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Principal Wang stood by the window, holding a cup of now-cold tea, watching the students running on the playground.

He didn't know what the Poincaré conjecture was, but he did know it.

From today onwards, the name of Jiangcheng No.1 Middle School will forever be linked with the four words "Poincaré Conjecture".

Seventy minutes later, Lao Zhou called.

The first thing Principal Wang heard when he answered the phone was, "Old Wang, are you in your office?"

"exist."

"I've come to find you."

"You're coming over? Aren't you in the provincial capital?"

"I'm on my way. It'll only take twenty minutes by car. Print out the full text of that student's paper; I want to see it. No, don't print it out yet; I'll type it myself when I get here. I'm afraid you'll miss something."

Principal Wang was taken aback for a moment.

"So... he's right?"

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

Then Old Zhou said something that Principal Wang would never forget for the rest of his life.

"I wouldn't dare say 100%. A proof of this level would require verification by the world's top mathematicians."

"But when I looked at the core ideas he talked about in his video—Ricci flow, singularity analysis, and reduced volume—every step was correct, the logical chain was complete, and there were no obvious flaws."

"I can tell you with certainty: if his proof is wrong, then at least he is wrong in a way that surpasses that of all mathematicians in the world."

"In other words—there's a 99 percent chance he's right. The Poincaré conjecture has been proven."

Principal Wang's phone slipped from his hand, and he hurriedly caught it.

"What did you say?"

"I said—your student solved a mathematical problem that hadn't been solved for over a hundred years."

"Old Wang, your school is going to be famous. Not just famous, but famous all over the world. From now on, everyone who studies mathematics will know about your school."

Principal Wang remained silent.

He took a deep breath, his voice a little hoarse.

"Old Zhou, drive carefully on the road. Call me when you arrive, and I'll come pick you up."

"No need to answer. Just send me the link to that student's paper, I'll take a look at it in the car first."

"it is good."

After hanging up the phone, Principal Wang sent the link to the paper.

Then he leaned back in his chair, looked at the ceiling, and the corners of his mouth curled up to his ears.

He remembered Chen Mo saying on the podium, "It's just so-so," and suddenly laughed.

He thought, what if Chen Mo knew that the Poincaré conjecture had been proven?

He would probably say to the global mathematics community, "It's nothing special."

When the homeroom teacher, Mr. Fang, saw the video, he was having lunch at home.

He put down his chopsticks, put on his headphones, and watched the 47-minute video from beginning to end.

After watching it, he took off his headphones, leaned back in his chair, stared at the ceiling, and remained silent for a long time.

His wife asked him what was wrong, and he said "nothing," but his hands were shaking.

He had taught Chinese for so many years and didn't understand math, but he could understand Chen Mo's voice.

The voice was calm, resolute, and composed, without any sign of panic.

There was no trace of "I was reciting a script".

He was stating a fact as naturally as answering a question in class.

Lao Fang picked up his phone and opened the class group chat.

The group chat has exploded.

The messages were scrolling by so fast, several per second, that he simply couldn't keep up with reading them all.

But he saw all those keywords.

The Poincaré Conjecture

Chen Mo

"Really?"

"That's awesome!"

"From our class"

"I'm in the same class as him."

Someone sent a long message.

"Now I finally understand why Chen Mo only scored around 400 points on his usual tests. It's not that he can't learn; it's that he thinks the questions are too easy and doesn't want to do them. He can even prove the Poincaré conjecture, so isn't the college entrance exam math a piece of cake for him?"

Someone replied below.

"Now when I think back to the things I said to him in the group chat, I want to chop my own hand off."

Another person replied.

"Me too. I told him back then that he 'has the nerve to say 700 words,' and now I feel like I'm a clown."

Another person replied, "Don't even mention it, I'm already looking for a hole to crawl into."

Old Fang looked at the messages and suddenly smiled.

He thought that when school started, he would talk to his students in the first class.

Do you know your senior, Chen Mo?

It's not just about getting a perfect score on the college entrance exam.

He not only wrote "Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng", "Ode to the Goddess of the Luo River" and "Exhortation to Learning", but he also proved the Poincaré conjecture.

He solved a mathematical problem that had remained unsolved for over a century.

You went to the same school as him; you should be proud.

It's not because of anything he brought you.

It's because you witnessed the birth of a genius.

Su Wanci was lying in bed when she saw the video.

She watched the 47-minute video from beginning to end.

I didn't understand a single word.

But she listened to the whole thing. Because she wanted to hear his voice.

For forty-seven minutes, Chen Mo's voice remained calm, as if he were recounting a trivial matter.

After the video finished playing.

She put down her phone and buried her face in the pillow.

Her eyes were red, but the corners of her mouth were turned up.

She remembered the three words he sent yesterday.

"nailed it."

It's that simple.

Seven days, 147 pages, a problem that has lasted for over a hundred years.

Three words.

"nailed it."

She suddenly realized that there was a type of person in this world.

They speak differently from ordinary people.

Ordinary people say "it's very difficult".

They said "It's alright".

An ordinary person would say, "I'll give it a try."

They said, "Anyone with hands can do it."

An ordinary person says, "I succeeded."

They said, "It's all done."

They weren't pretending to be relaxed; they genuinely felt it wasn't difficult.

In the professors' group chat of the School of Mathematical Sciences at Peking University, messages have been flowing non-stop since morning.

Lin Zhiyuan was one of the first people to watch the video.

He opened the video as soon as it was released and spent three hours watching the 47-minute video twice.

The first time, he listened to the line of thought.

The second time, he looked at the details.

After listening to it twice, he took off his glasses, wiped the lenses with his sleeve, and put them back on.

His hands were trembling, not because he was old, but because he was excited.

He has been studying the Poincaré conjecture for over a decade.

He thought he would never live to see the day his conjecture was proven.

He thought it would be like Fermat's Last Theorem.

It was only centuries later that a solitary genius cracked it.

But today, he saw it.

It wasn't published in a top-tier mathematics journal.

It wasn't at an international mathematics conference.

It was in a Douyin video of an 18-year-old boy.

He picked up his phone and typed a message in the professors' group chat.

"I've read it, and his approach is correct. Ricci flow, singularity analysis, reduced volume—every step is correct."

"I haven't found any flaws. Of course, complete verification will take time and require the participation of several mathematicians. But I want to say that our Peking University Mathematics Department is about to welcome what may be the most outstanding student in the department's history."

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