My IQ has been increasing year by year.

USTC on July 6th.

Chen Zhuo stood in front of his bed and opened his suitcase.

He didn't actually have much to take.

A few changes of clothes, and several notebooks filled with dense math notes.

The rest of the items will be mailed directly back to Zeyang from here.

His plane ticket for the end of August was booked long ago. Now, he is preparing to return to Zeyang to spend the rest of his summer vacation at the age of fourteen.

On one corner of the desk, a "Student Departure Procedure Form of Huaguo University of Science and Technology" lay neatly, next to a key and a physics lab access card. Just then, the Nokia phone on the desk vibrated.

Chen Zhuo took the phone, pressed the answer button, and put the phone to his ear.

"Xiao Zhuo."

The voice on the other end of the phone had a heavy French accent, and the sound of a lawnmower could even be heard in the background. "Professor."

Chen Zhuo leaned against the edge of the desk, speaking softly.

"What are you doing right now? Packing your things?"

Pierre's voice was very loud, almost deafening.

Chen Zhuo glanced at the contents of the box and smiled.

"I'm tidying up my clothes."

"Packing my luggage."

Chen Zhuo glanced at the suitcase on the bed.

"I'm taking the train tomorrow morning to go back to my hometown."

"Oh, going back to my hometown is great."

Pierre seemed to switch hands while holding the receiver on the other end of the phone.

"The flight is on August 27th, right? Has it been rescheduled?"

"No rebooking, it's still the same train."

"That's good."

Pierre coughed, his tone suddenly becoming somewhat unnatural.

"Ever since I discussed having you come and stay at my house with my wife, she's practically turned the house upside down."

Pierre sighed.

"She vacated the south-facing guest room. Yesterday, even though it was drizzling, she insisted on driving me to the department store in the city to buy the thickest down comforter." Chen Zhuo paused for a moment, glanced at the bright sun outside the window, and said gently.

"Professor, August in New Jersey is summer."

"What's wrong with summer? Doesn't it get cold in October?"

Pierre was perfectly justified.

"The weather is nice today, so that quilt is drying on the clothesline in my yard."

Chen Zhuo held his phone, a smile slowly spreading across his eyes.

"Please thank your teacher's wife for me."

"There's one more thing."

Pierre lowered his voice.

"She always thinks that fast food in the US will ruin people's brains. These past few days she's been going to Chinatown every day to learn how to cook Chinese food from the owner of that Sichuan restaurant. Although the shredded pork she stir-fried yesterday tasted a bit strange, at least after she practices for a month, you can have hot rice when you come over."

Chen Zhuo imagined the scene: an elderly foreign woman diligently stir-frying twice-cooked pork in the kitchen, and his heart softened for some reason. "Actually, I can cook a little too," Chen Zhuo said.

"You should stay out of the kitchen."

Pierre immediately interrupted him.

"Your hands are for writing formulas. Listen, after you get off the plane, find a place to sit in the terminal and don't go anywhere. I'll come pick you up." "Okay."

"Okay, that's enough. I'm going to go check on that blanket."

Pierre hurriedly prepared to hang up, but added one last sentence at the last minute.

"Have a safe journey, Xiao Zhuo."

"You are too, Professor."

The call ended, and the phone screen went dark.

Chen Zhuo put his phone back on the table, turned around and stuffed the remaining two short-sleeved shirts into his suitcase, then zipped it up.

He glanced at the time; it was 2:30 PM.

Chen Zhuo turned around, picked up the "Leaving School Procedure Form" on the desk, and put the key and access card into his pocket.

He also had to finish stamping the form and return the privilege tokens belonging to the school.

Chen Zhuo pushed open the dormitory door and walked out.

Stepping out of the boys' dormitory, a wave of heat immediately enveloped us.

Before the holiday, USTC was full of students dragging their suitcases.

Some people hugged their classmates at the crossroads, while others called home from public phone booths, announcing their train arrival times. Chen Zhuo walked along the path in front of the trees, his pace neither fast nor slow.

He bypassed the second canteen, crossed a small playground, and arrived at the mathematics department building.

When Chen Zhuo reached the door of Li Jianming's office, he raised his hand and knocked twice.

"Enter."

Li Jianming's voice came from inside.

Chen Zhuo pushed open the door and went inside.

He had been to this office many times.

In my memory, Li Jianming's desk was always piled high with stacks of draft paper, foreign journals, and half-corrected papers; even placing a water glass required careful searching for space. But today, this large desk was spotless, and all those complicated mathematical materials were gone.

In the center of the desk, there was only a white porcelain tea set.

Li Jianming was fiddling with the teapot in his hands, pouring hot water over it, and a delicate aroma of green tea filled the office with the rising steam. "Coming."

Li Jianming didn't look up, but simply pointed to the chair opposite the table.

Chen Zhuo walked over and sat down quietly.

He took the "Leaving School Procedure Form" out of his pocket and placed it flat on the table.

Then he took out the key and gently placed it next to the sheet.

This is the key to Li Jianming's office.

"Teacher, you need to sign this form."

Chen Zhuo handed over the pen.

"Here's the key back to you."

Li Jianming glanced at the things on the table.

He took the pen, signed his name in the name column of the form with a flourish, and then stamped it with the red seal of the School of Mathematical Sciences.

But he didn't go to get the key.

Li Jianming pushed the signed form back to Chen Zhuo, then reached out and pushed the key into Chen Zhuo's hand.

"I've signed the form, keep the keys with you."

Li Jianming picked up a small porcelain cup and pushed it in front of Chen Zhuo.

The tea has a clear yellow-green color, with a few tender tea leaves slowly unfurling at the bottom of the cup.

Li Jianming sat up straight and placed his hands crossed on the table.

"I usually don't even drink this myself; it's a pre-Qingming tea that someone gave me."

Chen Zhuo picked up the teacup, gently blew on the steam, and took a small sip.

It was slightly bitter, but after swallowing it, a faint sweetness rose in my throat.

"Good tea."

Chen Zhuo put down his cup.

Li Jianming looked at the boy sitting opposite him.

Fourteen years old.

His shoulders hadn't fully developed yet, and you could still see a hint of childishness on his face.

But it was these clean, calm eyes that, in the past six months, pierced through the fog that the international algebraic geometry community had been unable to see through for thirty years. Li Jianming didn't talk about Pierre, the Hodge conjecture, or those complex matrices and topologies.

"Have you packed everything for your trip home?"

Li Jianming asked, his tone as indifferent as a routine greeting before a holiday.

"It's all packed up," Chen Zhuo replied.

"Um."

Li Jianming nodded, his gaze falling on Chen Zhuo's hands.

"Princeton is a great place for academic research. There are many eccentric people and geniuses there. Going there is like being on your home turf." Li Jianming picked up his teacup, took a sip, and sighed.

"However, the outside world is ultimately different from home."

The old professor spoke very softly.

"Foreigners mostly eat raw and cold food. With your Chinese stomach, you'll definitely find it hard to get used to at first. They're straightforward in their speech and actions, and sometimes they're a bit single-minded, unlike us who value social niceties." Chen Zhuo listened quietly, watching the tea leaves floating in his cup.

"If you don't like Western food over there, go to the supermarket and buy some noodles to cook. If you feel you can't communicate with the foreigners around you and don't want to talk, just shut up and read a book." Li Jianming's eyes softened, as if he were looking at his grandson who was about to leave.

"Don't keep your anger to yourself, okay?"

"Understood, teacher."

Chen Zhuo responded softly.

Li Jianming turned his head and looked at the empty desk by the window in the corner of the office, the place where Chen Zhuo used to sit and deduce formulas. "There are never enough books to read, and never enough problems to solve."

Li Jianming looked at Chen Zhuo again, his gaze firm and profound.

"If one day you're unhappy outside, feeling that the feng shui there isn't conducive to your well-being, or that you've been wronged there..." Li Jianming paused, then said, word by word.

"Buy a plane ticket and come back."

Chen Zhuo raised his head and met the old professor's gaze.

"The Department of Mathematics doesn't have that kind of grand setup, and I can't give you any world-class laboratories, but..."

Li Jianming pointed to the table in the corner, and then to the key next to Chen Zhuo.

"A quiet office, a clean desk, I'll keep them ready for you anytime, old man."

The office was quiet.

Only the cicadas outside the window continued their tireless chirping.

Chen Zhuo picked up the cup of tea, which had cooled down a bit, and drank it all in one gulp.

He stood up, pushed the chair back to its original position, then took a step back and bowed deeply to Li Jianming, earnestly and without any perfunctory manner. "I'll send you a letter once I'm settled."

Chen Zhuo straightened up, looked at Li Jianming, and smiled.

"If it's not too much trouble, please treat me to this tea again next time I come back."

Li Jianming waved his hand, as if shooing away flies, and turned to look out the window.

"Get out of here, stop getting in my way."

Chen Zhuo turned and walked out of the office.

The moment the door closed, he heard the soft sound of a teacup tapping on the table.

A short walk from the math department building is the physics department building.

Unlike the unusually quiet atmosphere in the mathematics department, the physics department always exudes a sense of busyness.

Chen Zhuo's paperwork was still missing the seal of the Taoist priest.

He stopped just as he reached the corner of the flower bed in front of the physics building.

The sorcerer was leaning against the thick trunk of a camphor tree, flipping through a document idly in his hand. When he saw Chen Zhuo approaching, he casually rolled the document into a tube and straightened up. He was clearly here to time his ambush.

"Chen Zhuo".

The sorcerer, carrying a paper tube, strode over.

"Go to the administration building to submit the form?"

Chen Zhuo stood still.

"Yes, Ms. Fang, the paperwork still needs your signature."

Chen Zhuo handed over the form and at the same time took out the physics lab access card from his pocket and handed it to Fang Shi.

The Taoist priest didn't take the access card, he only took the form.

He pulled a pen from his shirt pocket, placed it on the rolled-up document, quickly signed it, and casually tossed it back to Chen Zhuo.

"Keep the access card as a souvenir, and I don't plan to change the lab password either."

The sorcerer waved his hand, not even bothering to take the card.

He put the pen back in his pocket, then pulled out a white card with no title, only a name and a string of numbers printed on it, and stuffed it directly into Chen Zhuo's short-sleeved shirt pocket. "The rules are different here in America."

The sorcerer suppressed his smile and frowned slightly.

"Academia isn't as clean as you think; it's full of well-dressed scoundrels."

Chen Zhuo glanced down at the white card peeking out of his pocket.

"You're young and quick-witted, which makes you an easy target for those seasoned veterans."

The sorcerer patted Chen Zhuo on the shoulder, his grip a little too strong.

"If someone tries to pull a fast one on your name rights or forces you to hand over data you don't want to give, don't talk to them about gentlemanly conduct." Fang Shi looked into Chen Zhuo's clean eyes, his tone becoming extremely firm.

"Don't try to handle things alone; call this number anytime."

"Although I am in the country, I can't reach that far."

The sorcerer snorted coldly.

"But if I want to teach a few arrogant academic fraudsters a lesson and ruin a few of their collaborative projects, I, Fangshi, can still manage it." Chen Zhuo solemnly stuffed the business card back into his pocket and put it away properly.

"I've got it."

Chen Zhuo nodded.

"Alright, get lost."

Fang Shi turned around and walked towards the physics building, waving his hand behind Chen Zhuo's back.

"If you find pure mathematics too abstract and want to get into something tangible and switch to physics once you get there, contact me." Chen Zhuo watched the Taoist priest's figure disappear behind the door, then turned and walked towards the administration building.

The piece of cardboard in his pocket rubbed gently against the fabric as he walked, exuding a reassuring confidence.

Administration building.

Chen Zhuo knocked on the door twice, and after hearing Zhou Qiping's voice from inside, he pushed the door open and went in.

Zhou Qiping was standing in front of the bookshelf against the wall looking for documents when he saw Chen Zhuo come in. He put down what he was doing and went back to his desk.

"Principal Zhou, the school departure forms have all the stamps."

Chen Zhuo walked to the desk and handed over the "Leaving School Procedure Form" covered with red stamps and signatures with both hands.

Zhou Qiping took it and glanced down at the signatures of Li Jianming and Fang Shi.

He placed the form neatly on the table, then opened a drawer, took out a thin envelope, and handed it to Chen Zhuo. This was a formal administrative transfer.

Chen Zhuo took it; the envelope was very light and unsealed.

Inside was a document stamped with the bright red official seal of USTC.

Retain student status and leave of absence certificate.

Zhou Qiping looked at the young man in front of him.

As the headmaster of a school, Zhou Qiping has seen too many geniuses, but Chen Zhuo is one of a kind.

Zhou Qiping took a small step forward.

He didn't extend his hand to shake hands, but like an ordinary elder in the family, he reached out and gently smoothed and straightened Chen Zhuo's slightly rolled-up collar. His movements were very light and careful.

"Have you packed everything for your trip home?"

Zhou Qiping withdrew his hand and looked at him, asking.

"All packed up."

"Um."

Zhou Qiping nodded.

The light from the windows in the corridor made Zhou Qiping's expression appear unusually solemn.

"The road outside is not easy; you will encounter many things that are more complicated than exams and problem-solving."

Zhou Qiping's voice wasn't loud, but it carried weight in the spacious office.

"But remember, you're not going out alone."

Zhou Qiping looked into Chen Zhuo's eyes and said, word by word.

"Your student status and records will be sealed and preserved by HKUST indefinitely."

Zhou Qiping's tone left no room for negotiation; it only showed a protective attitude.

"Once you get there, no matter what academic barriers, nationality discrimination, or even funding difficulties you encounter, just call back. HKUST will always be your strongest backer." Chen Zhuo's fingers twitched slightly as he held the envelope.

"Mathematics has no borders, but mathematicians do."

Zhou Qiping patted Chen Zhuo on the shoulder with a steady pat.

"USTC can't keep you because USTC isn't strong enough right now. Go to the top and see the best view from the top."

"USTC will always be your support."

Zhou Qiping pointed to the office floor.

"Remember, you have a family."

Chen Zhuo felt as if something had gently bumped into his chest, leaving him feeling both sore and swollen.

"And your dorm room."

Zhou Qiping's tone softened, becoming warmer.

"I've already spoken to the logistics department and the dormitory manager. Your dormitory will remain empty forever unless you say you're moving out. No one can touch it or move in." Chen Zhuo gripped the envelope tightly, feeling the weight of the bright red official seal.

He didn't say anything more, he just nodded vigorously.

"Go."

Zhou Qiping took half a step back.

Chen Zhuo took the envelope, turned around, and walked out down the corridor.