My IQ has been increasing year by year.

Chapter 325 Both Sides

Presidential Suite, top floor of the Four Seasons Hotel, Boston.

Night had fallen, and the lights along the Charles River stretched out from the floor-to-ceiling windows, creating a dazzling sea of ​​stars.

The main light in the room was off; only a few warm yellow floor lamps emitted a dim glow.

Only two people were sitting on the expensive leather sofa in the center of the room.

One was a middle-aged white man wearing a dark blue custom-made suit, gently swirling a half-glass of Lafite red wine in his hand. He was Vincent, the chief technology officer of a long-established tech giant in Silicon Valley that occupies half of the global server market.

Sitting opposite him was a man with gold-rimmed glasses, meticulously combed hair, and a cold demeanor.

He is Robert, the chief patent attorney hired by the giant at a high salary.

The air in the suite was very quiet.

"So, in other words, our 30,000 supercomputing nodes in that underground lab in California ran for seven consecutive days, but ultimately came up empty-handed?"

Vincent took a sip of red wine, his tone perfectly calm, revealing no anger or despair.

As a figure standing at the top of the global technology pyramid, he has long been accustomed to viewing technological barriers with a rational perspective.

"Yes, Mr. Vincent."

A senior assistant beside him bowed slightly and handed over a top-secret report that was only two pages long.

"Our algorithm team tried more than 140,000 compilation routes to try to bypass the underlying architecture in that preprint, but every time, as soon as the data flow entered the high-dimensional physical embedding stage, without the mathematical truncation operator called constant C to force dimensionality reduction, the system's memory overflow rate would reach 100% within 0.1 seconds, and finally deadlock and crash."

The assistant paused, a hint of professional helplessness in his voice.

"Within the current mathematical framework, the constant C of that Chinese boy is the only and absolute solution between physical continuity and computer discrete logic."

Vincent took the report, glanced at it casually, and then tossed it onto the marble coffee table in front of him.

"Very well, since we can't avoid it technically, let's not waste time on the engineering aspects."

Vincent leaned back on the sofa, turned his head, and looked at Robert, the chief lawyer sitting opposite him.

A cold and shrewd smile curled at the corners of his mouth.

"Robert, is there any progress on what I asked you to prepare?"

Robert adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, elegantly placed his briefcase on his lap, and took out a thick legal document.

"Of course, Mr. Vincent."

Robert's voice was like a cold scalpel, precise and sharp.

"In the past week, I not only studied those three papers carefully, but I also delved into the patent law precedents of the U.S. Supreme Court on software architecture and underlying logic."

Robert spread out the document, his long, slender fingers pointing to a line of bold legal text.

"US patent law is extremely protective of innovation, but there is an absolute red line: natural laws, abstract concepts, and rules of thumb that have not been rigorously mathematically proven cannot obtain absolute patent protection."

Robert looked up, a cold glint flashing behind his glasses.

"I've read those three papers. Sam and Allen's engineering code and physical integration are perfect. It's an application method that can be patented. However, the only cornerstone that makes their whole architecture work is Chen Zhuo's paper 'Algebraic Foundation,' and that abruptly appearing constant C."

"But Chen Zhuo made a fatal mistake."

Robert's tone became extremely dangerous.

"He did not provide a rigorous process for deriving this constant C from the calculus equation. Legally speaking, without this proof, the constant C is not a mathematical truth, but merely a clever guess based on engineering experience."

Upon hearing this, Vincent's eyes shone even brighter.

He paused slightly in swirling the wine in his glass, signaling Robert to continue.

"Therefore, the goal of the seminar in a few days is not to technically prove them wrong at all."

Robert flashed a smile befitting a top Wall Street lawyer.

"What we need to do is, under the watchful eyes of three hundred of the world's top minds, force that fourteen-year-old Chinese boy to admit that he cannot write out the intermediate proof process, and force him to admit that this step is just an engineering trick rather than a rigorous mathematical theorem."

"As long as he admits it, or he can't derive it on the blackboard."

Robert crossed his arms and delivered the final blow.

"Our legal team, which is already prepared in the audience, will immediately file an opposition application with the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, arguing that rules of experience are not absolutely protected, and completely tear down the patent barriers of this framework. At that time, this framework will become ownerless public knowledge."

Mr. Vincent, you can then lead your team to openly and freely disassemble it, reassemble it, and turn it into our own product.

Pop, pop, pop.

Vincent's slow, rhythmic clapping echoed through the suite.

"A perfectly calculated scheme."

Vincent picked up his glass and downed the crimson liquid in one gulp.

"But Robert, I don't understand pure mathematics, and neither do you. At the seminar, who will force him to admit that this is a form of opportunism? Who will expose his trick on the blackboard?"

"We don't need to understand math ourselves."

Robert smiled and looked out the floor-to-ceiling window, in the direction where Harvard University and MIT are located.

"Mr. Vincent, don't forget, half of those three hundred seats are occupied by North America's top pure mathematicians and physicists."

"Those old pedants who stay in the ivory tower have an almost perverted academic obsession. They value the rigor of mathematics more than their own lives. Chen Zhuo's rogue-like one-size-fits-all approach may be a miracle in engineering, but in the eyes of those old monsters, it is simply a heretical desecration of the sacred discipline of mathematics."

Robert straightened the hem of his suit jacket, his tone exuding an arrogant, manipulative air.

"Tomorrow, we just need to sit comfortably in the audience, and those angry academic lunatics will naturally act as our sharpest knives. They will mercilessly tear this C. Zhuo to shreds on the blackboard."

"As long as the academic community doesn't recognize him, we can take everything without firing a shot."

......

at the same time.

Less than three kilometers from the Four Seasons Hotel, inside a professors' club at Harvard University with a distinctly classical atmosphere.

There's no red wine or intrigue here; the air is filled with the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans, and a faint scent of tobacco, a blend of cigars and pipes.

Oil paintings of mathematical pioneers such as Gauss, Riemann, and Poincaré hang on the walls.

In the warm glow of the fireplace, several elderly professors with gray hair, dressed in well-tailored tweed suits, sat around two Chesterfield leather sofas side by side.

If anyone could recognize the identities of these old men, they would be so shocked that they wouldn't be able to utter a word.

Among them are a tenured professor at the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton, the recently retired editor-in-chief of the Annals of Mathematics, and two contemporary legends who have stood on the Fields Medal podium.

They don't care how much Microsoft's stock price will fall, nor do they care how big the future server market will be.

They believed in only one thing throughout their lives: the beauty and rigor of truth.

"This is a complete disaster!"

Professor Richard, a top scholar in topology known for his fiery temper and extremely rigorous scholarship, was sitting on the sofa on the left, angrily slamming the preprint paper authored by C. Zhuo onto the round table in front of him.

"Look at this! Look at what he's doing here!"

Richard pointed at the circled constant C in the paper, his beard trembling with anger.

"Mathematics is an art of continuity and logic! Even when faced with the physical collapse of eleven dimensions, there must be a hidden and magnificent bridge of calculus to bridge the gap! But what about him? He's like a butcher who stormed into the Louvre with a chainsaw and, targeting the most difficult part of the David statue, simply chopped it off with the chainsaw!"

Richard became more and more agitated as he spoke; he even stood up and paced back and forth in front of the fireplace.

"I admit that those guys in the engineering department managed to run the closed loop using this truncation operator, but so what? Without rigorous mathematical derivation, this kind of forced dimensionality reduction is just academic opportunism! If we allow this toxic cynicism to spread in the field of pure mathematics, will we still need to do proofs in the future? Will everyone just throw out a constant to get by when they encounter something they can't calculate?!"

Richard's words elicited slight nods from several of the senior professors present.

For mathematical fundamentalists like them, a conclusion lacking a derivation process is more unbearable than a wrong conclusion.

However, amidst the chorus of condemnation, an old man sitting in the corner let out a few gentle chuckles.

Professor Arthur.

A leading figure in algebraic geometry, and also a longtime friend of Pierre Deligne, Chen Zhuo's mentor.

"Richard, my old friend, you are always so easily agitated."

Professor Arthur slowly took a puff of smoke from his pipe, exhaled a cloud of smoke, and looked through his glasses at the paper.

"You only saw how brutal his cut was, but didn't you see how precise and amazing it was?"

Professor Arthur tapped the position of the constant C with his pipe, his eyes revealing an undisguised admiration and amazement.

"Tens of thousands of redundant variables would be enough to crash the world's most powerful supercomputer, but he was able to cut off all the possible erroneous physical paths and directly lock onto the one and only truth threshold by relying on an extremely terrifying mathematical intuition amidst countless forks in the road."

Arthur looked at Richard, a hint of a smile in his voice.

"You think this is just a matter of luck and opportunism? No, Richard, to make that perfect cut, he must have already constructed a completely new and incredibly complex manifold logic in his mind that we cannot yet comprehend."

"It's not that he doesn't know how to prove it, he's just... too arrogant."

Professor Arthur leaned back on the sofa and gave his assessment with a smile.

"This kind of arrogance is a privilege reserved for a very small number of top geniuses. They see the answer right there, so they don't bother to show us, the mortals who are still struggling to climb halfway up the mountain, the footprints they left on their way down."

"Absurd! The mathematics community cannot tolerate such unreasonable arrogance!"

Professor Richard was enraged by Arthur's remarks. He slammed his cane down hard, his voice echoing in the quiet club.

"No matter how talented he is, and no matter how much that old man Pierre protects him! In a few days, in that academic court with three hundred people, I will absolutely not allow him to get away with this flawed logic!"

Richard's eyes turned extremely cold and resolute.

"During tomorrow's defense, I'll raise my hand and interrupt him when he writes down that damn constant C."

Richard scanned the professors present and announced his plan, word by word.

"I'll make him, in front of the whole world, step by step, complete the calculus derivation from continuous space to discrete matrices on the blackboard!"

"If he can't complete it, if this really is an engineering scam..."

Richard snorted coldly.

"Then I will personally strip away his cloak of genius and oust him from the podium! I will never sign any of his peer review papers!"

Professor Arthur did not refute Richard's resolute statement.

He simply tapped the ash from his pipe and looked out the window at the deep night.

"Then I'll wait and see."

Professor Arthur murmured softly.

"I'd also like to see just how you old fogies will devour this fourteen-year-old Chinese boy alive on that stage..."

"He will still use his blackboard to teach the entire North American academic community a lesson."