A perfect score on the college entrance exam? The Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng has astonis

Su Wanci looked at the banner and couldn't help but chuckle.

"You're now the school's living advertisement."

Chen Mo glanced at the banner and said expressionlessly, "What a waste of fabric."

Su Wanci rolled her eyes at him, and the two of them walked into the school gate together.

Principal Wang's office was full of people.

People were sitting on the sofa and chairs.

At first glance, all the faces were either gray or completely white, and the youngest looked to be over fifty.

They wore dark jackets or shirts and carried teacups or notebooks.

The expression on their faces was the same—expectation.

This is not the expectation of ordinary people, but the expectation of mathematicians.

There was no fervor or excitement in that anticipation, only a calm as if waiting for something that had been waiting for a long time to finally appear.

Principal Wang stood behind his desk.

His smile was as bright as the sunshine outside the window, but there was a fine layer of sweat on his forehead.

With so many big shots crammed into his office, even with the air conditioning on full blast, it's not enough.

The door opened.

Chen Mo walked in, with Su Wanci following behind him. The appearance of the two of them instantly silenced the entire office.

All eyes turned to the doorway and landed on Chen Mo.

Those gazes held curiosity, scrutiny, expectation, appreciation, and something else that was hard to describe.

The awe an old craftsman feels when he sees a perfect piece of work.

Principal Wang quickly stepped forward, grasped Chen Mo's hand, and shook it vigorously twice.

"Chen Mo, you're here! Come, come, let me introduce you—"

He hadn't finished speaking.

The old man in the middle of the sofa had already stood up.

He was over seventy years old, with completely white hair, wearing a dark gray Zhongshan suit, and his face was etched with deep wrinkles.

He walked up to Chen Mo, extended his hands, and grasped Chen Mo's hands.

It wasn't one hand, it was both hands, like an elder holding the hand of a younger person.

But that gesture looks more like a believer grasping the feet of a deity.

"Chen Mo,"

The old man's voice was hoarse but clear.

"I am the president of the Chinese Mathematical Science Association. My name is Zhou Weihan."

"I read your proof of the Poincaré conjecture word for word over three days."

"In my more than fifty years of studying mathematics, I have never seen a proof like this—concise, clear, complete, with every step just right. You did more than just prove a conjecture; you taught mathematicians around the world what a 'perfect proof' truly means."

His voice trembled slightly at the last few words, and his eyes reddened slightly.

The office was so quiet you could hear the air conditioner humming.

Chen Mo looked at him and nodded.

"Hello, Chairman Zhou."

Zhou Weihan released his grip, took a step back, looked Chen Mo up and down, and then smiled.

There was a sense of relief in that smile.

"Chen Mo, we are here today to invite you to join the Chinese Mathematical Science Association."

A few low murmurs of agreement rang out in the office.

Chen Mo did not speak.

Zhou Weihan continued, his voice becoming more solemn.

"You're not just an ordinary member. After discussion, our association's board of directors unanimously agreed that if you're willing to join, we will directly appoint you as the association's vice president."

Principal Wang opened his mouth.

Having served as a principal for so many years and seen all sorts of situations, the words "Vice President of the Mathematical Science Association" still stunned him.

The vice president of this association.

Each cohort has been comprised of highly respected senior scholars in the Chinese mathematics community, with the youngest among them being nearly sixty years old when elected.

just now.

They want to give this position to an eighteen-year-old boy.

Su Wanci stood behind Chen Mo.

Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like someone was drumming in her chest.

Of course she knew what the Mathematical Sciences Association was.

That is the highest academic organization in the national mathematics community. Every person who can join this association is a top scholar in the field of mathematics.

Vice President?

She thought she had misheard, but she hadn't.

The elderly people with gray hair in the office were all looking at Chen Mo, waiting for his answer.

Chen Mo was silent for two seconds. Then he shook his head.

"Thank you, Chairman Zhou, and thank you to all the seniors, but I will not be joining."

The air in the office felt like it had been sucked out.

Everyone's expression froze at the same moment.

The air in the office felt like it had been sucked out.

Zhou Weihan's smile froze on his face.

It wasn't because he was embarrassed, but because he thought he had misheard.

He served as president of the Mathematical Sciences Association for twenty years.

I have met countless young mathematical geniuses.

I've heard countless polite phrases like "I'll think about it some more."

But I've never heard anyone say, "I'm not joining."

Especially after he uttered the words "vice president".

He opened his mouth, as if to confirm that he hadn't misheard.

But no sound came out.

The man next to him, seventy years old, a leading figure in the field of differential geometry, had his teacup suspended in mid-air, forgotten to put it down.

The tea in the cup swayed slightly, leaving rings of water marks on the cup's surface.

He stared at Chen Mo as if he were looking at an unsolvable equation.

He stared at Chen Mo as if he were looking at an unsolvable equation.

Zhao Mingcheng, 65 years old, sat by the window.

Topologist, Vice President of the International Mathematical Union.

He was sitting with his legs crossed when he heard "I can't join."

He unconsciously put his legs down, leaned forward, placed his hands on his knees, opened his mouth slightly, and didn't push his glasses up to the tip of his nose.

He stared at Chen Mo for three seconds.

Then he turned to look at Zhou Weihan.

His eyes were filled with the question, "What did this child say?"

Principal Wang's mouth was agape, unable to close.

He thought he had misheard, but he knew he hadn't.

Chen Mo explained it very clearly.

"I won't join."

It's not "I'll think about it some more".

It's not "I need time".

It's not, "This decision is very important, I need to discuss it with my family."

It means "I won't join."

Clean and efficient, leaving no room for maneuver.

Principal Wang has been a principal for so many years and has seen all kinds of students reject all kinds of opportunities.

But he refused the position of vice president of the Mathematical Sciences Association?

He felt like he was dreaming.

Su Wanci stood behind Chen Mo.

Her breath caught for a moment.

She looked at Chen Mo's profile; she had seen that expression too many times.

He wasn't hesitating, he wasn't being polite, and he wasn't saying "I'll think about it some more."

He really refused.

Vice President of the Chinese Mathematical Sciences Association, one of the highest honors in the national mathematics community.

He was rejected by an eighteen-year-old boy with just four words: "I'm not joining."

Zhou Weihan was the first to come to his senses.

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

"Chen Mo, may I ask why? If you're worried about time conflicts, I can tell you that the position of vice president is more of an honorary one, and you won't need to take on any specific administrative work."

"If you're worried about qualifications, I can tell you that the association's council's decision is based on your academic contributions, not age. If you're concerned—"

"President Zhou,"

Chen Mo interrupted him.

The tone was flat.

"I'm not worried about anything, I just have other things to do."

"Others?" Zhou Weihan was taken aback.

"Something more important than mathematics?"

Chen Mo looked at him and remained silent for a second.

Zhao Mingcheng, 65 years old, sat by the window.

Topologist, Vice President of the International Mathematical Union.

He was sitting with his legs crossed when he heard "I can't join."

He unconsciously put his legs down, leaned forward, placed his hands on his knees, opened his mouth slightly, and didn't push his glasses up to the tip of his nose.

He stared at Chen Mo for three seconds.

Then he turned to look at Zhou Weihan.

His eyes were filled with the question, "What did this child say?"

Principal Wang's mouth was agape, unable to close.

He thought he had misheard, but he knew he hadn't.

Chen Mo explained it very clearly.

"I won't join."

It's not "I'll think about it some more".

It's not "I need time".

It's not, "This decision is very important, I need to discuss it with my family."

It means "I won't join."

Clean and efficient, leaving no room for maneuver.

Principal Wang has been a principal for so many years and has seen all kinds of students reject all kinds of opportunities.

But he refused the position of vice president of the Mathematical Sciences Association?

He felt like he was dreaming.

Su Wanci stood behind Chen Mo.

Her breath caught for a moment.

She looked at Chen Mo's profile; she had seen that expression too many times.

He wasn't hesitating, he wasn't being polite, and he wasn't saying "I'll think about it some more."

He really refused.

Vice President of the Chinese Mathematical Sciences Association, one of the highest honors in the national mathematics community.

He was rejected by an eighteen-year-old boy with just four words: "I'm not joining."

Zhou Weihan was the first to come to his senses.

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

"Chen Mo, may I ask why? If you're worried about time conflicts, I can tell you that the position of vice president is more of an honorary one, and you won't need to take on any specific administrative work."

"If you're worried about qualifications, I can tell you that the association's council's decision is based on your academic contributions, not age. If you're concerned—"

"President Zhou,"

Chen Mo interrupted him.

The tone was flat.

"I'm not worried about anything, I just have other things to do."

"Others?" Zhou Weihan was taken aback.

"Something more important than mathematics?"

Chen Mo looked at him and remained silent for a second.

Zhao Mingcheng, 65 years old, sat by the window.

Topologist, Vice President of the International Mathematical Union.

He was sitting with his legs crossed when he heard "I can't join."

He unconsciously put his legs down, leaned forward, placed his hands on his knees, opened his mouth slightly, and didn't push his glasses up to the tip of his nose.

He stared at Chen Mo for three seconds.

Then he turned to look at Zhou Weihan.

His eyes were filled with the question, "What did this child say?"

Principal Wang's mouth was agape, unable to close.

He thought he had misheard, but he knew he hadn't.

Chen Mo explained it very clearly.

"I won't join."

It's not "I'll think about it some more".

It's not "I need time".

It's not, "This decision is very important, I need to discuss it with my family."

It means "I won't join."

Clean and efficient, leaving no room for maneuver.

Principal Wang has been a principal for so many years and has seen all kinds of students reject all kinds of opportunities.

But he refused the position of vice president of the Mathematical Sciences Association?

He felt like he was dreaming.

Su Wanci stood behind Chen Mo.

Her breath caught for a moment.

She looked at Chen Mo's profile; she had seen that expression too many times.

He wasn't hesitating, he wasn't being polite, and he wasn't saying "I'll think about it some more."

He really refused.

Vice President of the Chinese Mathematical Sciences Association, one of the highest honors in the national mathematics community.

He was rejected by an eighteen-year-old boy with just four words: "I'm not joining."

Zhou Weihan was the first to come to his senses.

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

"Chen Mo, may I ask why? If you're worried about time conflicts, I can tell you that the position of vice president is more of an honorary one, and you won't need to take on any specific administrative work."

"If you're worried about qualifications, I can tell you that the association's council's decision is based on your academic contributions, not age. If you're concerned—"

"President Zhou,"

Chen Mo interrupted him.

The tone was flat.

"I'm not worried about anything, I just have other things to do."

"Others?" Zhou Weihan was taken aback.

"Something more important than mathematics?"

Chen Mo looked at him and remained silent for a second.

Zhao Mingcheng, 65 years old, sat by the window.

Topologist, Vice President of the International Mathematical Union.

He was sitting with his legs crossed when he heard "I can't join."

He unconsciously put his legs down, leaned forward, placed his hands on his knees, opened his mouth slightly, and didn't push his glasses up to the tip of his nose.

He stared at Chen Mo for three seconds.

Then he turned to look at Zhou Weihan.

His eyes were filled with the question, "What did this child say?"

Principal Wang's mouth was agape, unable to close.

He thought he had misheard, but he knew he hadn't.

Chen Mo explained it very clearly.

"I won't join."

It's not "I'll think about it some more".

It's not "I need time".

It's not, "This decision is very important, I need to discuss it with my family."

It means "I won't join."

Clean and efficient, leaving no room for maneuver.

Principal Wang has been a principal for so many years and has seen all kinds of students reject all kinds of opportunities.

But he refused the position of vice president of the Mathematical Sciences Association?

He felt like he was dreaming.

Su Wanci stood behind Chen Mo.

Her breath caught for a moment.

She looked at Chen Mo's profile; she had seen that expression too many times.

He wasn't hesitating, he wasn't being polite, and he wasn't saying "I'll think about it some more."

He really refused.

Vice President of the Chinese Mathematical Sciences Association, one of the highest honors in the national mathematics community.

He was rejected by an eighteen-year-old boy with just four words: "I'm not joining."

Zhou Weihan was the first to come to his senses.

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

"Chen Mo, may I ask why? If you're worried about time conflicts, I can tell you that the position of vice president is more of an honorary one, and you won't need to take on any specific administrative work."

"If you're worried about qualifications, I can tell you that the association's council's decision is based on your academic contributions, not age. If you're concerned—"

"President Zhou,"

Chen Mo interrupted him.

The tone was flat.

"I'm not worried about anything, I just have other things to do."

"Others?" Zhou Weihan was taken aback.

"Something more important than mathematics?"

Chen Mo looked at him and remained silent for a second.

Announcement: Update coming soon, please stay tuned!

Zhao Mingcheng, 65 years old, sat by the window.

Topologist, Vice President of the International Mathematical Union.

He was sitting with his legs crossed when he heard "I can't join."

He unconsciously put his legs down, leaned forward, placed his hands on his knees, opened his mouth slightly, and didn't push his glasses up to the tip of his nose.

He stared at Chen Mo for three seconds.

Then he turned to look at Zhou Weihan.

His eyes were filled with the question, "What did this child say?"

Principal Wang's mouth was agape, unable to close.

He thought he had misheard, but he knew he hadn't.

Chen Mo explained it very clearly.

"I won't join."

It's not "I'll think about it some more".

It's not "I need time".

It's not, "This decision is very important, I need to discuss it with my family."

It means "I won't join."

Clean and efficient, leaving no room for maneuver.

Principal Wang has been a principal for so many years and has seen all kinds of students reject all kinds of opportunities.

But he refused the position of vice president of the Mathematical Sciences Association?

He felt like he was dreaming.

Su Wanci stood behind Chen Mo.

Her breath caught for a moment.

She looked at Chen Mo's profile; she had seen that expression too many times.

He wasn't hesitating, he wasn't being polite, and he wasn't saying "I'll think about it some more."

He really refused.

Vice President of the Chinese Mathematical Sciences Association, one of the highest honors in the national mathematics community.

He was rejected by an eighteen-year-old boy with just four words: "I'm not joining."

Zhou Weihan was the first to come to his senses.

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

"Chen Mo, may I ask why? If you're worried about time conflicts, I can tell you that the position of vice president is more of an honorary one, and you won't need to take on any specific administrative work."

"If you're worried about qualifications, I can tell you that the association's council's decision is based on your academic contributions, not age. If you're concerned—"

"President Zhou,"

Chen Mo interrupted him.

The tone was flat.

"I'm not worried about anything, I just have other things to do."

"Others?" Zhou Weihan was taken aback.

"Something more important than mathematics?"

Chen Mo looked at him and remained silent for a second.

Zhao Mingcheng, 65 years old, sat by the window.

Topologist, Vice President of the International Mathematical Union.

He was sitting with his legs crossed when he heard "I can't join."

He unconsciously put his legs down, leaned forward, placed his hands on his knees, opened his mouth slightly, and didn't push his glasses up to the tip of his nose.

He stared at Chen Mo for three seconds.

Then he turned to look at Zhou Weihan.

His eyes were filled with the question, "What did this child say?"

Principal Wang's mouth was agape, unable to close.

He thought he had misheard, but he knew he hadn't.

Chen Mo explained it very clearly.

"I won't join."

It's not "I'll think about it some more".

It's not "I need time".

It's not, "This decision is very important, I need to discuss it with my family."

It means "I won't join."

Clean and efficient, leaving no room for maneuver.

Principal Wang has been a principal for so many years and has seen all kinds of students reject all kinds of opportunities.

But he refused the position of vice president of the Mathematical Sciences Association?

He felt like he was dreaming.

Su Wanci stood behind Chen Mo.

Her breath caught for a moment.

She looked at Chen Mo's profile; she had seen that expression too many times.

He wasn't hesitating, he wasn't being polite, and he wasn't saying "I'll think about it some more."

He really refused.

Vice President of the Chinese Mathematical Sciences Association, one of the highest honors in the national mathematics community.

He was rejected by an eighteen-year-old boy with just four words: "I'm not joining."

Zhou Weihan was the first to come to his senses.

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

"Chen Mo, may I ask why? If you're worried about time conflicts, I can tell you that the position of vice president is more of an honorary one, and you won't need to take on any specific administrative work."

"If you're worried about qualifications, I can tell you that the association's council's decision is based on your academic contributions, not age. If you're concerned—"

"President Zhou,"

Chen Mo interrupted him.

The tone was flat.

"I'm not worried about anything, I just have other things to do."

"Others?" Zhou Weihan was taken aback.

"Something more important than mathematics?"

Chen Mo looked at him and remained silent for a second.

Zhao Mingcheng, 65 years old, sat by the window.

Topologist, Vice President of the International Mathematical Union.

He was sitting with his legs crossed when he heard "I can't join."

He unconsciously put his legs down, leaned forward, placed his hands on his knees, opened his mouth slightly, and didn't push his glasses up to the tip of his nose.

He stared at Chen Mo for three seconds.

Then he turned to look at Zhou Weihan.

His eyes were filled with the question, "What did this child say?"

Principal Wang's mouth was agape, unable to close.

He thought he had misheard, but he knew he hadn't.

Chen Mo explained it very clearly.

"I won't join."

It's not "I'll think about it some more".

It's not "I need time".

It's not, "This decision is very important, I need to discuss it with my family."

It means "I won't join."

Clean and efficient, leaving no room for maneuver.

Principal Wang has been a principal for so many years and has seen all kinds of students reject all kinds of opportunities.

But he refused the position of vice president of the Mathematical Sciences Association?

He felt like he was dreaming.

Su Wanci stood behind Chen Mo.

Her breath caught for a moment.

She looked at Chen Mo's profile; she had seen that expression too many times.

He wasn't hesitating, he wasn't being polite, and he wasn't saying "I'll think about it some more."

He really refused.

Vice President of the Chinese Mathematical Sciences Association, one of the highest honors in the national mathematics community.

He was rejected by an eighteen-year-old boy with just four words: "I'm not joining."

Zhou Weihan was the first to come to his senses.

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

"Chen Mo, may I ask why? If you're worried about time conflicts, I can tell you that the position of vice president is more of an honorary one, and you won't need to take on any specific administrative work."

"If you're worried about qualifications, I can tell you that the association's council's decision is based on your academic contributions, not age. If you're concerned—"

"President Zhou,"

Chen Mo interrupted him.

The tone was flat.

"I'm not worried about anything, I just have other things to do."

"Others?" Zhou Weihan was taken aback.

"Something more important than mathematics?"

Chen Mo looked at him and remained silent for a second.

He stared at Chen Mo as if he were looking at an unsolvable equation.

Zhao Mingcheng, 65 years old, sat by the window.

Topologist, Vice President of the International Mathematical Union.

He was sitting with his legs crossed when he heard "I can't join."

He unconsciously put his legs down, leaned forward, placed his hands on his knees, opened his mouth slightly, and didn't push his glasses up to the tip of his nose.

He stared at Chen Mo for three seconds.

Then he turned to look at Zhou Weihan.

His eyes were filled with the question, "What did this child say?"

Principal Wang's mouth was agape, unable to close.

He thought he had misheard, but he knew he hadn't.

Chen Mo explained it very clearly.

"I won't join."

It's not "I'll think about it some more".

It's not "I need time".

It's not, "This decision is very important, I need to discuss it with my family."

It means "I won't join."

Clean and efficient, leaving no room for maneuver.

Principal Wang has been a principal for so many years and has seen all kinds of students reject all kinds of opportunities.

But he refused the position of vice president of the Mathematical Sciences Association?

He felt like he was dreaming.

Su Wanci stood behind Chen Mo.

Her breath caught for a moment.

She looked at Chen Mo's profile; she had seen that expression too many times.

He wasn't hesitating, he wasn't being polite, and he wasn't saying "I'll think about it some more."

He really refused.

Vice President of the Chinese Mathematical Sciences Association, one of the highest honors in the national mathematics community.

He was rejected by an eighteen-year-old boy with just four words: "I'm not joining."

Zhou Weihan was the first to come to his senses.

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

"Chen Mo, may I ask why? If you're worried about time conflicts, I can tell you that the position of vice president is more of an honorary one, and you won't need to take on any specific administrative work."

"If you're worried about qualifications, I can tell you that the association's council's decision is based on your academic contributions, not age. If you're concerned—"

"President Zhou,"

Chen Mo interrupted him.

The tone was flat.

"I'm not worried about anything, I just have other things to do."

"Others?" Zhou Weihan was taken aback.

"Something more important than mathematics?"

Chen Mo looked at him and remained silent for a second.

Zhao Mingcheng, 65 years old, sat by the window.

Topologist, Vice President of the International Mathematical Union.

He was sitting with his legs crossed when he heard "I can't join."

He unconsciously put his legs down, leaned forward, placed his hands on his knees, opened his mouth slightly, and didn't push his glasses up to the tip of his nose.

He stared at Chen Mo for three seconds.

Then he turned to look at Zhou Weihan.

His eyes were filled with the question, "What did this child say?"

Principal Wang's mouth was agape, unable to close.

He thought he had misheard, but he knew he hadn't.

Chen Mo explained it very clearly.

"I won't join."

It's not "I'll think about it some more".

It's not "I need time".

It's not, "This decision is very important, I need to discuss it with my family."

It means "I won't join."

Clean and efficient, leaving no room for maneuver.

Principal Wang has been a principal for so many years and has seen all kinds of students reject all kinds of opportunities.

But he refused the position of vice president of the Mathematical Sciences Association?

He felt like he was dreaming.

Su Wanci stood behind Chen Mo.

Her breath caught for a moment.

She looked at Chen Mo's profile; she had seen that expression too many times.

He wasn't hesitating, he wasn't being polite, and he wasn't saying "I'll think about it some more."

He really refused.

Vice President of the Chinese Mathematical Sciences Association, one of the highest honors in the national mathematics community.

He was rejected by an eighteen-year-old boy with just four words: "I'm not joining."

Zhou Weihan was the first to come to his senses.

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

"Chen Mo, may I ask why? If you're worried about time conflicts, I can tell you that the position of vice president is more of an honorary one, and you won't need to take on any specific administrative work."

"If you're worried about qualifications, I can tell you that the association's council's decision is based on your academic contributions, not age. If you're concerned—"

"President Zhou,"

Chen Mo interrupted him.

The tone was flat.

"I'm not worried about anything, I just have other things to do."

"Others?" Zhou Weihan was taken aback.

"Something more important than mathematics?"

Chen Mo looked at him and remained silent for a second.