My IQ has been increasing year by year.

The old library of USTC.

This place is a bit far from the teaching area; it's an old gray building with ivy climbing its exterior walls, the leaves turning a deep red in autumn. Compared to the newly built, modern library, there aren't many people here.

The study rooms here don't have bright floor-to-ceiling windows, only tall, narrow wooden lattice windows.

The wooden floor was old and in disrepair, making a dull creak when stepped on, and the air was filled with the musty smell of old paper. This was the innermost window seat on the second floor.

Chen Zhuo is sitting here.

The table was an old-fashioned long wooden table with a glossy surface from years of wear.

In front of Chen Zhuo was a blank sheet of draft paper.

On the left side of the paper is a thick foreign language book without any Chinese characters.

The cover was a dark green hard copy with a row of Russian letters printed on it.

Landau's first of ten volumes, the first volume of "A Course in Theoretical Physics".

To the right of the paper was another book.

It's entirely in English, very thin, and the cover says "Basic Topology".

This is not physics; it is purely basic mathematics.

Chen Zhuo held a black fountain pen in his hand.

The first book he opened was the Russian version of theoretical physics.

Chen Zhuo's speed was not fast.

He looked at the complex physical model descriptions on the pages of the book.

After watching for a while, he stopped, his brows furrowing slightly.

He mentally rehearsed the physical hypothesis about particle motion from the book.

Halfway through the process, the logic of physics broke down.

Because in this multidimensional model, traditional calculus tools fail.

Conventional calculations can lead to an infinite loop.

Chen Zhuo closed the dark green Russian book and pushed it to the upper left corner of the table.

Then, he pulled over the thin English book "Basic Topology" on his right.

Turn it over.

He skipped the lengthy theorem proofs and went straight to the pages about manifolds and spatial mappings.

Chen Zhuo looked at the English mathematical definition.

The pen in his hand began to write on the draft paper.

He drew abstract geometric topological figures on the draft paper and wrote lines of pure algebraic symbols.

He used mathematical methods to build a completely new framework for the physics problem that had previously stumped him.

The pen tip scratches against the paper, making a soft rustling sound.

A dozen minutes later.

An extremely concise mathematical conversion formula appeared on the draft paper.

Chen Zhuo put down his pen.

He looked at the formula on the paper.

The chaos of the physical world is perfectly separated by these few lines of mathematical symbols.

Chen Zhuo closed the math book and put it back on the right.

He pulled the Russian version of theoretical physics back to his desk, turned to the page where he had gotten stuck, and, referring to the mathematical tools he had derived, re-examined the physical model. Everything then worked smoothly and logically.

Chen Zhuo's brows relaxed.

He didn't excitedly slam his fist on the table, nor did he feel that he had accomplished a remarkable interdisciplinary integration.

He simply flipped the draft paper over.

Continue reading the dark green book.

Around noon, he went downstairs, spent a few minutes eating a dry bread and drinking some cold water, and then returned to his seat.

Time slips away as the pages turn.

Those blank sheets of draft paper were covered with dense algebraic symbols and topological diagrams on both sides.

Quiet, monotonous, and pure.

5:30 p.m.

The afterglow of the setting sun bathed the old library's wooden floor in a deep orange-red hue.

Chen Zhuo glanced at the clock hanging not far away.

It's time to go have dinner.

Chen Zhu folded the draft paper and tucked it into the book, then stood up.

He hadn't finished reading that Russian theoretical physics book yet.

Chen Zhuo took the book and went to the foreign language book shelf next to him, where he picked out an original book on algebraic geometry.

The two large volumes felt heavy in my hands.

He went down the wooden stairs to the first floor to borrow books.

At this time, there were hardly any people in the library.

The borrowing station is a semi-circular wooden structure.

An old-fashioned, bulky computer was placed on the table.

Su Wei sat behind the computer.

She was wearing a dark long-sleeved plaid shirt with the cuffs rolled up.

She wasn't reading; she was holding a stack of returned library cards, sorting them by number.

This is her work-study job.

Billed by the hour.

She receives a subsidy of sixty yuan a month, which is enough for half a month's food expenses.

Chen Zhuo walked over and placed the two books on the table.

Su Wei heard the sound and looked up.

She saw Chen Zhuo.

He didn't show any surprise at running into a classmate, nor did he take the initiative to greet them.

She simply put down the card in her hand, reached out, and pulled the two books in front of her.

Open the back cover of the first book.

A small paper bag was pasted on the back cover, inside which was a cardboard library card.

Su Wei glanced at the cover.

Introduction to Algebraic Geometry, English version.

She took out the card, picked up the date stamp next to it, and pressed it onto the red inkpad.

The stamp is placed in the blank square of the card.

She then opened the second book.

The cover is dark green.

Su Wei's eyes lingered on the cover for less than half a second.

She recognized the cover.

Even though she didn't recognize a single word of the Russian text above.

But her brain, like a silent scanner, stored the book's shape, color, thickness, and even the number on the spine. She pulled out the library card and stamped it.

Cover both cards.

Su Wei inserted the card into the small wooden box next to the computer, which was used for archiving.

She pushed the two books back to Chen Zhuo with both hands.

"These two books are from the foreign language collection."

Su Wei spoke up.

The voice was soft and lacked intonation.

"The borrowing period is fifteen days."

"Return it before November 6th, or you'll be fined 20 cents for each day you're late."

Chen Zhuo held the book in his arms.

"Okay, time's up."

Chen Zhuo nodded.

"Thanks."

After saying that, he turned around and prepared to leave.

Su Wei sat there, watching Chen Zhuo turn around.

Her brain was working automatically in the back.

The green Russian book had the words "[…]" printed on its spine, indicating that this was the first volume.

She organizes hundreds or even thousands of books at this library every day.

Two weeks ago, on her first day of part-time work, while sorting returned books, she dealt with some old books with their call number tags detached. A dormant data point was activated.

"Why."

Su Wei spoke up and called out to Chen Zhuo.

Chen Zhuo stopped and turned to look at her.

Su Wei did not stand up from her seat; she continued to look at the library card sorting box in her hand, her hands never stopping.

"The second volume of that Russian book isn't on the bookshelf by the window on the second floor."

Su Wei's voice was flat, as if she were reading a dry instruction manual.

Chen Zhuo was taken aback.

He did glance at the bookshelf when he was looking for books on the second floor, and there were only Volume 1 and Volume 3 on it, with the middle section empty. He assumed it had been borrowed by someone else. Su Wei continued.

"The white call number label on the back of that book was missing. Last week, when I first took over this part-time warehouse management job, the student in charge of organizing didn't know which shelf to put it on, so they treated it as a problem book to be processed and just put it on top of the pile of old newspapers, waiting for the cataloging teacher to re-sign it."

She looked up and glanced at Chen Zhuo.

"That book is now on the third floor, at the end of the corridor, in the corner on the left where old copies of the People's Daily are piled up."

She provided extremely precise coordinates.

"It's under the bottom layer of newspaper, with a green cover. If you're looking for it, go there."

After reporting this string of data.

Su Wei lowered her head and continued to sort through the small cards in her hand.

She didn't ask Chen Zhuo if he could understand it, nor did she ask him why he wanted to find this set of books.

Chen Zhuo stood still.

After a brief moment of surprise, I couldn't help but lower my head and chuckle softly.

"If HKUST were to hold a memory competition, no one else would need to participate at all; your brain is practically cheating."

Chen Zhuo switched the book in his arms to the other hand and looked at Su Wei.

Su Wei hadn't expected him to respond like that.

She was used to being looked at like a monster by others because of her poor memory, but Chen Zhuo's slightly teasing tone made her pause for a moment. She didn't laugh, but silently put a card in her hand into the wooden box.

"On the left, on the bottom layer of newspaper."

Su Wei lowered her head and repeated the coordinates again.

"Okay, I'll go get it."

Chen Zhuo smiled and nodded.

Turn around and walk up the stairs to the third floor.

The third floor is an abandoned old reading room, which is usually deserted.

Chen Zhuo walked to the end of the corridor.

Sure enough, in the corner on the left, there was a stack of old newspapers about half a person's height, covered with a lot of dust.

Chen Zhuo squatted down and moved aside the bundles of old newspapers tied with rope.

Remove the bottom layer of newspaper.

A dark green hard copy sat quietly to one side.

The cover is printed with Russian text, and the spine has a Roman numeral II.

In good condition.

Chen Zhuo picked up the book and patted off the dust.

He took the book and went back downstairs.

Go back to the first floor to borrow books.

Chen Zhuo placed this second volume on the front.

Su Wei glanced at it but didn't say anything.

Open the back cover and take out the card.

Stamp the seal.

Push the book over.

"November 6th," Su Wei said.

Chen Zhuo carried three books and walked out of the old library.

The autumn evening breeze carried a slight chill, and the sun had completely set.

Chen Zhuo walked along the tree-lined path toward the dormitory building, and the streetlights along the way lit up one by one.

Back to Building 4.

The hallway was filled with the aroma of various dishes and the sounds of boys playing around.

Chen Zhuo went up to the second floor.

When passing by dormitory 216.

Light shone through the crack in the door.

The crisp sound of keyboard typing came from inside, mixed with Chu Ge's cursing.

"With this terrible internet speed and such a high packet loss rate, how can it even run...?"

Immediately following was a dull thud as someone turned over, and the bed frame creaked.

Then Lu Jia let out a suppressed sigh.

Chen Zhuo walked to dormitory 215 and pushed open the door.

Pushing open the door, I saw Wang Dayong sitting at the table, holding a large stainless steel bowl, slurping down instant noodles.

"You're back?"

Wang Dayong didn't even look up before slurping up a large mouthful of noodles.

"The cafeteria doesn't have any good food today, so I'll just have some boiled water to tide me over."

Chen Zhuo placed the three thick foreign language books in his hand flat on the table.

He turned his head and looked at the ridiculously large bowl in Wang Dayong's hand, the noodle soup inside almost overflowing.

"You call this just getting by?"

Chen Zhuo pulled out a chair, looked at Wang Dayong, and smiled.

"If you put a couple more handfuls of noodles in this bowl, the soup will overflow onto the table."

"Hey, it's so frustrating that I can eat whatever I want and not gain weight."

Wang Dayong grinned and took another big gulp of soup from the bowl.

Chen Zhuo smiled and shook his head, then sat down in the chair.

I opened the green Volume Two.