My IQ has been increasing year by year.

The snow in New Jersey has finally stopped.

The corridors of the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton were quiet. The blinds in the offices were half-closed, and the snow outside reflected the blinding white light. Derian stood by the window, holding a cup of now-cold coffee. He didn't drink it, but just stared blankly at the brownish coffee in the cup. "David, have you checked the server logs?"

Derian didn't turn around, his voice filled with obvious anxiety.

David sat in front of the computer, his eyes bloodshot. He took his hands off the keyboard and rubbed his sore nose.

"I've checked three times, Professor. There was no interception, no packet loss. Our email system is functioning perfectly normally."

David sighed.

"Professor Chen just didn't reply."

It has been a full seven days since that earth-shattering email was sent.

Over those seven days, Derian and David practically overturned their work of the past six months, completely reconstructing the mapping matrix of discrete algebra based on that two-page PDF document. The deeper they delved into the derivation, the more they could sense the terrifyingly imaginative mathematical concepts of the person who left the name Zhuo Chen. It was like a specially made, extremely ingenious key.

When building their model, Derian's team encountered a divergent mathematical dead end. They could only use a cumbersome and tedious traditional renormalization method, forcibly adding several offsetting terms to fill the gap. This resulted in an unsightly patch in what was originally a very beautiful paper.

Zhuo Chen, however, keenly perceived the ugliness of this patch. He conveniently borrowed a trick from discrete algebra, bypassing the pitfall directly and providing a clean and efficient shortcut. It was an untrodden shortcut, crisp, clean, and without the slightest hesitation.

But the more this happens, the more agonizing the wait for Xing's silence becomes.

"Maybe he went on vacation."

David tried to give a reasonable explanation.

"It's the eve of the Chinese Lunar New Year now. I heard that the whole of China shuts down during this festival, as everyone is busy reuniting with their families." "Science doesn't stop because of holidays."

Derian placed the coffee cup on the window and turned around.

"When your mind is filled with solutions to multidimensional manifolds, you can't sit at the table and eat dumplings peacefully, David. That goes against a scholar's instinct." Derian took a few steps in the office and stopped in front of his desk.

He couldn't wait any longer.

The email's domain name was clearly that of the University of Science and Technology of China (USTC). Within this circle, the network of top scholars is actually quite small. "Bring me the time zone table," Derian said.

David glanced at his watch.

"Professor, it's around 10 a.m. in Beijing right now."

"very good."

Derian pulled out a chair, sat down, and opened the address book on the table.

He was looking for a number.

Fang Shi, the vice dean of the School of Physics at Huazhong University of Science and Technology, had crossed paths with him several years ago at an international condensed matter physics conference, and the two had maintained intermittent email contact. Derian picked up the phone and dialed a long international number.

A long, drawn-out beeping sound came through the receiver.

After four rings, the call was answered.

"Feed? Who?"

A deep, middle-aged male voice came from the other end of the phone, with a strong northern accent.

"Fang, it's me, Derian from Princeton."

Huizhou, Huazhong University of Science and Technology.

The Taoist priest sat behind his desk, holding a white porcelain teacup in his hand. He had just blown away the tea leaves and was about to take a sip.

He paused upon hearing the voice on the phone, then put down his teacup.

"Professor Derian? Hello, what a rare visitor! What brings you to my phone?"

The sorcerer switched to fluent English, his tone tinged with surprise and politeness.

"Fang, time is precious, so I won't beat around the bush."

Derian spoke quickly, with an undisguised urgency.

"I need you to help me find someone, a professor at your school."

The Taoist priest leaned back in his chair and picked up his pen.

"Which professor are you referring to? The one who ran into trouble as a visiting scholar in the United States?"

"No, he's in the country, Zhuo Chen, I'm not sure of the exact Chinese characters."

Derian paused, seemingly considering his words.

"Fang, your USTC is keeping things very secret. This Professor Chen is extremely, extremely, extremely talented in the intersection of algebraic geometry and theoretical physics." Fang Shi frowned.

"He solved a topological singularity problem that had puzzled us for a long time."

Even through the unclear transoceanic line, Derian's voice still conveyed a heartfelt admiration.

"That's a work of art. I emailed him inviting him to Princeton to visit and discuss any future developments, but he hasn't replied. I'm worried it might be a network issue, so I'm taking the liberty of bothering you. Please convey my regards and make sure he checks his email."

The Taoist priest tightened his grip on the pen slightly.

Derian from Princeton described a USTC student as brilliant and an artist.

If this is true, it would be an absolutely explosive piece of news for USTC and even for China.

But after going through his mind, he realized that none of the senior colleagues in the physics and mathematics departments were named Chen Zhuo.

"Derrian, are you sure you spelled it correctly? CHEN, ZHUO?"

The sorcerer wrote down the pinyin on the paper.

"Confirmed, the email address ends with your school's name, Fang. Thank you."

After hanging up the phone, Fang Shi stared at the pinyin on the paper and remained silent for a while.

He stood up, walked to the office door, and opened it.

"Xiao Chu, come here for a second."

The academic assistant, Xiao Chu, quickly put down the documents in her hand and ran over.

"Dean Fang, what's wrong?"

"Go and check someone in the faculty and staff system."

The sorcerer handed over the note.

"Chen Zhuo, or a homophone, check the math or physics departments. Are there any newly recruited top-tier returnees from overseas, or any low-profile or retired professors?" Xiao Chu took the note, quickly walked to the computer in the outer room, opened the school's academic affairs management system, and entered the faculty and staff archives.

I typed a few keys.

Page refreshed.

"Dean Fang."

Xiao Chu looked at the screen.

"There's a guy in the physics department named Chen Yuanwen who does solid-state physics. There's no professor in the mathematics department with the surname Chen. Among all the faculty and staff in the school, the only one who matches this pinyin is an old boiler operator in the logistics department named Chen Dazhuo." Fang Shi stood behind Xiao Chu, his brows furrowed into a knot.

It's obvious that someone who runs a boiler can't solve Princeton's equations.

"Could he be a visiting professor?"

The alchemist pondered.

"Check the postdoctoral research station and doctoral student list; perhaps it's a gifted student who borrowed their supervisor's ideas?"

Xiao Chu nodded and switched databases.

Postdoctoral researcher, zero records.

PhD student, zero records.

The list of master's students included two named Chen Zhuo, but one was from the Chemistry Department and the other from Polymer Materials, which had absolutely nothing to do with theoretical physics. The office fell silent.

"Dean Fang, is there a mistake on the American side?" Xiao Chu asked tentatively. "Could it be someone from another school who just happened to use our intranet email?" "Drian wouldn't joke about something like this."

The sorcerer's expression was serious.

"The fact that he made a special overseas call to find this person shows that he was impressed by this person's skill level, and the email address suffix cannot be faked."

Xiao Chu scratched his head.

"Then... only the undergraduate system remains, but how can undergraduates be...?"

Undergraduates optimizing Princeton's model?

This is like a primary school student who has just learned that one plus one equals two, and then accidentally takes Goldbach's conjecture a big step forward.

"check."

The sorcerer uttered a single word, and no matter how absurd it seemed, the process of elimination led to just this one option.

Xiao Chu sighed and opened the undergraduate student registration management system.

Enter the pinyin.

Press the Enter key.

The old computer hard drive emitted a series of clicking sounds as it read and wrote.

Two seconds later, the screen went completely white, and then a data entry appeared.

This is the only one.

Xiao Chu's gaze remained fixed on the screen, his hand still on the mouse. He didn't speak.

The Taoist priest, standing behind, also saw the message.

Name: Chen Zhuo.

Department: School of Gifted Youngsters (Interdisciplinary Program, Class of 02).

Date of birth: October 1992.

Next to it, a passport photo with a blue background slowly loads.

The photo showed a calm-looking boy wearing a shirt with a slightly oversized collar and very short hair; he looked like a middle school student who hadn't fully grown up yet. A deathly silence fell over the office.

The humming of the case fans sounded unusually jarring at that moment.

Xiao Chu opened her mouth, feeling a dryness in her throat.

He turned to look at the sorcerer and found that this usually taciturn vice dean was staring intently at the screen, his facial muscles even twitching slightly. Born in 1992.

I'll be eleven years old after this New Year.

I just enrolled two weeks ago and took my first semester's final exams.

In the mage's mind, Derian's exact words from the phone call kept replaying.

"Extremely impressive"

"artwork"

An eleven-year-old child, across the Pacific Ocean, handed a key to unravel a deadlock to a Princeton professor with just two pages of paper? "Dean Fang..."

Xiao Chu's voice trembled slightly as he pointed at the screen.

"Is it...him?"

The sorcerer did not answer.

He reached out and gripped the back of the chair, taking a deep breath.

He taught his whole life and saw many child prodigies; the gifted youth program was never short of monsters.

But he had never seen such a monster that completely defied common sense.

"Pull up his file." Fang Shi's voice was a little hoarse. "Look at his family contact information. He's on winter break now, so he must be home." Xiao Chu frantically clicked the mouse and opened Chen Zhuo's detailed file.

Home address: Sunshine Family Compound, No.1 Machinery Factory, Zeyang City, Jiangsu Province.

"Call up."

The sorcerer answered without hesitation.

"Use my landline to call."

At the same time.

Zeyang, Chengnan Agricultural Wholesale Market.

As Lunar New Year's Eve approached, there wasn't even a place to stand in the market.

The air was filled with the pungent smell of raw pork, the smoky aroma of fried ribbonfish, and the smell of smoke.

Several large loudspeakers hanging high overhead were blasting Andy Lau's "Gong Xi Fa Cai" on a loop at breakneck speed.

In front of a stall selling Spring Festival couplets, red paper was spread all over the ground and stepped on by people.

Liu Xiuying was standing in front of a meat stall.

On the butcher's counter sat half a freshly slaughtered pig. The owner was a burly man, shirtless and wearing a greasy apron, holding a boning knife. "Boss, how much for this hind leg?"

Liu Xiuying scrutinized a piece of meat with skin on.

"Twelve a pound, sister, look at this fat, look at this color, it was just brought back from the countryside this morning."

The boss tapped the cutting board with the back of his knife.

"That's too expensive. The store over there only costs 11.5 yuan."

Liu Xiuying threw the meat back onto the cutting board without any hesitation.

"And your meat feels all wet and squishy, ​​it must have been injected with water, right?"

"Oh my god, sister! You're really wronging me!"

The boss got impatient and pointed the tip of his knife at the meat.

"If even a single drop of water is added, you'll ruin my stall! Eleven yuan and eighty cents, that's the lowest I can go. It's not like you've never bought from me before." "Eleven yuan, I'll take three jin. If not, I'll go buy some from the front."

Liu Xiuying made a move to leave.

The boss gritted his teeth and waved his hand.

"Come back, come back! Eleven yuan it is, it's the Lunar New Year, it's just a small opening!"

Liu Xiuying showed a satisfied expression and directed the boss to cut the meat.

During this sweet and exhilarating bargaining session, Chen Zhuo stood just half a step behind Liu Xiuying.

He was wearing a dark blue thick cotton coat and a woolen scarf knitted by Liu Xiuying around his neck.

He wore cotton gloves on both hands, carrying a net bag in his left hand containing two large cabbages and a few scallions, and a red plastic bag in his right hand containing two live crucian carp. The crucian carp were very resilient, occasionally thrashing about in the bag, splashing out a few drops of cold water.

Chen Zhuo took half a step back, avoiding a dark red puddle on the ground.

He stood there quietly, looking at the crowded people around him and listening to the deafening New Year's songs blaring from the loudspeakers.

He's just a pitiful ten-year-old kid who's been dragged here by his mom to do hard labor.

The only tasks were to carry the groceries carefully and not get their clothes dirty.

The boss put the chopped pork into a bag and threw it onto the electronic scale.

"Thirty-four yuan and one mao."

The boss quickly recited the numbers.

Liu Xiuying took out an old wallet, counted out thirty-four yuan and handed it over, casually wiping away the one-cent coin. The shopkeeper didn't mind and stuffed the money into his pocket.

"Carry it."

Liu Xiuying handed the bag containing three catties of pork to Chen Zhuo.

Chen Zhuo reached out and took the bag, gathering the bag and cabbage together in one hand, when he felt his arm suddenly sink down.

"Mom, the fish bag is leaking."

Chen Zhuo looked down and saw that a few drops of water had already dripped onto the surface of his shoes.

"It's okay, I'll be back soon."

Liu Xiuying was in a great mood after buying cheap meat. She turned her head and looked at the old man selling roasted sweet potatoes next to her.

The tin bucket was filled with the enticing aroma of roasted sweet potatoes.

Liu Xiuying walked over and picked out a roasted sweet potato that was neither too big nor too small.

"How much?"

"One dollar and fifty cents."

Liu Xiuying paid the money, took the roasted sweet potato wrapped in old newspaper, and stuffed it directly into Chen Zhuo's hand.

"Eat them while they're hot, fresh out of the oven. Take off your gloves so the sweet potatoes don't get on them; you can't wash them off."

Chen Zhuo transferred all the vegetables in his hands to his left hand, took off his gloves with his right hand, and took the slightly hot roasted sweet potato.

He peeled off the charred outer skin, revealing the golden sweet potato inside, steaming hot.

He took a bite.

It's very sweet, with a slightly smoky, woody flavor.

"Sooyoung! Buying New Year's goods?"

A middle-aged woman carrying a vegetable basket walked over.

"Sister Zhang, I just bought some meat. You've bought quite a lot."

Liu Xiuying greeted him with a smile.

Aunt Zhang's gaze fell on Chen Zhuo, noticing that his hands were full of things, and he was looking down at a sweet potato.

"Oh my, Xiao Zhuo is so sensible now, he even knows how to help his mother carry the groceries. He's the prodigy from our No. 1 High School, he got into that special program for gifted children, I thought we'd have to worship him when we got home." Chen Zhuo swallowed the sweet potato in his mouth, looked up, and smiled gently at Aunt Zhang.

Hello, Aunt Zhang.

Chen Zhuo tossed the heavy bag in his left hand.

"We can't afford it, so we might as well use our cheap labor at home."

Aunt Zhang was amused and burst into laughter.

Liu Xiuying glared at Chen Zhuo and patted him on the shoulder.

"Eat your sweet potato and stop talking nonsense."

Chen Zhuo turned his head away indifferently and continued to eat his sweet potato.

The surrounding area was bustling with people, and the cries of vendors rose and fell.

At this moment.

Zeyang, Sunshine Family Compound of the First Machinery Factory.

Room 301, Unit 2, Building 3.

The room was empty.

Chen Jianguo went to the factory for some business, while Liu Xiuying and Chen Zhuo were at the vegetable market.

On the cabinet against the wall in the living room, there was a floral tablecloth that had been washed until it was slightly faded.

There was a machine on the side.

"Ring ring ring one"

The sharp ringing of the telephone suddenly rang out in the empty living room without warning.

The bell was so loud that it even penetrated the security door and echoed in the quiet hallway.

"Ring ring ring one"

The phone kept ringing.

In the office of the vice dean of the School of Physics at the University of Science and Technology of China, in the remote Huizhou.

The sorcerer gripped the receiver tightly, his palms sweating profusely.

As he listened to the monotonous beeping sound coming from the receiver, his heart began to race involuntarily.

Xiao Chu stood to the side, not daring to breathe.

Answer the phone.

The sorcerer muttered to himself in a low voice.

In the living room of the Sunshine Family Compound.

The second hand of the wall clock ticked away.

A cold wind blew in from outside, making the window, which wasn't closed properly, vibrate repeatedly.

"Ring ring ring one"

The phone rang for the tenth time.

Then, a soft clicking sound was heard.

A cold female voice came through the receiver on the alchemist's end.

"Sorry, the number you dialed is temporarily unavailable. Please try again later..."

The Taoist priest slowly put down the receiver.

Looking at the boy's photo on the computer screen, he suddenly felt that it all seemed as absurd as a dream.

Zeyang Vegetable Market.

After finishing the last bite of sweet potato, Chen Zhuo threw the peel into the trash can by the roadside.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and put his cotton gloves back on.

"Mom, did you buy too few scallions? We won't have enough to make dumplings tonight."

"That's enough. There are still two on the balcony at home. Let's go buy some peanuts and melon seeds, then we'll go home."

Liu Xiuying led the way, pushing through the crowd.

Chen Zhuo followed slowly behind, carrying a live fish that was still dripping with water and a heavy cabbage.