My IQ has been increasing year by year.

Chapter 306 Sleeping

Chapter 307 Sleeping

The doors to Auditorium One at the Harvard Science Center were wide open.

People inside were flowing out in twos and threes along the staircase.

Although the conference had officially ended, the crowd was still filled with various discussions. Many scholars were still holding their lecture notes, pointing and arguing about the last few convergence steps on the blackboard as they walked around.

Chen Zhu mingled in the crowd and followed the flow of people out of the gate.

As soon as Chen Zhuo stepped out of the lobby of the science center and into the corridor, he saw Pierre standing next to a column.

Seeing Chen Zhuo come out, Pierre straightened up and walked towards him.

"I thought you were going to be dragged by Professor Qiu to attend their later closed-door meeting."

Pierre walked up to Chen Zhuo and made a joke with a smile.

Chen Zhuo shook his head.

"The internal office will be where they organize the details of the subsequent variational calculations. Why would I, an algebraist, go and get involved?"

Chen Zhuo's tone was casual, with a hint of languor after listening to a long report.

The two walked side by side down the corridor toward the outer plaza of the science center.

"Your truncated statement just now really scared those old guys, Taubes, who work on continuous manifolds."

Pierre took a sip of coffee, turned to look at Chen Zhuo, and spoke with a hint of teasing.

After listening, Chen Zhuo smiled gently.

"Professor Zhu has a solid foundation, just like you."

Chen Zhuo replied calmly.

"He had already tried all the possible routes in his mind for that kind of continuous dead end. I just suggested the easiest direction and went with the flow. Without the measurement parameters he laid out beforehand, my addition of the cutoff would have been meaningless."

Pierre smiled silently at Chen Zhuo's reply, which was devoid of any sense of self-praise.

He knew his disciple's personality, so he didn't continue to praise him on this topic.

The two walked down the steps outside the science center.

The cold autumn wind in Boston, carrying fallen leaves, swept in from the open space of the square.

Pierre tightened the collar of his coat slightly.

"Oh, right, there's something I need to tell you."

Pierre slowed his pace, turned around, and spoke in a slightly more serious tone, but still maintained the casual, conversational rhythm.

"Cyril called me during the break in the presentation just now."

Chen Zhuo turned his head and looked at Pierre.

He received the fifteen-page draft you sent this morning.

Pierre looked at the street ahead, his voice clear in the cold wind.

Chen Zhuo nodded slightly upon hearing these names.

Cyril asked me to tell you.

Pierre paused, turned his head, and looked into Chen Zhuo's eyes.

"They spent three hours on those fifteen pages, only checking the first three pages. Cyril said those old guys at Princeton probably won't even be in the mood for lunch today."

Pierre patted Chen Zhuo on the shoulder.

Chen Zhuo listened, but his expression remained calm.

He showed no smugness at the shock of Princeton. Last night in that little bar, when he wrote the last line of the equation, he knew the weight of those fifteen pages.

He simply put his hands in his pockets, facing the cold Boston wind, and said softly.

"The rest depends on whether the physics and computer science teams can get the building up."

Pierre laughed out loud.

"That's something your friend should worry about."

Pierre raised the glass in his hand.

"Alright, I have to go back to the Harvard math department to see what other reactions Taubes and the others might have. You should go back and get some rest. Judging by your complexion, the aftereffects of pulling an all-nighter are starting to kick in."

Chen Zhuo nodded.

"See you later."

The two parted ways at the street corner.

Chen Zhuo stood on the curb by the roadside, watching Pierre's figure disappear into the crowd.

He looked away and glanced up at the somewhat gloomy sky over Boston.

A gust of cold wind blew by, and Chen Zhuo couldn't help but shiver.

I stayed up all night in a bar last night, my mind was in a state of extreme excitement, and then I came to Harvard and listened intently to several hours of top-level differential geometry derivations.

I didn't feel anything while I was in the meeting room, but now that I'm outside, the cold wind is blowing, and the fatigue is like a rising tide, instantly engulfing my whole body.

Chen Zhuo felt a faint soreness in the back of his head, and his eyelids also became unusually heavy.

He doesn't want to think about anything right now, not even a single unnecessary algebraic line in his mind.

All he wanted was a bed to get a good night's sleep.

Chen Zhuo walked a few steps forward and came to a taxi stand by the roadside.

Before long, a yellow Ford taxi with its turn signal on slowly pulled up in front of him.

Chen Zhuo opened the back door, got in, and closed the door behind him.

"Where to, sir?"

The Black driver in front glanced at him through the rearview mirror and casually pressed the meter.

Chen Zhuo leaned back in his seat and gave the address of the luxury apartment that David had rented.

"OK."

The driver stepped on the gas, and the car smoothly merged into the traffic flow in downtown Boston.

The heating in the carriage was on full blast.

The warm air enveloped Chen Zhuo's somewhat chilly body and completely amplified his drowsiness.

A gentle, old-school jazz tune was playing on the car radio, the saxophone sounding husky and languid.

Chen Zhuo rested his head against the car window.

Outside the car window, the Boston streetscape in late autumn rushed past.

Old buildings made of red bricks, bare tree trunks along the roadside, pedestrians hurrying by in trench coats, and the hazy mist over the Charles River in the distance.

He felt his limbs become weak, and the exhaustion he felt after using his brain so intensely made it difficult for him to even lift a finger.

Chen Zhuo looked out the window at the pedestrians waiting at the traffic light and couldn't help but open his mouth and let out a long yawn.

He closed his eyes, letting the slight bumps and sway of the car rock his body.

After an unknown amount of time, the car slowly came to a stop.

"Sir, we've arrived," the driver's voice came from the front.

Chen Zhuo opened his eyes and glanced out the window with a slightly dazed look. The familiar apartment building came into view.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a few US dollar bills, handed them to the driver in front of him, didn't ask for change, and simply pushed open the car door and got out.

The cold wind blew on his face again, making Chen Zhuo a little more awake.

As soon as Chen Zhuo pushed open the door, an extremely complex smell hit him directly.

It was the strong, almost bitter taste of espresso mixed with the smell of cooled pizza.

The heating in the room was on full blast, making it feel rather hot.

The apartment was very noisy.

David was standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window near the balcony, holding a phone in his hand, pacing back and forth while speaking at a rapid pace.

"No, Richard, you didn't understand me."

David's voice was low, but his speech was as fast as a machine gun, carrying an undeniable forcefulness.

"The scope of patent protection should not be limited to just a few lines of code. What we need to register is the entire discrete boundary architecture logic at the algorithm layer... Yes, the offshore company procedures in the Cayman Islands must be completed by 5 pm today."

David was on the phone when he saw Chen Zhuo changing his shoes in the entryway.

He didn't stop his legal debate, but simply raised his chin in Chen Zhuo's direction as a greeting, then pointed towards the island counter in the restaurant, indicating that there was food there.

Chen Zhuochong nodded, changed into slippers, and walked into the living room.

The current state of the center of the living room is no better than a battlefield.

The huge whiteboard was dragged to the front of the sofa, and it was covered with all sorts of dizzying topological diagrams and physical field equations drawn in red and black markers.

In some places, the ink was erased and rewritten, then erased again, leaving behind clumps of dark ink.

Sam and Allen were completely unaware of Chen Zhuo's arrival.

Sam sat cross-legged on the carpet, placed his laptop on the coffee table, and typed furiously on the keyboard. His hair was a mess, and he bit his lower lip in frustration as he typed.

Allen knelt in front of the whiteboard, holding two different colored markers in his hands, with more than a dozen A4 sheets of paper covered with calculations scattered on the floor around him.

Chen Zhuo withdrew his gaze, not wanting to disturb them, and walked straight to the central island platform next to him.

A stack of documents was piled haphazardly on the island counter, and next to the documents were several cardboard boxes that were still warm from being packed.

There was a sliced Italian sausage pizza and several hot dogs wrapped in foil.

Chen Zhuo did not touch the food.

He walked to the water dispenser, took a cup from the shelf next to it, and filled himself a little bit with warm water.

The sound of the water dispenser pouring water seemed somewhat abrupt in the living room, which had been relatively quiet for a moment.

Sam stopped pulling his hair when he heard the sound.

He turned his head, his gaze passing over the coffee table and landing on Chen Zhuo standing next to the island counter.

Sam paused for a moment, as if just recovering from the jumble of characters and pointers.

"List?"

Sam rubbed his sore eyes hard and twisted his stiff neck, the bones cracking.

"When did you get back?"

Sam's voice sounded rough, like sandpaper, because he hadn't had water for a long time.

Chen Zhuo put down the water glass in his hand.

"Just got back."

Chen Zhuo looked at Sam, his voice gentle, but clearly weary.

Hearing Sam's voice, Allen, who was sitting on the ground, turned around and saw Chen Zhuo standing there. Allen subconsciously wanted to stand up, as if he wanted to ask him something.

But Sam spoke first.

Sam pointed to the island counter next to Chen Zhuo and then pointed to the several takeout boxes.

"David just bought it half an hour ago."

Sam yawned and pointed at the pizzas.

"There's beef, and some Hawaiian-style stuff too. It's a bit cold, but still edible. You've been listening to Harvard's presentations all day, eat some while it's hot. Allen and I can't eat anymore; we're stuck in this damn translation process."

Chen Zhuo turned his head and glanced at the pizzas and hot dogs on the table, which were emitting a greasy aroma.

Normally, he might sit down and eat a couple of pieces.

But now, looking at the food, he had no appetite and felt as heavy as if his head were filled with lead.

Chen Zhuo removed his hand from the cup.

He looked at Sam and gently shook his head.

"No need. I stayed up all night last night, and then I listened to partial differential equations for several hours just now. My mind is a bit blank right now."

Chen Zhuo reached out and rubbed his temples, letting out a long sigh.

"I'm a little sleepy, so I won't eat."

He looked at Sam and Allen.

"I'm going back to my room to get some sleep. You guys can take your time."

Sam stopped typing on the keyboard, looked at Chen Zhuo, and nodded understandingly.

"Okay, go to sleep. Allen and I will handle the code and physics here. You've already finished yours. If we can't get the rest sorted out, Allen and I might as well quit Boston."

Allen also sat on the ground, not bothering Chen Zhuo with the draft paper.

He simply waved the pen in his hand at Chen Zhuo.

"Get a good night's sleep, Chen."

Allen continued staring at the whiteboard without looking up.

"When you wake up, I guarantee that I will have already built this wall into a physical field."

Chen Zhuo looked at the two of them, a gentle smile appearing on his lips.

"Hard."

Chen Zhuo simply replied with two words.

Chen Zhuo casually pushed open a bedroom door and closed it behind him.

With a soft click of the door latch, the sounds from the living room were instantly shut out through the door.

The room became extremely quiet, with only faint breathing sounds audible.

He walked to the bedside, didn't even take off his shoes, and casually flopped onto the bed, pulling the blanket next to him over himself.