manifolds before; it's incredible."

"I've already called and woken up two old guys on the peer review committee, but this is definitely not something we can understand while having breakfast. We need a few days to verify its underlying closed loop."

I'll contact you if there are any problems.

Chen Zhuo read it line by line.

Chen Zhuo folded the paper twice, walked to the table, and stuffed it under his notebook.

After doing all this, Chen Zhuo raised his head and glanced at the clock on the wall.

It's 6:05 a.m. Boston time.

He walked to the bar and picked up the landline phone from it.

It should be 6 PM in China right now.

By this time, it was almost dark. The students had just finished dinner at school and were about to start their sleepy evening self-study session.

Chen Zhuo leaned against the bar counter, pressing a long string of numbers on the buttons. The international long-distance code was added before the numbers, followed by a domestic landline number.

That was the phone number of the convenience store at No. 1 Middle School that Zhang Qiang had given him in advance.

Chen Zhuo held the receiver, listening to the long beeping sound coming from it.

The morning in Boston was quiet, and the sky outside the window slowly brightened. But on the other end of the phone, across half the globe, a sudden burst of noise erupted.

"Feed? Who?"

The call connected, and the loud voice of the convenience store owner came through.

The background noise was chaotic, with the sound of an aluminum can falling to the ground, the laughter and shouts of boys pushing and shoving each other, and the crisp sound of coins being tossed into a metal box.

"Aunt."

Chen Zhuo spoke, his voice gentle.

"I'm looking for Zhang Qiang from Class 3, Grade 11."

"Zhang Qiang? Wait a minute, I'm settling the bill here."

The proprietress shouted at the top of her lungs.

"Zhang Qiang from Class 3, Grade 11! Zhang Qiang from Class 3, Grade 11!"

The proprietress shouted into the loudspeaker, her voice drowning out all the noise in the shop.

"Come answer the phone right now! It's an international call! It costs several dollars a minute, don't keep them waiting!"

Chen Zhuo held the phone, and upon hearing this long-awaited sound, his smile deepened.

A series of hurried footsteps came from the other end of the phone. Someone was pushing through the crowd, shouting incoherently.

"Excuse me, excuse me, Auntie, my phone."

After a rustling sound, the microphone was picked up.

"Feed?"

Zhang Qiang's voice came over; he was a little out of breath, and he was clearly still chewing something in his mouth.

Have you eaten yet?

Chen Zhuo looked at the red oak tree outside the French windows and asked softly.

There was a two-second pause on the other end of the phone.

"Holy crap, Brother Zhuo?"

Zhang Qiang's voice suddenly rose, making the receiver buzz.

"You're really making an international call? Wow, have you struck it rich in America? Those phone calls are so expensive!"

Chen Zhuo switched hands to hold the phone.

"good."

Chen Zhuo smiled.

"What are you eating?"

"Grilled sausage."

Zhang Qiang spoke indistinctly, and you could still hear him slurping his saliva.

"The proprietress grilled it way too burnt today; her hands are covered in oil. I even got the microphone greasy from touching it. How are you doing over there? Are you getting used to the food?"

"It's fine," Chen Zhuo said.

"What a load of rubbish! I saw on TV that they only serve hamburgers over there, not even a single stir-fry dish."

Zhang Qiang swallowed the sausage in his mouth and let out a long sigh.

"What's wrong?" Chen Zhuo asked.

"Don't even mention it."

Upon hearing Chen Zhuo's question, Zhang Qiang immediately poured out his grievances, his voice filled with the despair and frustration typical of high school students.

"High school is simply not a place for humans. You have no idea. Midterm exams are next week. I thought I could keep up in junior high, but now that I'm in the first year of high school, physics is like a book written in heaven."

I heard the sound of plastic bags rubbing together on the other end of the phone, and someone was shouting from the side.

"Brother Qiang, the preparation bell is about to ring, hurry up!"

"Okay, okay!"

Zhang Qiang shouted something to the person next to him, then continued to complain into the microphone.

"That Newton's second law, what force analysis? The wooden block on the inclined plane also needs to decompose gravity. When I draw that force diagram, it looks like a spider web, and I can't get the calculation right no matter what I do."

Zhang Qiang's voice grew increasingly aggrieved as he spoke.

"This afternoon in physics class, the teacher called on me to answer a question. I stood there for a long time without being able to say a word, and he scolded me in front of the whole class. Brother Zhuo, I feel like I'm going to get a single-digit score on my physics midterm exam."

Chen Zhuo listened to Zhang Qiang's complaints.

I could hear popular songs playing on the radio from a high school campus in China, with the female announcer's voice faintly coming through.

Chen Zhuo leaned against the edge of the bar, listening quietly.

"Don't just blindly follow the existing conditions when drawing the diagram."

Chen Zhuo's voice was soft and gentle, with a hint of soothing.

"Start on that slope, draw a vertical auxiliary line, and calculate it as two separate parts. Don't rush."

"Vertical auxiliary lines? Wouldn't that make things even more confusing?"

Zhang Qiang scratched his head, looking a little lost.

"Never mind, I'll think about it again during evening self-study. If all else fails, I'll just copy my deskmate's work tomorrow."

Chen Zhuo chuckled softly and didn't continue with the physics problem.

He changed the subject.

Did you receive the item I sent you last month?

Upon hearing this, Zhang Qiang on the other end of the phone seemed to have been suddenly stepped on the tail. His voice changed instantly, and the previous worries and despair vanished, replaced by uncontrollable excitement.

"Received it! Received it a while ago!"

Zhang Qiang's excited voice came through the receiver.

"You're a real shill. That Kobe NBA jersey, oh my god, when we opened the packaging, everyone in our dorm was green with envy."

Chen Zhuo listened, changed his posture, and didn't interrupt, letting him show off.

"Our school just held its autumn sports meet a couple of days ago, and on the last day there was a friendly basketball match between first-year high school students."

Zhang Qiang spoke with great enthusiasm, spittle flying everywhere.

"It was a bit cold that day, and we were required to wear long-sleeved autumn school uniforms. Guess what I did?"

"What's wrong?"

Chen Zhuo followed up on his words and asked.

"I just wore that wide-shouldered jersey over my long-sleeved school uniform!"

Zhang Qiang burst out laughing on the other end of the line.

"That bright red jersey, with a big number 1 printed on the back, as soon as I stepped onto the court, wow, all the girls in the stands were staring at me."

Someone called out on the other end of the phone.

"Qiangzi, the bell really rang! The head of student affairs is in the hallway!"

"Right away!"

Zhang Qiang quickly replied.

Then, he lowered his voice on the phone, his tone full of undisguised smugness.

"Those guys from the second class next door who play guard are usually so arrogant. On the day of the game, they kept glancing at me. After the game, they surrounded me and asked me where I bought it and how much it cost. I told them it was a limited edition that was shipped directly from the United States, and those guys were so envious."

As Chen Zhuo listened, he couldn't help but chuckle softly.

"You can wear it," Chen Zhuo said.

"Alright, alright, I'm not talking to you anymore. The head of student affairs is really here. I have to run back to the classroom right away."

Zhang Qiang spoke hurriedly on the other end of the line, while the school's shrill pre-class bell could already be heard in the background.

"International calls are too expensive. Save your money and eat well, don't starve yourself over there. I'll call you after my midterms!"

"it is good."

Chen Zhuo responded.

"It's over!"

The phone went dead.

Chen Zhuo removed the receiver, glanced at it, and then slowly put it back on the landline.

The hall fell silent again.

Chen Zhuo stood there, watching the sky outside grow brighter and brighter. The sense of emptiness that had arisen from his long period of deduction was filled by Zhang Qiang's grilled sausage and basketball jersey.

It feels very reassuring.

Across from the bar, David sat up straight.

He had woken up at some point, and was now rubbing his bloodshot eyes and letting out a big yawn.

David's expensive light-colored shirt was wrinkled, and his tie hung loosely around his neck.

"Who are you calling?"

David shook his head to clear his head, his voice hoarse from staying up all night.

"Laughing so happily, you old man from Princeton?"

Chen Zhuo turned around.

"Neither."

Chen Zhuo said calmly.

"A friend in China was talking to me about basketball games, and he also complained to me about how difficult the midterm exams in the first year of high school were."

David froze for a moment, his movements halting in mid-air.

He glanced at the pile of manuscripts on Chen Zhuo's desk, then looked at Chen Zhuo himself.

David shook his head, gave a wry smile, and didn't ask any further questions.

He stood up from the sofa, walked to the bar, picked up the kettle, poured himself a glass of water, and gulped it down in one go.

After finishing his water, David turned to look at Chen Zhuo.

Chen Zhuo had already put on his coat.

"Are you getting ready to go out?" David asked.

"Um."

Chen Zhuo nodded.

"Where to? Harvard?"

David casually put the cup down.

"Has Cyril replied yet? Would you like me to drive you there?"

Chen Zhuo put his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

"No need," Chen Zhuo said.

He looked at David.

"I'm going to the Harvard Science Center. Professor Zhu's report today is quite important. I'll just take a taxi there. You guys can go back to sleep."

David listened, nodded, and didn't insist. He was too sleepy, and his eyelids were drooping.

"Okay, then take care of yourself."

David waved.

"I'm going to sleep for a while longer. I'll go over the rest of the plan with Sam and Allen when they wake up."

Chen Zhuo didn't say anything more.

He turned around and walked towards the apartment door.