Technology invades the modern world

Chapter 237 The Edge of the Empire
At the Moscow Institute of Mathematics in 1966.

"What did the professor say?" Andrei Kolmogorov asked.

As the most famous mathematician of our time, without exception, members of the International Committee of Mathematicians in Moscow have all met Lin Ran.

But the scene when Andrei Kolmogorov met Lin Ran was different.

He met Korolev in Geneva, while the others met at the International Congress of Mathematicians in 1962.

Andrei also remembered Lin Ran, who at the time was only a famous mathematician, giving him lectures and demonstrating his superb skills in cybernetics, calculus, and harmonic analysis.

He knew very well at the time that it was the work of a master.

Unexpectedly, the opponent possessed masterful skills even in their weakest area, and was considered the undisputed number the best in the world.

Committee Chairman Vinogradov sat at the head of the table, flipping through the list of invitees, his brow furrowed.

He held the unopened fountain pen in his hand and tapped the cap lightly on the table.

Vinogradov sighed, "Andrei, the professor hasn't replied."

I think it will be really difficult to invite a professor this time.

Comrade Pontryagin makes a good point. Even Comrade Korolev only dared to go to London, and only Yuri Gagarin went to New York for an interview.

Getting the White House to send a professor to Moscow is indeed a difficult task.

Even Nikita addressed Lin Ran as "Professor," which is perfectly normal for mathematicians.

Andrei remarked, "The professor's contribution was outstanding. I always felt it was a real pity that the Moscow Congress was not held in his place."

Vinogradov said, "That's politics. Politics is everywhere, and mathematics is no exception."

In August 1966, the auditorium of Moscow State University was brightly lit.

Moscow attaches great importance to every major international event, including those in mathematics.

The only regret this year was that Lin Ran did not attend, even though Nikita communicated with Lyndon Johnson personally through the "hotline" and made a promise to ensure the professor's safe return to Washington.

But the professor himself refused to attend.

He announced through the New York Times that he was too busy to attend and offered his congratulations in advance on the holding of the conference.

This report, signed by Jenny, is seen by some as Lin Ran's official response.

This also makes this year's International Congress of Mathematicians less suspenseful.

After all, if Lin Ran participated, he would definitely get a one-hour report opportunity, and everyone was looking forward to seeing what the latest developments of Lin Ran would be.

Although Lin Ran is also the head of NASA, logically speaking, with his busy schedule, it would be impossible for him to have any new achievements in half a year.

But after all, he was a professor, and all the mathematicians present believed that if he was a professor, then nothing was impossible.

Unfortunately, there is no such suspense this year.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the soaring ceiling of the auditorium, casting a soft light that illuminated the classical patterns carved on the walls.

At the center of the stage, a huge banner read "ICM 1966," flanked by national flags, symbolizing the unifying power of mathematics as a universal language.

However, the professor's absence served as a reminder to everyone present that we were still in the Cold War era, a sentiment particularly acute for the mathematicians from Baiyue, even though there were only two of them.

The Fields Medal award ceremony was the highlight of the event, attracting all attention.

Chen Jingrun sat in the audience; he had already learned the news in advance that he was very likely to win this year's Fields Medal.

He felt deeply honored, but at the same time, he felt melancholy, as he could not accept the award as a Chinese mathematician, nor could he accept it under his real name, Chen Jingrun.

This is truly a great pity.

When Professor Siegel, over seventy years old and with neatly trimmed silver hair, stepped onto the podium, Chen Jingrun knew he was a shoo-in for the award.

After all, Lin Ran's absence and Siegel's presence carries strong symbolic significance.

Siegel, dressed in a dark suit, walked steadily onto the podium. The noise in the auditorium gradually subsided, and the mathematicians watched the highly respected old man, anticipating his speech.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Siegel began in English with a slight German accent, his voice loud and clear, "I am honored to represent my student Randolph today, who is unable to attend due to his busy schedule at NASA."

Randolph asked me to convey his deepest respect and congratulations to this year's Fields Medal winners.

Siegel emphasized to the students, "I'm a professor's professor."

"The first recipient of the award is Professor Dehui Chen, whose solution to Goldbach's Conjecture is a revolutionary achievement."

For more than two centuries, mathematicians have racked their brains over this conjecture: can every even number greater than 2 be expressed as the sum of two prime numbers? Professor Chen, with his extraordinary insight and mathematical talent, has taken this problem a giant leap forward.

Randolph commented that Professor Chen's proof combined the essence of sieve methods and analytic number theory, demonstrating amazing skill and profound insight. His work provided a way to thoroughly solve the strong form of Goldbach's conjecture, opened up new research directions in additive number theory, and provided valuable tools for future mathematicians.

Randolph emphasized that Professor Chen's achievements demonstrate the power of mathematics as a universal language. Regardless of national boundaries, mathematics unites us in the common pursuit of truth.

After Siegel finished speaking, the mathematicians assumed he was referring to Moscow and Washington, but Chen Jingrun, sitting in the front row with his head slightly bowed and hands clasped tightly, knew that he was probably referring to China.

Lin Ran's past work has left behind the seeds of science for China, allowing science to transcend the barriers of politics.

Siegel finished his speech, smiled, and turned to the audience: "Please invite Professor Chen to come up on stage to accept the award."

Amid thunderous applause, Chen Jingrun stood up and walked onto the stage with slightly nervous steps.

His heart was racing, but he wore a calm smile.

After shaking hands with him, Siegel handed him a gold Fields Medal engraved with Archimedes' portrait.

“Congratulations, Professor Chen,” Siegel said sincerely. “Your achievements have inspired us all. Randolph extends his heartfelt congratulations to you.”

Chen Jingrun accepted the medal, his voice trembling slightly: "Thank you, Professor Siegel. Please also convey my gratitude to the professor. This honor means a great deal to me."

Chen Jingrun held up the medal, his gaze sweeping across the auditorium, feeling the recognition from the global mathematics community.

Memories flooded his mind, but what he found most unforgettable was Lin Ran's words in the corridor of the lecture hall at Hong Kong University: "These are actually all related to the optimization of intercontinental ballistic missiles."

Standing in the Great Auditorium of Moscow and looking back, Chen Jingrun knew very well that it was Lin Ran's words that completely changed his destiny.

It was originally just a temporary mission, and I was supposed to return to my country after it was completed.

As a result, his task became long-term from then on.

Now it seems that Chen Jingrun even feels he may never have the chance to return to mainland China in his lifetime.

The honors I received, though far from home, are still with my parents, and I will never forget them.

This is both a blessing and a curse, and it's hard to judge.

Besides Chen Jingrun, the other three winners are: Michael Atiyah, Alexander Grothendieck, and Stephen Smail.

Paul Cohen was the one whose term was shortened; he was rescheduled by one term.

When future generations evaluate his historical status, Chen Jingrun's status was significantly elevated because he shared the Fields Medal with Grothendieck and Atiyah.

After the award ceremony, the mathematicians moved to the lounge next to the auditorium to enjoy refreshments and exchange ideas.

Chen Jingrun was surrounded by a group of congratulatory guests, including Andrei Kolmogorov, one of the organizers of the conference.

The Soviet mathematical giant smiled and shook Chen's hand.

“Professor Chen, your achievements are inspiring,” Andrei said. “I look forward to your next breakthrough.”

Fields is just the beginning of a series of honors.

As a Hong Konger, Chen Jingrun received numerous honors from England, in addition to Fields.

Lin Ran would need parliamentary approval to receive an honorary knighthood from England, but Chen Jingrun had no concerns about this at all.

As for England, Lin Ran has always been an outsider. According to his official resume, he is of German-Chinese descent who immigrated to America and has no connection with England whatsoever.

At best, the relationship was that the other party was Chinese, and that a small part of England's overseas colonies were Chinese communities.

The main reason for awarding Lin Ran a knighthood and medals of honor was because Lin Ran was a White House official.

Lin Ran could receive these honors when he was a special assistant, but after becoming the director of NASA, he could no longer accept foreign honors.

England sending the letter to Chen Jingrun was practically begging for his help; the other party was the English.

People from Hong Kong are also English.

After the International Congress of Mathematicians in Moscow in August, Chen Jingrun flew to London.

Burlington Palace, located on Piccadilly Street in London, is brightly lit, with portraits of famous scientists such as Newton and Darwin hanging on its walls.

It is also a symbol of England's former scientific center. This is the location of the Royal Society of England.

The scientists here, dressed in formal attire, conversed in hushed tones, awaiting the awarding ceremony for academicians.

As a newly awarded Fields Medalist, Chen Jingrun's status as a Fellow of the Royal Society is well-deserved.

In addition to the academicians, there was also a ceremony to award honorary titles from Buckingham Palace.

Royal Society President Patrick Blackett took to the podium: "Today, we are honored to welcome Professor Dehui Chen as a Fellow of the Royal Society. His work has taken a giant leap forward in solving Goldbach's Conjecture, one of the oldest unsolved problems in the history of mathematics, adding a glorious page to the treasure trove of human knowledge."

Thunderous applause filled the hall.

Chen Jingrun remained very calm. He thought to himself, "The professor has experienced so many situations; no wonder he can remain calm under any circumstances."

Blackett gestured for Chen Jingrun to come up on stage. Chen Jingrun walked steadily onto the red-carpeted stage and accepted the certificate and medal handed to him by Blackett.

He took a deep breath and said in slightly accented English, "I thank the Royal Society for bestowing this prestigious honor upon me. Mathematics is my passion, and I hope my work will inspire more people to explore the mysteries of numbers."

That evening, Chen Jingrun stayed in a prime number room at the Clarridge Hotel, which was a special privilege for him.

The Royal Society of England made a special reservation for him in advance.

You should know that because of the Göttingen miracle, these two rooms are extremely popular, and you can't book them at all unless you book six months in advance.

To put it simply, anyone who comes to London for an academic conference, to pursue a PhD at a local university, to be a visiting scholar, or to do postdoctoral research will choose to stay one night in a prime room at the Clarridge Hotel during their time in London.

The official brochure of the Claritz Hotel has also been redesigned, explicitly stating: "During his stay at this hotel, the professor unraveled the mysteries of prime numbers and accomplished the Göttingen miracle."

Chen Jingrun entered the prime number room and found that the teacups there all had prime number elements written on them, clearly indicating (p, p+2).

This made Chen Jingrun realize the professor's influence.

That evening, the receptionist called: "Hello, is this Professor Chen?"

"Yes."

"Professor Chen, the professor is calling. Please come to the lobby to answer the call."

Lin Ran has already made "The Professor" his own nickname.

Whether it was sleepiness, thoughts about mathematical problems, or even the distracting ideas about whether thinking about mathematical problems was useful in the prime number room, all of these disappeared from Chen Jingrun's mind after receiving the call. He had only one thought: Lin Ran was looking for him.

"Hello, Professor."

A slightly tired voice came from the other end of the phone.

It's no wonder I'm exhausted.

In 1960, the mission to lead the moon landing had only six months to run.

I also want to preside over the moon landing in 2020. If the timing is good, there's still a year left.

But from a progress standpoint, both sides are extremely tense.

Lin Ran used the same management system in both 2020 and 1960, and he single-handedly managed it all.

Lin Ran felt that once he finished this busy period, he absolutely had to take a proper vacation.

"Dehui, it's like this, Mr. Xu Aizhou from Hong Kong has passed away. I can't go to Hong Kong, and I thought you were going back to Hong Kong anyway, so I thought I'd trouble you to make a trip for me and deliver some funeral couplets."

I've already had someone deliver the funeral couplet I wrote myself to Governor Theresa May. You can just go to him to pick it up later.

Chen Jingrun was not surprised by Lin Ran's reference to the Governor's House as a courier station. He nodded and said, "Okay, no problem."

Lin Ran was informed of Xu Aizhou's death by phone call from Xu Aizhou's son.

Lin Ran felt a pang of emotion upon learning this, realizing that this generation, who had lived through World War II, was gradually coming to an end.

Xu Aizhou is just the beginning of the curtain falling on this generation; the era of Horkheimer, Siegel, and others has passed.

Entrusted by Lin Ran, Chen Jingrun had to hastily cancel his speech at the University of London after receiving the medal and boarded a flight to Hong Kong ahead of schedule.

The University of London expressed its understanding, but said there was nothing they could do if they didn't, since Downing Street was unwilling to go against the professor's wishes on many matters.

Victoria Harbour was shrouded in a thin mist, and the fine drizzle added to the melancholy.

Inside the concert hall of the Hong Kong City Hall, a solemn and dignified atmosphere replaced the usual laughter and chatter.

White silk hung high in the hall, with a banner that read "Eternally Remembering Lord Xu," the characters strong and vigorous, expressing deep sorrow.

In the center of the stage, a giant portrait of Xu Aizhou occupies a prominent position.

On either side of the portrait, wreaths of white chrysanthemums and orchids were piled up like mountains.

As a business tycoon, the Xu family has risen rapidly in the past five years due to its share of the international shipping organization and its significant information advantage.

British capital has declined, while American Capital has made a strong entry.

America's army was stationed in Baiyue, and its goods were transshipped through Hong Kong. At the same time, many America's soldiers would choose to take a short break in Hong Kong during their holidays.

This has profoundly changed the ecology of Hong Kong to some extent.

England’s influence in Hong Kong is rapidly waning.

The gunfight in Sha Tau Kok earlier this year is considered a landmark event by many.

After all, with the collapse of Jardine Matheson, the English didn't dare utter a single word.

What else is there to say?
To some extent, England's influence in Hong Kong has waned to its lowest point.

As one of the earliest families to engage with British capital, the Xu family naturally benefited from the rise in status.

The hall was packed with Hong Kong business tycoons, political figures, philanthropists, and members of the Hui family, all dressed in black or white mourning clothes with solemn expressions.

Whispers mingled with occasional sobs, while a string quartet played a mournful yet gentle melody in the background, adding a touch of solemnity to the ceremony.

Chen Jingrun sat in the front row, wearing a dark suit with a white cloth strip pinned to his chest, in accordance with traditional funeral customs.

He held a scroll of calligraphy elegiac couplets tightly in his hand, which was an original manuscript of Lin Ran's handwriting that he had obtained from the Governor's House.

An elderly man with silver hair, dressed in a black suit, walked onto the stage and said in a deep and clear voice: "Now, please welcome Professor Chen Dehui to offer his condolences on behalf of NASA Administrator Randolph Lin."

All eyes were on Chen Jingrun.

Whether it's the people he represents or himself, he is a figure who cannot be ignored.

Chen Jingrun was a Fellow of the Royal Society of England, and also a Justice of the Peace and a member of the Order of the British Empire. In terms of status, he was in no way inferior to them.

Moreover, Lin Ran's choice to have Chen Jingrun represent him is already a symbol of trust.

For a moment, the entire venue was unusually quiet, without a sound, except for the sound of Chen Jingrun's leather shoes stepping on the tiles.

Chen Jingrun first bowed deeply to Xu Aizhou's portrait, then turned to the Xu family members sitting in the front row and nodded slightly in greeting.

He carefully unfolded the elegiac couplet and handed it to Xu Aizhou's eldest son, Xu Shixun, who was standing to the side.

On the funeral couplet, the bold, vibrant calligraphy leaps off the page:
"A maritime magnate, sailing the seas of commerce, achieving great success and fame."

Philanthropic pioneers, benefiting future generations, their virtues will live on forever.

Xu Shixun burst into tears after receiving the elegiac couplet, not because of Lin Ran, but because it reminded him of his father.

He had to admit that Xu Aizhou was shrewd and calculating. Choosing to give a building to Lin Ran was considered by Xu Aizhou in the last few years of his life to be the most worthwhile business deal he had ever made.

He said in a low voice, "Thank you for your kind words, Professor, and thank you for coming all this way, Mr. Chen."

Two ceremonial staff members then hung the elegiac couplets on either side of the portrait. The calligraphy shone brightly under the lights, drawing soft applause from the audience.

Lin Ran is being incredibly kind to me.

Everyone knows that having this funeral couplet means that the Xu family is under Lin Ran's protection.

In today's context of the shifting balance of power between England and America in Hong Kong, this carries profound symbolic significance.

Chen Jingrun turned to the microphone: "On behalf of Mr. Randolph Lin, I would like to extend my deepest condolences to the family of Mr. Xu Aizhou."

With his extraordinary vision and courage, Mr. Xu created a glorious chapter in Hong Kong's shipping industry. His fleet not only connected the world but also laid the foundation for global shipping standards.

His philanthropic work, whether in his hometown of Zhanjiang or Hong Kong, has benefited countless people and left an indelible mark.

Although the professor was unable to attend in person due to official business, his deep respect for Mr. Xu was evident in his words. This elegiac couplet expresses our remembrance of Mr. Xu's achievements and virtues.

As a Hong Konger, I am proud that my hometown has a pioneer like Mr. Xu. His spirit will inspire us to continue moving forward.

(End of this chapter)