Chapter 444 Schedule

In late July, the whiteboard in the Van En Lou lounge was wiped very clean.

Before nine o'clock in the morning, Woolley came in carrying a newly printed conference schedule. He first peeled off the old notice next to the coffee machine, and then used magnetic clips to stick the pages back on one by one.

Madrid.

August 22nd to 30th.

International Congress of Mathematicians.

The moment the first few lines of text were posted, someone in the lounge stopped in their tracks.

A doctoral student, holding a cup of coffee, leaned over to look at it before even bringing the cup to his lips.

"Has a formal schedule been released?"

Woolley pressed the last page flat.

"The latest version."

Another graduate student next to him immediately put his bag on the chair.

"Which page is Chen's scene on?"

"Page three," Woolley said.

The person simply flipped over.

The paper was flipped up and then slapped back onto the whiteboard.

Soon, several people gathered around.

Algebraic Geometry Branch.

Topology Branch.

Reports related to complex geometry.

Opening ceremony.

A one-hour invited report.

Someone took a pencil and drew a small circle next to the show they wanted to attend, but halfway through, they felt it wasn't clear enough and changed it to an asterisk.

"You've used too many asterisks," someone next to me said.

"I want to hear them all."

"You can sit in eight shows a day?"

Even if you can't sit down, circle it first.

Someone chuckled.

The lounge became lively.

Fan Enlou was usually lively, but that liveliness was mostly suppressed behind the pages and blackboard. Some people were arguing about a definition, some were running to get coffee, and some were carrying back a stack of new papers from next to the printer, looking rather grim.

Today is different.

After the word "Madrid" was pasted up, the air in the building seemed to be gently pushed.

Some people are going to Europe for the first time.

Some people are attending the International Congress of Mathematicians for the first time.

Some people said they were just there to listen to a report, but then turned around and asked if it was hot in Madrid at night.

Some people are interested in the branch report.

Some people are interested in the opening ceremony.

More people are concerned about Chen Zhuo's performance.

"There definitely won't be enough room for him at that event."

"The main venue is very large."

"No matter how big it is, it's not enough. Hodge guessed that with those four words out there, who wouldn't go?"

The problem is, can they understand it?

"You have to go even if you don't understand," someone said. "If someone asks you if you were there that day, you can't just say you overslept."

Everyone laughed.

After the laughter subsided, someone lowered their voice and asked, "Do you think Perelman will come?"

Upon hearing this, the person next to him subconsciously glanced towards the door.

"Before every conference, someone would say he would come."

"This time is different."

"What's different?"

The person who asked the question did not answer, but only looked towards the end of the corridor.

Chen Zhuo's office door was closed.

There was a sliver of light coming from under the door crack.

Woolley was sorting through the remaining printouts when he heard this and looked up at them.

The students immediately dispersed a little, as if they hadn't said anything at all.

Woolley didn't scold anyone; he simply pasted another page onto the schedule he had on his desk.

"Use a pencil to circle things, not a pen," he said. "Last time, someone circled a coffee discussion and turned it into a closed-door discussion, causing three people to go to the wrong place."

There was another burst of laughter in the lounge.

Before noon, a schedule was added to the main conference room of Fan Enlou.

This one wasn't pasted on the corner of the whiteboard, but rather spread out in the center of the long table.

Pierre, Cyril, Arthur, and several other professors who were also going to Madrid sat around the table.

There was no coffee on the table.

There was only a schedule, a few replies, and a few report summaries that had been read many times.

Cyril lightly drew a line under Chen Zhuo's report with a pencil.

"After he finishes his report, we can't let reporters surround him immediately."

Arthur looked up.

"The reporters can't be stopped."

Cyril looked at him.

Arthur said, "The mathematicians will block it first."

Someone nearby chuckled.

Pierre did not laugh.

He looked at that line of schedules.

Chen Zhuo's name was printed in the one-hour report section, followed by the title.

Proof of the Hodge conjecture.

I had read this line of text many times before it was sent out from Van Enlou.

But now it's printed on Madrid's official schedule, alongside names from all over the world, and it still looks...

A different kind of weight.

Arthur said, "It would be best to reserve a room for you after the report."

Cyril asked, "A closed-door discussion?"

"It doesn't necessarily have to be behind closed doors," Arthur said, "but there has to be a place for them to keep asking questions; there's no end to the questions from the audience."

"They'll ask about the most difficult parts," another professor said.

"Then let them ask. I have confidence in Chen Zhuo."

Pierre said it very plainly.

The area around the table fell silent for a moment.

Pierre turned to the previous page of the schedule.

"Grey will arrive."

"And Le Maire?"

"They replied from Paris," Cyril said. "He said he'll come."

Arthur's eyebrows twitched.

Will he sit in the front row?

"If he sits in the back, the problems will come from the back."

Even Pierre smiled this time.

Woolley stood to the side, arranging the confirmation replies by city.

Cambridge.

Paris.

Bonn.

Chicago.

Zurich.

These names have been appearing in envelopes, mail, blackboards, and margins at Van Een House for the past few months.

Now, they are slowly converging on Madrid.

Cyril looked at the schedule and suddenly said, "After this report, we won't be able to clarify things behind closed doors in Vane Building anymore."

Pierre hummed in agreement.

"It couldn't have been closed anyway."

"I know." Cyril put down his pencil. "It's just that at this point, it still feels too fast."

Arthur said, "People outside are getting impatient; they're getting restless."

Pierre looked out the window.

The July sun shone on the lawn outside Van En Building, and the leaves remained motionless.

After a while, he said, "The report can end now."

He flattened out Chen Zhuo's schedule.

"The problem is not over."

In the afternoon, Chen Zhuo went to Trenton.

I brought a folder with a few words written on the cover.

Learning records (takeover version).

In a small room on the side of the chapel, the fan was blowing very slowly.

Abraham cleared the table, on which lay the community center's records for the past few weeks, Luke's new ledger, and a sharpened pencil.

Luke sat on the far side of the bench, his toes touching the ground.

He saw Chen Zhuo come in and glanced at his bag first.

"No questions today?"

Chen Zhuo said, "Yes."

Luke frowned.

"Then why not take it out?"

"Get to the point first."

Luke's face immediately fell.

He doesn't like to talk about things.

When an adult says these two words, there will usually be something the child doesn't want to hear.

Abraham also looked at Chen Zhuo.

Chen Zhuo placed the folder on the table.

I'm leaving Princeton in August.

Luke pressed his finger against the ledger.

"To Spain?"

"Um."

"Madrid?"

"Um."

Luke stared at him.

"how long?"

Chen Zhuo did not answer immediately.

He opened the folder.

The first document was a record intended for Abraham, the second was an explanation for the community center teacher, and the third was Lu...

This is a compilation of questions from the past few weeks.

"It's uncertain right now."

Luke's expression immediately changed.

"What does 'not sure' mean?"

"After Madrid, there may be other places we want to go," Chen Zhuo said. "It's not completely decided yet."

Luke's fingers gripped the edge of the ledger.

"What about once every five days?"

"Stop in August."

Luke immediately looked up.

"You wrote 'as before'."

"So I'll make some changes."

Luke's lips pressed into a thin line.

Abraham did not speak.

Chen Zhuo pushed the handover record to the center of the table.

"When I'm not around, you can take over the summer bridging program at the community center."

Luke remained silent.

Chen Zhuo continued, "Each practice sheet should be tucked into a folder. Don't crumple up the wrong questions. Circle the step you don't understand. Abraham will review it once a week, and the teachers at the community center will also review it."

Luke looked down at the ledger.

Aren't you going to watch?

"I'll see it when I get back."

"You just said you weren't sure."

"I'm not sure which day it will be, it's not that I won't come back."

Luke looked up.

"Will it still count after you come back?"

"Calculate."

Write it down.

Chen Zhuo nodded.

He picked up the sharpened pencil.

Luke immediately pulled the new ledger toward himself.

"Where should I write it?"

"Page 1"

Luke slowly opened the new ledger.

The first page also includes a schedule for summer bridging programs.

Below are a few lines written by Chen Zhuo previously.

Once every five days, as usual.

In special circumstances, the date may be moved up by one day.

The paper is quite old, having been turned many times by Luke, and the edges are slightly curled.

Chen Zhuo glanced at it.

Then write in the blank space below:

It will be paused in August, and will continue when it resumes.

The pencil marks fell.

Luke stared at that line.

No date.

"Because there is no date right now."

"Then you can't say it doesn't count."

"I won't tell."

"You can't wipe it either."

"Don't wipe it."


Chen Zhuo looked at Abraham.

Abraham said, "No, I won't wipe it."

Luke stared at that line of text for a long time.

It's as if they want to keep a close watch on it.

After a while, he closed the ledger.

"So, what's today's question?"

Chen Zhuo pulled out the third piece of paper.

"Let's do this today."

Luke glanced at it.

His face darkened again.

"Isn't this the same mistake we made last time?"

"Um."

"You're going to Madrid already, and you're still letting me get the questions wrong?"

Chen Zhuo said, "My going to Madrid won't affect your right or wrong."

Luke glared at him.

Abraham smiled and looked down beside him.

Chen Zhuo did not laugh.

He gave the first record to Abraham.

"This is the one you looked at."

Abraham picked it up, and on the first page at the top it said, “Start with the first step of learning.”

The following is a very detailed explanation.

Abraham read very slowly.

He put the paper down after reading to the end.

"I can understand it."

Chen Zhuo said, "The one at the community center is a bit shorter."

"What about this one?"

"This one is for you."

Abraham nodded and put the few pages into the envelope with the arrangements written on it.

Luke looked down at his problem, wrote two lines, and then looked up again.

"What are you going to talk about in Madrid?"

Chen Zhuo said, "Hodge."

Luke frowned.

"You figured that out yourself?"

"I took care of it."

"Can they understand it?"

Chen Zhuo paused for a moment.

"You should be able to understand."

Luke looked at the question paper and said in a low voice, "Then you should also ask them which step they don't understand."

Chen Zhuo glanced at him.

Abraham also looked up.

Luke didn't look at them, but simply pressed the pencil back onto the paper.

"Otherwise they'll hide."

The small room fell silent for a moment.

The fan was spinning slowly.

Chen Zhuo said, "That makes sense, but if nothing unexpected happens, they'll be the ones asking me."

Luke's lips twitched slightly, but he quickly suppressed it.

"Then I won't do this step."

He pushed the test paper over to me.

"Not behind, it's here."

Chen Zhuo looked down.

He didn't speak immediately.

First, I drew a small circle next to that step.

"Let's start here."

It was already dark when I got back to Princeton.

The lights in the Van En Lou lounge were still on.

There were still a few people in front of the whiteboard.

Some people were holding paper cups, others were holding pencils, gesturing towards the Madrid schedule.

"How far in advance did he go to queue for that event?"

"This isn't a movie theater."

"You can give it a try then."

"I think I should go in before the report."

"You also have to be able to get a seat in the previous game."

When Chen Zhuo pushed the door open and went in, several people turned around at the same time.

A doctoral student saw him and immediately hid the pencil in his hand behind his back.

Chen Zhuo looked at his line on the whiteboard, which had been circled three or four times.

"You can run fewer laps."

The doctoral student coughed lightly.

"It's useless, others will follow suit too."

Someone nearby chimed in, "We're just familiarizing ourselves with the terrain beforehand."

"Familiarize yourself with it on the whiteboard?"

"mentally."

Chen Zhuo put his bag on the chair and took a glass of water.

Woolley walked over from the printer, holding a new list in his hand.

"Trenton?"

"Um."

"Is everything arranged?"

"The rules have been changed."

Woolley didn't understand.

Chen Zhuo didn't explain either.

He walked up to the whiteboard and glanced at the Madrid schedule.

August 22nd.

Opening ceremony.

Below is a dense list of report sessions and names.

Chen Zhuo's report was heavily circled in pencil.

There was also a small asterisk drawn next to it.

I don't know who drew it.

Chen Zhuo looked at it for a while, then picked up another pencil from the table.

He didn't continue circling that line in the report.

Instead, he wrote a very small line of text in the empty space at the bottom right corner of the whiteboard.

Trenton, once earlier.

Woolley stood next to him, and when he saw the words, he paused for a moment.

"Is this also on the Madrid itinerary?"

Chen Zhuo put the pencil back.

"I'm also afraid I'll forget."

There was a moment of silence in the lounge.

Then someone chuckled softly.

Woolley looked at the line of small print, then at Madrid at the top of the whiteboard.

After a while, he said, "You're going to the International Congress of Mathematicians."

Chen Zhuo picked up his water glass.

"So we need to make arrangements for the elementary school students before we leave."

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