The Reincarnated Science Whiz

Chapter 47: A Surprise

What! What did you say! After finishing uploading his thesis, Qin Yuanqing was in a great mood. He called Jing Tian so they could share their longing for each other—they hadn’t seen each other for several days, and he really missed her. As it turned out, his girlfriend gave him a huge surprise! “What should I do? My period hasn’t come this month. Could I be pregnant?” Her voice was tinged with panic and fear. Qin Yuanqing was also thrown into a panic. He thought back to their passionate encounter—they hadn’t used any protection, and both were in peak physical condition. Women at her age are most likely to get pregnant. If she really was pregnant, what on earth would they do? In his two lifetimes, Qin Yuanqing had never been a father. “What if I’m pregnant?” the young woman asked, overcome with dread. While the physical intimacy had been pleasurable, the mere thought of pregnancy filled her with such dread that she felt as if she were resigning herself to her fate: “If I’m pregnant, should I have an abortion?” Terminate it? No way! Qin Yuanqing flatly rejected the idea. What a joke—in his previous life, he’d longed every day to have a daughter, only to end up with nothing to show for it. Now that he had this chance in this life, there was no way he’d terminate it. “Sweetheart, calm down. Go buy a pregnancy test first and check,” Qin Yuanqing said cautiously. He couldn’t upset her right now—otherwise, it would surely backfire. A dozen or so minutes later, Jing Tian, relieved to have survived the ordeal, told him the test came back negative. It seemed she’d simply been too exhausted from recording songs these past few days, causing her period to be delayed. While Qin Yuanqing breathed a sigh of relief, he couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed. The young lady was so beautiful—dubbed the “flower of earthly splendor”—that to Qin Yuanqing, she even seemed more stunning than the hugely popular Liu Yufei. And in the entertainment industry, that cesspool of corruption, it was far too dangerous; who knew when he might end up being cuckolded? Just moments ago, he’d been thinking: if she were pregnant, he could use this opportunity to have the baby, get married, and tie her down—perhaps she’d even be forced to leave the entertainment industry and stay home to take care of her husband and children. Perfect! “My mom asked a couple of days ago when you’d be free so I could take you home for dinner,” Jing Tian said calmly. But he had no idea that this remark would make Qin Yuanqing even more nervous than before. Jing Tian’s mom was, after all, his future mother-in-law—this… meeting his future mother-in-law!? Qin Yuanqing swallowed hard; his throat felt like it was on fire. A mother-in-law is the most intimidating figure for a son-in-law. You can provoke anyone, but you absolutely cannot provoke your mother-in-law—otherwise, you’re in for a world of trouble. Just look at what happens in the years that follow: men who fail to get on the good side of their future mothers-in-law end up facing demands to buy a house before she’ll agree to the marriage. This has led to tragedy for countless men, who are forced to take on massive mortgages just to get married, becoming “mortgage slaves” for the rest of their lives. The “future mothers-in-law” demographic has undoubtedly made a massive contribution to Huaxia’s real estate market—one that’s almost on par with the education sector. “Honey, military training just ended, and classes start tomorrow—I really don’t have time for this,” Qin Yuanqing said, sounding a bit guilty. “How much time could a meal possibly take?” Jing Tian immediately protested, sounding displeased. “Do you not love me anymore? Do you look down on me because I’m older than you, and want to find someone younger at school?” “Hmph, if you want to say goodbye, go ahead. I’ll find someone nicer next time,” the young lady snorted coldly, still humming a tune. Qin Yuanqing was speechless. Why were all women like this? It was still 2009—how had the women’s rights movement become so popular already? Everyone talks about gender equality, but why did Qin Yuanqing feel that it shouldn’t be women shouting for it—it should be men doing the shouting? “Didn’t you want to see the National Day military parade last time? I told my mom, and she managed to get an extra ticket. Think carefully about whether you want to go!” the young woman said smugly. Do I want to see the National Day military parade? Yes! Take that! I’m impressed! Under the young lady’s mix of threats and enticements, Qin Yuanqing had no choice but to give in. Being a man is really tough! In the United States, it was broad daylight at that moment. At Princeton University, in a tranquil villa. An elderly white man with sparse white hair was holding a cup of coffee, sipping it leisurely, while his assistant reported on the work at his side: “Professor, *Mathematics Chronicles* called. They’d like to invite you to serve as a reviewer for an article titled *A Discussion of Mason’s Primes and a Proof of Zhou’s Conjecture*!” “Oh? Which of my old friends has made a breakthrough and proven Zhou’s Conjecture?” the elderly white man said with a smile, his expression indescribably kind. The assistant replied respectfully, “It’s not a famous mathematician. I hear it’s a paper written by a freshman at Huaxia Shuimu University, and it’s already passed the initial review.” “Nonsense! Zhou’s Conjecture is so difficult—how could a freshman possibly prove it? This is utter nonsense!” The elderly white man set down his coffee in displeasure. *Mathematics Chronicles* was going downhill fast; it hadn’t been that many years, yet they were letting just about any manuscript pass the initial review. Every year, countless people claim to have proven this conjecture or solved some mathematical problem, but without a doubt, the vast majority are self-proclaimed “scientists.” People like that are always rejected during the preliminary review because their work is riddled with flaws. For example, there was a professor from a so-called “people’s university” who was later nominated for the Ji Province Science and Technology Award, and one of his contributions was supposedly overturning Einstein’s theory of relativity, thereby clearing a huge obstacle for the healthy development of science. When the news broke, it caused a huge uproar. Only papers of a relatively high professional standard stand a chance of passing the initial review and being sent to leading experts in the field for peer review. The assistant shuddered—this elderly man was no ordinary person, but rather the mathematical luminary Viscount Pierre René Deligne, born in Brussels in 1944, a renowned Belgian mathematician. He completed his doctoral dissertation under the guidance of Grothendieck in 1968 and, at the age of 26 in 1970, became a professor at the Institut des Hautes Études Scientifiques (IHES) in France, where he carried out his work on Hodge theory and the Weyl conjecture. He was awarded the Fields Medal in 1978, the Crafoord Prize in 1988, and the Wolf Prize in 2008. In 2006, in recognition of Pierre-René Deligne’s contributions to mathematics, King Albert II of Belgium conferred upon him the title of Viscount. Since moving to the United States in 1984, Pierre René Deligne has been conducting mathematical research at the Institute for Advanced Study, Princeton. He also serves as a reviewer for several leading mathematics journals. “Professor, I’ve read that paper. The logic is rigorous and clear; there are no issues throughout the entire paper,” the assistant said cautiously. This assistant had completed his master’s degree at Princeton and had been working alongside Deligne ever since. “Oh?” Deligne looked curious; his assistant was certainly competent in mathematics—otherwise, he wouldn’t have kept him on as an assistant. Deligne had never had a particularly favorable impression of Huaxia, believing that the attitude of scholars there toward academic research was problematic—they dared to make all sorts of outlandish claims. However, since his assistant had reviewed the paper and couldn’t find any flaws, it meant the paper was indeed of high quality. Deligne said, “Bring me the paper; I’ll take a look!” As a man in his sixties, he naturally wouldn’t review manuscripts on a computer; he always had them printed out before examining them. The assistant quickly retrieved the printed paper and handed it to Deligne, breathing a sigh of relief—he had finally lived up to his senior colleague’s trust. Since leaving Princeton, *Mathematics Chronicles* had seen a steady decline in the number of leading experts serving as reviewers, causing its authority to diminish year by year—to the point where it was on the verge of being excluded from the “Big Four” mathematics journals. “A proof of the Zhou Conjecture?” Deligne furrowed his brow slightly. Over the past twenty years, he had read no fewer than twenty such papers, all of which had ultimately been refuted. Upon seeing this paper, Deligne instinctively felt a sense of unease. However, as a leading figure in the field of mathematics, once Deligne had agreed to review it, he wouldn’t simply toss the paper into the trash. Deligne adjusted his mindset and continued reading. “Huh? Interesting!” Deligne soon found his full attention absorbed by the paper. The wall clock ticked away steadily. As he reached the middle of the paper, Deligne’s brow began to furrow slightly; at times he nodded in approval, at others he frowned. His assistant quietly slipped out of the room, knowing that Deligne preferred absolute silence when reviewing papers and didn’t want to be disturbed or have his train of thought interrupted. The further he read, the slower Deligne turned the pages, and the more serious his expression became. Deligne stood up, walked to his study, picked up a sheet of scrap paper, and began working out the formulas to prove the thesis. The author’s line of reasoning was clear, the logic rigorous, and the methods employed so ingenious that he could find absolutely no fault with it. In fact, he couldn’t even find any areas for improvement. Moreover, unlike the papers by Huaxia mathematicians he had reviewed—which were often marred by clumsy English—this paper read as if it had been written by a Western mathematician; the entire text flowed seamlessly. It took Deligne a full five hours to read through the fifteen pages and examine the arguments before he finally put down his pen and exclaimed in amazement, “It’s hard to believe that such a rigorous paper could come from Huaxia—and from a freshman there, no less!” Deligne could hardly believe it—he couldn’t find a single flaw in the entire paper, and following the paper’s reasoning, he arrived at the exact same conclusion. Impressive! Truly impressive! Deligne opened the door to his study. Meeting his assistant’s eager gaze, he nodded and said, “I’ve read the paper—it’s flawless. This mathematician from Huaxia is truly remarkable. He has indeed proven the Zhou Conjecture. From now on, the Zhou Conjecture will no longer be a conjecture, but a theorem.” His assistant found it hard to believe; in the five years he’d been working with Deligne, this was the first time he’d ever heard Deligne speak so highly of a paper. He knew Deligne well and understood just how high his standards were. If a paper hadn’t been immediately shoved into the shredder, it meant Deligne couldn’t find any major flaws in it. The fact that he hadn’t simply tossed this paper into his hands was proof enough that its content had truly caught his attention! And now, Deligne is actually full of praise for this paper, which is extremely rare. But when he realized that the author of this paper was actually a freshman at Huaxia University, a pang of envy welled up in the assistant’s heart—it really is true that comparing oneself to others is the surest way to feel miserable.