My IQ has been increasing year by year.

Chapter 427 Certification Completed

When Chen Zhuo opened Hodge's manuscript again, he first turned to the last page.

On the last page, those five words are still there.

It worked on the first try.

The ink had dried completely, pressed under the paper, with an empty space next to it, which had been there for the past few days.

Chen Zhuo sat at the table and stared at it for a long time.

The morning at Van En Lou was still very quiet.

The shadows of the trees outside the window pressed against the glass. The sky was a pale gray. Occasionally, someone would pass by in the corridor, their footsteps very light and quickly fading into the distance.

The light yellow folder sat on the corner of the table.

The Madrid title page is still inside.

The title bar is empty.

Chen Zhuo glanced at it but didn't take it.

He pulled out the last few pages from Hodge's manuscript folder and pressed them down in order.

Then, he took the pen out of his pencil case.

When the pen cap is pulled off, it makes a very soft sound.

The black ink spread across the tip of the pen.

Chen Zhuo did not write immediately.

He first looked at the five words "First pass was successful".

After looking at it for a while, he pressed the pen down.

A line cut through the middle of those five words.

It worked on the first try.

Chen Zhuo pushed the last page up a little, revealing the clean backing paper underneath.

This isn't the first time.

The pen fell.

The first line was written very slowly.

The ink left clear marks on the paper.

After finishing writing, he didn't pause for long and immediately continued writing.

The paper was gently wiped across the table.

The gray outside the window slowly brightened.

Someone was boiling water in the tea room. The kettle hit the table, and a muffled thud came from behind the door. People were talking in the hallway, discussing the afternoon's report, and then quickly walked away.

Chen Zhuo did not go out.

The blank space at the bottom of the last page is missing a section.

He put down the pen and flexed his fingers.

The cuff brushed against the edge of the paper, leaving a small dark ink stain.

He glanced down at it but ignored it.

He continued writing.

Around 10 a.m., Woolley knocked on the door.

"Do you want me to bring you some food?"

Chen Zhuo looked up.

It was as if I had just realized that it was already morning.

"Need not."

Woolley stood in the doorway and glanced at the table.

The manuscript paper is not messy.

But Chen Zhuo sat very upright, the water glass on the table was still full, and he hadn't taken the bread out of his bag.

Woolley glanced again at the open pen.

Are you sure?

"Sure."

Woolley nodded and gently closed the door.

The door closed very quietly.

Chen Zhuo lowered his head.

The pen fell again.

Another line.

One more line.

The ink was pressed down line by line.

Before noon, only one-third of the space on the last page, which was originally empty, remained.

Chen Zhuo finally took the bread out of his bag.

He took a bite.

After chewing it only a few times, I put it back in the paper bag.

The water glass was picked up.

The rim of the cup touched my lips, then I put it down.

I didn't drink a drop.

He looked at the last page.

He picked up the pen again.

In the afternoon, there were a few more voices in Fan En Building.

The sound of a chair being dragged away came from the next office. Someone passed by the door with hurried steps. There was light under the door, and a small shadow flickered by.

Chen Zhuo did not look up.

The pen moved across the paper faster than it had in the morning.

He paused in one spot where the ink was a little too dark, waiting for it to dry slightly before continuing to write.

The blank space at the bottom of the last page gets narrower and narrower.

The old and new characters on the paper are connected together.

He pressed the pages of manuscript he had left behind a few days ago down one by one.

He paused for two seconds when he wrote down an old sentence.

There is another word in the old sentence.

Candidate.

It's hidden in a very long sentence.

Chen Zhuo looked at those two words.

The pen was pressed down.

A black line flashed across the sky.

Write it down again next to it.

Algebraic loops.

After he finished writing, he turned the page forward and then backward.

It didn't stop.

After a while, he suddenly let out a short laugh.

The sound was very soft.

It looked like it was leaking from his chest.

He didn't look up.

The pen continues downwards.

Around 3 PM, only a few lines of blank space remained on the last page.

Chen Zhuo leaned forward slightly, his back leaving the chair.

The light from outside the window changed from white to yellow, moving along the window frame to the edge of the table.

The light yellow folder on the corner of the table was blown by the wind, revealing a corner of the title page.

Chen Zhuo's hand paused for a moment.

He saw that blank corner.

Then I turned my gaze back to the last page.

The pen continued to fall.

This time, the speed was slower.

Each word was pressed very firmly.

The last few lines are not long.

But Chen Zhuo wrote more slowly than the previous ones.

The radiator made a soft sound.

There was laughter and chatter outside in the corridor, but the sound dissipated by the time it reached the door.

Chen Zhuo's fingers were a little tense.

The pen tip stopped before the last line.

He pulled that page closer to him.

The edge of the paper brushed against the table, making a soft sound.

The evening light sank down.

The office was a bit dark.

Chen Zhuo reached out and turned on the table lamp.

The lights went out, and the last page shone brightly.

There's only one line left.

He sat under the lamp, motionless for a long time.

The water on the table was still untouched.

I only took one bite of the bread.

The light yellow title page was tucked under the book, with only one corner showing.

Hodge's full manuscript was laid out in front of him.

Every previous page has been pressed down.

Chen Zhuo picked up his pen.

The pen tip hovers above the paper.

It paused for a few seconds.

Fall.

The last line begins to take shape.

The pen glides across the paper, making a very soft scratching sound.

One word.

A symbol.

Another symbol.

As I finished writing, the pen stopped.

Chen Zhuo did not raise his hand.

He looked at that line.

Once.

One more time.

When he saw the last symbol for the third time, he suddenly smiled.

This time it wasn't the light laugh from this morning.

It wasn't suppressed this time.

His lips twitched first, and then the breath in his chest seemed to finally break through something.

Chen Zhuo moved the pen down.

There was no "first draft".

It did not say "To be organized".

It also didn't say "completed".

He wrote two words at the very bottom of the last page.

Q.E.D.

The two words fell.

The ink is very black.

It's placed at the very bottom of the last page.

The office fell silent for a moment.

Chen Zhuo stared at those two words.

The next second, he slowly stood up.

The chair slid backward and crashed into the side of the bookshelf with a bang.

His right hand clenched tightly.

There were ink stains on the cuffs and a little paper dust on the back of the hand.

He swung the stack of manuscript papers upwards with a fierce motion.

"It's done!"

The sound echoed in the office.

The footsteps outside the corridor paused for a moment.

Chen Zhuo did not turn around.

He looked at the stack of papers on the table.

The smile could no longer be suppressed, rising from the depths of his eyes.

There were two words on the bottom of the stack of papers on the table.

Q.E.D.

Chen Zhuo stood in front of the table, his breathing heavier than usual.

After a long while, he sat down again.

The chair made another thud on the floor as he pulled it back.

He read the last page from beginning to end.

After reading it, I looked at the last two words.

The ink wasn't completely dry yet.

Chen Zhuo put down his pen and reached out to pull out the light yellow question page from the corner of the table.

The paper is clean.

The title bar is empty.

Chen Zhuo looked at it.

That line from the letter in Madrid seemed to flash before my eyes again.

Hodge's conjecture and related developments.

He straightened the title page.

I picked up the pen again.

The pen tip landed on the title bar.

Proof of the Hodge conjecture.

After writing the last word, Chen Zhuo did not continue writing the abstract.

He picked up the title page and placed it on top of Hodge's full manuscript.

Align the paper edges.

At the very top is the proof of Hodge's conjecture.

At the very bottom is the Q.E.D. statement.

Chen Zhuo's palm pressed down on the stack of manuscript papers.