My IQ has been increasing year by year.

Chapter 441 Let's vote!

thump.

thump.

Thomas tapped the table twice with his knuckles.

The sounds in the conference room fell silent.

Nine people sat around a long table. Outside the window, it was a gloomy afternoon in Zurich. Rainwater slid down the glass and accumulated a thin layer of watermarks on the windowsill.

A gray folder sat on the table.

The folder had no header, no emblem, and no markings that would be easily understood by outsiders.

When it was opened, the top page was Chen Zhuo.

Thomas removed his hand from the folder and looked up.

"Now, let's discuss Chen Zhuo again."

No one was surprised. At the end of the last meeting, only a short line was drawn under this name.

There is no checkmark.

There is no question mark.

It wasn't crossed out.

It was simply held up and placed at the very front of the next meeting.

And now, the next meeting is here.

Thomas did not go through the Madrid Congress process again, nor did he discuss the speakers, reception, program book, and opening ceremony arrangements.

Those are all in another folder.

Today, this gray folder contains only one thing.

Four names.

The first three have gradually stabilized after several rounds of discussions.

Some achievements have been dormant for many years, some breakthroughs are clear enough, and some, although still involving other issues, are already unavoidable. The real bottleneck is the fourth one.

Thomas moved Chen Zhuo's page forward a little.

"The situation regarding external readings has changed in the past few weeks."

The slender committee member sitting on the left raised his eyes.

Thomas continued:

"I won't talk about the media or rumors."

"This only applies to the mathematics community."

"The reading groups in Cambridge, Bonn, Paris, and Chicago have all reached the core of the main theme, but there is still no consensus, and no committee can represent the whole world in agreeing."

He paused.

"But some people have already written down a clear judgment."

The meeting room was quiet.

The secretary was taking notes. Thomas looked at the papers on the table.

"Some people believe that Chen Zhuo succeeded."

After those words were spoken, none of the people around the long table immediately responded.

This is not the first time it has appeared.

Over the past few days, similar assessments have been circulating in different places.

Some are cautious.

Some are direct.

Some were only written in private letters.

Some of these were written into the reading class notes.

These statements cannot yet be considered public conclusions.

But they were enough to change the atmosphere here.

The slender committee member spoke slowly. "Hodge's conjecture cannot be used as a basis for conclusions."

"Of course," Thomas said.

"It has not yet fully completed external verification."

"Yes."

"Then we can't vote for it today."

Thomas nodded.

"We are not voting because of Hodge."

Just as the thin committee member was about to continue, Thomas pulled out another document and placed it below Chen Zhuo's page.

"But we can't pretend it didn't happen."

The gray-haired woman then spoke.

"Chen Zhuo did not appear here for the first time because of the Hodge preprint."

Her voice wasn't loud, but it made several people in the conference room look up. "At the last meeting, Hodge hadn't made it public yet."

"His name was already on the table at that time."

"That preprint just makes us see one thing clearly again."

She gently tapped Chen Zhuo's materials with her finger.

"What he has accomplished over the past few years is not a series of isolated, impressive results."

"It's a road."

On the other side of the long table, someone was looking down and flipping through Chen Zhuo's old materials.

constant.

Annual Review of Mathematics.

Discrete method.

Regular functions.

Those things were already astonishing enough before Hodge's preprint was published. Now, they've suddenly come together.

Like several lamps that were originally scattered, suddenly shining in the same direction.

The thin committee member did not immediately refute.

He looked at Chen Zhuo's page, remained silent for a moment, and said:

He's only fifteen years old.

Upon hearing this, the gray-haired woman looked up.

"This statement was already recorded at the last meeting."

The thin committee member stopped.

She continued:

"If you still have objections today, please cite mathematics."

There was a moment of silence in the conference room.

That wasn't a strong statement. It wasn't even considered harsh.

But it blocked one road.

Too young, that's certainly a fact.

But facts can't always be a reason.

Especially after it has already been discussed once.

Another committee member whispered:

"The problem is not age itself."

The thin committee member looked at him.

The man said:

"The problem is that it will change the entire way awards are seen."

"If you give it to him, all the titles will be 'Fifteen Years Old'."

"Hodge, Princeton, the youngest Chinese teenager." "Mathematics itself will be overwhelmed."

Thomas did not answer immediately.

This is not unreasonable.

They all understood how the world would react once this was settled.

Chen Zhuo's age will be listed first.

His nationality will be listed first.

His Hodge preprint will be placed first.

Many people wouldn't even ask what his math was about first.

They would just say, "He's a fifteen-year-old Fields Medal winner."

A brief silence fell over the meeting room.

Then the gray-haired woman said:

"That's not his problem." She paused.

"That shouldn't be our excuse either."

No one responded.

Thomas pushed another document next to him toward the center of the table.

"There's a fourth spot."

As soon as those words were spoken, everyone's attention turned to them.

That document was thicker than Chen Zhuo's.

The resume is longer.

The list of papers is more organized.

His academic path is also more like that of a traditional Fields Medal candidate.

Martin Klein.

I'm thirty-nine. In a few months, I'll be forty.

This is his last chance.

Karel sat on the right side of the long table, his hand resting on Klein's document.

At this moment, he finally spoke.

"I still want to talk about Klein."

No one interrupted him.

Karel and Klein had known each other for many years.

They attended meetings together, had discussions together, and even argued with each other for a long time on certain issues.

Karel did not place this document at the end for personal reasons.

Everyone at the table knew that Klein deserved to be discussed seriously.

He has been pursuing his own path for over a decade.

The results are solid and the impact is profound. Over the past three years, he has been on the last few pages of almost every candidate discussion.

If it weren't for this year, this name might not be stuck here.

Karel opened the document and pressed his finger on one of the pages.

"He wasn't ranked lower because he wasn't good enough."

This statement made the meeting room even quieter.

"We all know that his results are sufficient to advance to the final discussion."

"If he doesn't get it this time, he won't get another chance."

"Rules are rules."

"Once he turns forty, he won't be at this table anymore."

His voice was flat.

There was no excitement.

There was no blame. But that's precisely why these words sound even heavier.

Karel looked at Thomas.

"I'm not saying Chen Zhuo shouldn't be discussed."

"I'm just saying that Klein shouldn't be sidelined just because he didn't get a big enough headline."

The gray-haired woman frowned slightly.

Karel added:

"He didn't have Hodge's conjecture."

"Not fifteen years old."

"Without Princeton and the media surrounding you."

"He only has a little over ten years of work experience."

"But the Fields Medal shouldn't just be awarded to the most famous names."

This time, no one immediately objected. Because what they said was also true.

Klein was not just a runner-up.

He did not exist to highlight Chen Zhuo.

If the world of mathematics hadn't encountered Chen Zhuo that year, he would likely have been the fourth name on the list.

Thomas looked down at the two documents.

Chen Zhuo.

Klein.

One is too young.

One is almost outside the line.

A new mountain that seems to have suddenly appeared.

It's like someone who has already reached the door, only to find that there is an even higher mountain in front of them.

The sound of rain intensified in the meeting room. After a while, a committee member sitting at the far end spoke.

"We cannot vote for regret."

Karel looked up at him.

The man did not avoid his gaze.

"I respect Klein."

"No one here disrespects him."

"But if we give him the vote just because he doesn't have a next time, that's not respectful to him."

Karel's lips moved slightly, but he didn't speak.

The committee member continued:

"If Chen Zhuo's youth becomes a reason for him not to win an award."

"The fact that Klein is almost forty years old cannot be a reason for him to win the award."

Thomas then chimed in, "Age is not a reason."

He looked at the people on both sides of the long table.

"Too small is not good."

"Too late isn't good either."

After those words were spoken, everyone at the table looked down at the materials in their hands.

The slender committee member rubbed his temples.

"If we only look at the results that have already been achieved, Klein is more reliable."

The gray-haired woman said, "If we only consider the degree to which it cannot be avoided, Chen Zhuo is more serious."

"Hodge doesn't count yet."

"Then it doesn't count as Hodge."

"Can you really not count it?"

This sentence brought the discussion back to Chen Zhuo's document. No one answered quickly.

Because the answer is obvious.

No.

Even if Hodge isn't mentioned in the award citation.

Even if all publicly available documents only list results that have been published, confirmed, and repeatedly verified.

The Hodge preprint is still there.

It transformed Chen Zhuo's past work into something else entirely.

Previously, a young mathematician had been making a series of amazing results.

Now it seems as if those results have been heading in the same direction from the very beginning.

The thin committee member looked at the few pages of paper and slowly said:

"That's not fair."

Nobody asked him who he was being unfair to. He was being unfair to Klein.

It's unfair to the other candidates.

It's even unfair to Chen Zhuo.

Because everyone puts too much pressure on him.

But awards aren't always fair.

It can only select the people it absolutely cannot miss from a limited number of positions.

Karel pulled Klein's document a little closer to himself.

"I'm saying this one last time."

Thomas looked at him.

Karel said:

"I voted for Klein, not because he's almost forty."

"Because he deserves it." That statement makes it very clear.

Thomas nodded.

"I know."

Karel then looked at Chen Zhuo's document.

"I also admit that Chen Zhuo deserves it."

After he finished speaking, the conference room fell silent.

That's the hardest part.

One is not enough, and the other is not enough.

It's enough.

There's only one fourth spot.

Thomas closed the documents in his hand.

"Vote," the secretary said, looking up.

No one spoke.

She stood up and placed the prepared slips of paper in front of the nine committee members one by one.

The piece of paper was very small.

There's nothing superfluous on it.

There are only two names.

Chen Zhuo.

Martin Klein.

This is not the final procedure for all awards.

The first three names were decided in the previous rounds.

This is the final vote for the fourth position.

The only sound in the room was the scratching of pens on paper. Someone was writing very quickly.

Someone stopped for a long time.

Karel stared at the two names on the slip of paper, his fingers hovering over the pen, hesitant to write.

In the end, he still wrote it.

The secretary collected the slips of paper one by one.

Thomas did not look out the window.

He didn't look at anyone.

He just waited.

A few minutes later, the secretary handed him the results.

Thomas glanced down.

In the conference room, everyone's eyes were on the paper in his hand.

He put the paper down. "Chen Zhuo, six votes."

"Martin Klein, three votes."

No one spoke.

Thomas raised his head.

"Most passed."

He paused.

"The fourth name is Chen Zhuo."

The secretary lowered her head and wrote this line in her notebook.

Chen Zhuo.

The fourth name.

There was no applause in the meeting room.

There were no congratulations. Nor did anyone show any obvious relief.

This is not the opening ceremony.

This is not a news scene.

It's not even a place to be happy.

It's just a moment when the result comes to fruition.

Carrel sat there, his gaze still fixed on Klein's document.

After a while, he reached out and closed the document.

The movements were very gentle.

A corner of the last page of the document is visible.

It says my birth date.

In a few months, Martin Klein will turn forty.

Karel's hand paused on the folder. He didn't look at anyone else.

He just whispered:

"It just so happens to be this year."

The voice was very low.

So low that only he himself could hear it.

Thomas heard it.

But he didn't respond.

The gray folder was closed again.

The rain is still falling outside the window.

The fourth name has already been written in the notebook in the meeting room.

Chen Zhuo.