My IQ has been increasing year by year.

Winters in Huizhou are always chilling and gloomy.

The wind blew through the gaps in the old campus of USTC, making the dry branches rustle.

The Taoist priest wrapped his black woolen overcoat tighter, carried a file folder, and walked quickly.

After walking through a large part of the campus, I arrived directly at a staff dormitory building.

This apartment building is quite old, and the stairwell is filled with the smell of fried meatballs.

The Taoist priest climbed up to the third floor in one breath, stood in front of the security door on the left, and before he could even catch his breath, he raised his hand and knocked heavily a few times.

"Brother, open the door."

The door opened.

Fang Yuanming was wearing a slightly worn gray wool sweater, with reading glasses perched on his nose, and holding a newly printed set of registration forms for new students staying on campus during the winter break. "Why did you come here at this hour?"

Fang Yuanming, somewhat puzzled, stepped aside and let the Taoist priest into the room.

"The water is boiling on the stove; pour it yourself."

The room was nicely heated, and a teapot sat on the coffee table, steaming. Next to it was a half-disassembled old radio, with several capacitors and a soldering iron scattered around. Fang Shi, without even changing out of his slippers, strode to the coffee table and immediately untied the file folder he was carrying.

He pulled out a few sheets of paper and laid them directly on the transparent cushion on the coffee table.

"Take a look at this first."

The sorcerer's voice was low, but he spoke quickly, revealing a clear sense of impatience.

Fang Yuanming glanced at his younger brother and slowly walked over.

On the coffee table, on top of everything, was a printed email written entirely in English, with traces of black toner from the registrar's office printer still visible in the header. Fang Yuanming leaned down and casually pushed his reading glasses up a little.

"What is this thing?"

He muttered something to himself, his gaze falling on the sender's name in the header.

Institute for Advanced Study, Princeton.

Derian.

Fang Yuanming, who had spent most of his life in academia, couldn't help but become serious when he saw the name and email address. He sat down next to the Taoist priest, picked up the paper, and read it word by word.

The living room fell silent, with only the ticking of the old-fashioned wall clock remaining.

The Taoist priest stood to the side, staring intently at Fang Yuanming's face, without uttering a word.

Fang Yuanming read very slowly.

The letter was long, containing not only polite formalities and invitations but also lengthy passages of technical jargon about discrete algebra and manifold boundaries. Derian's wording treated the recipient as an equal, extending a formal invitation for a visit in the latter half and earnestly inquiring about their views on physical singularity boundaries. Fang Yuanming finished reading, put down the letter, and picked up the paper below.

That was a screenshot of a student record from the USTC academic affairs system.

In the upper left corner of the screenshot is a short photo of a boy with short hair. Next to it, in the personal information section, several lines of text are clearly printed: Name: Chen Zhuo.

Department: School of Gifted Youngsters.

Date of birth: October 1992.

Fang Yuanming's gaze fell on the paper.

The living room was quiet, with only the parrot on the balcony occasionally flapping its wings.

Fang Yuanming put down the paper, took off his reading glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose with the back of his hand, and turned to look at the Taoist priest.

"Did this kid do this?"

The sorcerer nodded.

"It's been verified; it was sent from the school's internal email address."

The Taoist priest looked at the letter on the coffee table, a hint of impatience in his eyes.

"Derrian's team was stuck on renormalization for more than half a year. Chen Zhuo used a discrete algebra model to flatten the divergence problem." Fang Yuanming didn't reply. He reached for the purple clay teapot on the coffee table, poured two cups of hot water, and pushed one to Fang Shi.

"In my freshman year, I came across a preprint by a professor at Princeton."

Fang Yuanming held his water glass, staring at a tea leaf floating on the surface of the water.

"You're really brave."

Fang Yuanming leaned back on the sofa.

This old-school educator, who had worked in the admissions office of USTC for many years and had seen all sorts of child prodigies and eccentric geniuses, had an extremely complex expression on his face at this moment. "When I went to Shanghai to recruit him this summer, I knew this kid was a promising talent."

Fang Yuanming murmured to himself, as if he were reminiscing.

"He got perfect scores in both junior high school math and physics competitions, and his maturity is beyond that of a child. But that's the level of junior high school competitions. He's only a freshman in college, and he's only been in college for a few months. How dare he touch Princeton's physics preprints?"

Fang Yuanming paused for a moment, seemingly organizing his thoughts and trying to process the fact.

The Taoist priest picked up the cup on the coffee table and, without caring whether the water was cold or not, gulped down a large mouthful.

"I just checked his borrowing records at the old library. This kid has been quietly studying the Russian version of 'Fundamentals of Algebraic Topology' every day for the past half semester. He's not using conventional continuous calculus at all; he's using discrete algebra to bypass physical singularities."

The Taoist priest became more and more excited as he spoke, rubbing his hands together on his knees.

"Brother, do you understand what this means? An eleven-year-old child with this level of tricky ideas and thinking!"

The Taoist priest stood up and paced back and forth in the living room.

"I was in the office just now and used the landline to call his hometown in Zeyang, but no one answered."

The Taoist priest walked up to Fang Yuanming, his tone resolute.

"I can't wait any longer. I'm about to drive away now and I'll be there tonight. This is a prospect of this caliber, and we can't afford any mistakes. I have to see him immediately and get a clear picture of the situation." He said, reaching for the file folder on the coffee table.

Fang Yuanming took a sip of water, then tapped the cup on the coffee table, making a crisp sound.

"Where are you going?"

"Try to communicate with him." Fang Shi looked at his elder brother. "Princeton is waiting for a reply."

Fang Yuanming leaned back on the sofa, his voice softening, carrying a lingering sense of reminiscence.

"You've always been doing scientific research in the ivory tower, and you haven't had any in-depth interactions with the parents of these grassroots families."

The sorcerer was taken aback.

"This summer, when I went to Zeyang for the second time to handle his admission procedures, the neighborhood was called Sunshine Family Compound, which was an old building belonging to the local No. 1 Machinery Factory." Fang Yuanming closed his eyes, as if he had returned to that sweltering afternoon.

"I carried my bag up to the fourth floor. The stairwell was filled with the smells of cooking from every household. Chen Zhuo's family had stewed braised pork, and the aroma was wafting out through the cracks in the door," Fang Yuanming said with a smile.

"Do you know what I saw when I knocked on the door and went in?"

The sorcerer looked at him without saying a word.

"Chen Zhuo is playing video games in front of the TV in the living room. He's playing Contra, the one your grandson always wanted to play."

"The city's education bureau was planning to hold a city-wide commendation ceremony for him that week, publicizing this ten-year-old prodigy who got perfect scores in both subjects with great fanfare, and even giving him a bonus of 18,000 yuan. Local evening newspaper reporters were all staking out the entrance to his residential area."

"And what happened? His father, Chen Jianguo, was just an ordinary factory technician. He found an excuse to go to the Education Bureau and canceled the entire ceremony. He quietly took the money and didn't even let the reporters take a single picture." Fang Yuanming pointed to the teachers' dormitories outside the window where red lanterns were being hung.

"In broad daylight, their front door was locked from the inside, and the curtains were drawn tightly. The couple kept the boy at home playing games and watching TV, afraid that he would pick up even the slightest bit of the restlessness outside." As Fang Shi listened to these details, his brows gradually began to relax.

"When I went to complete the formalities, his father said something to me."

Fang Yuanming looked at the Taoist priest.

"He said that my son is a normal kid, and he should just stay home and enjoy a good braised pork and a nice summer vacation. What others say is their business. As parents, we have to keep a close eye on things for our child." The living room fell silent.

The steam from the water glass rose gently.

Fang Yuanming picked up his cup and took a sip of water, his gaze falling on the English email on the coffee table, his eyes flashing with an extremely complex light. "These parents are the most clear-headed and protective parents I've ever seen in all my years of admissions work. Their vigilance against fame and fortune is even more acute than that of us university professors. They are terrified that this child will become the next Shang Zhong." Fang Yuanming raised his head to meet the Fangshi's gaze.

"It's the 27th of the twelfth lunar month now, and in three days it will be Lunar New Year's Eve. Suddenly a university vice dean comes along and says that your son has solved a difficult problem and then an American is looking for him. Are they even going to be able to celebrate the New Year?" Fang Yuanming shook his head.

The Taoist priest sat back down on the sofa, his hands clasped together.

He was in his fifties or sixties. He went over Fang Yuanming's words in his mind, and the excitement he had felt at discovering an academic genius slowly cooled down. He looked at Chen Zhuo's photo on the coffee table.

The child in the photo has a calm look in his eyes, without the arrogance and pride that comes from being praised by those around him.

Yes, to be able to write a mathematical model that rejects all fantasies of continuity and honestly returns to the discrete grid, this child's temperament has long been integrated with that summer of eating braised pork behind closed doors. "How should we reply to the email?" Fang Shi's tone had completely calmed down. "Derian is still waiting for news."

"Don't you know how to do Tai Chi?"

Fang Yuanming picked up the English email and shook it gently.

"You should send an email to Princeton on behalf of the Foreign Affairs Office or the department, saying that the person is indeed from our school, but is not currently on campus, and that the message has been conveyed." Fang Yuanming put the email back into the file folder and slowly tied the white thread around the folder.

"As for anything else, don't mention a word about it. Don't mention that he's only eleven years old, don't mention that he's a freshman. What Princeton people want to guess is their business. Our own precious child doesn't need to be taken out and shown off all over the streets during the New Year."

The Taoist priest nodded, agreeing with this approach.

"What about Chen Zhuo's side? Should we just pretend nothing happened?"

"Of course not."

Fang Yuanming smiled, revealing the composure and expectation of an old-fashioned scholar.

"The Lunar New Year is almost here. No matter how big the physics singularity at Princeton is, it can't compare to how we Chinese eat our New Year's Eve dinner."

He pushed the file bag containing the documents in front of the sorcerer.

"Let's keep this to ourselves for now. No one should bother their family. Let's wait until after the Lantern Festival, when the second semester starts and he's back at school..." Fang Yuanming picked up his teacup and blew on the tea leaves.

"Then, in the name of the Physics Department, you can legitimately call him to your office, brew a pot of good tea, and we can sit down and talk to him slowly." Fang Shi picked up the file bag and stood up.

The sky outside had darkened, and a few snowflakes danced in the streetlights. The sound of someone chopping dumpling filling drifted from the stairwell, a dull yet vibrant murmur. "Okay, whatever you say."

The Taoist priest walked to the door and placed his hand on the handle of the security door.

"Let him have a peaceful meal of dumplings."

The Taoist priest walked to the door, opened the security door, and let the cold wind from the corridor rush in.

Fang Shi stepped one foot out the door, then stopped. He turned back, looked at Fang Yuanming sitting on the sofa, and casually added, "Go over early on New Year's Eve. Don't just stay home alone and eat whatever you need. Your sister-in-law froze the ribbonfish for you a while ago."

Fang Yuanming waved his hand.

"understood."

The door closed.

Fang Yuanming sat on the sofa, quietly listening to the sound of the Taoist priest's footsteps fading away as he went downstairs.

He put his reading glasses back on, picked up the list of new students staying on campus, looked at it for a while, but couldn't understand a single word.

He simply put the list down, stood up, and walked to the window.

Outside the window, several strings of firecrackers exploded in the distant residential area, their red flames flickering in the winter night.

Fang Yuanming recalled the first time he met Chen Zhuo last summer.

Calm, composed, yet with an understated arrogance that soars to the heavens.

He laughed silently.

"You brat."

Fang Yuanming muttered a curse under his breath as he looked out at the night, but his eyes were full of satisfaction.

"You dare to mess with Princeton? Let's see how you smooth things over when school starts."