In February in Huizhou, the sky was always overcast.
Wind funneled down the corridor of the prodigy class dormitory.
Fang Yuanming zipped up his overcoat and stopped in front of dorm room 215.
The door wasn’t shut tight, leaving a gap two fingers wide. The faint sound of metal clinking drifted out from within.
Fang Yuanming raised a hand and knocked twice.
"It’s not locked. Come in."
It was Chu Ge’s voice, muffled, as if he were biting down on something.
Fang Yuanming pushed the door open.
The lights were off in the dorm, so the room was a bit dim.
Wang Dayong was squatting on the floor, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, holding a yellow-handled Phillips screwdriver. An old computer case with its side panel removed sat on the floor, its fan caked with dust.
Chu Ge was sprawled casually on the opposite chair, straddling it backward.
He had the blue outer casing of an Ethernet cable clenched in his teeth, and his hands were busy yanking out the thin wires from inside. A messy pile of black power cords and a few mangled plastic connectors were scattered on the floor around his chair.
Hearing the door open, Chu Ge looked up.
When he saw who it was, he quickly spat the piece of cable casing into his hand and stood up.
"Teacher Fang, Happy New Year."
Chu Ge wiped his palms on the side of his jeans and tossed the scraps of wire in his hand into the trash.
Wang Dayong, who was still squatting, also stopped what he was doing.
He placed the screwdriver next to the computer case, stood up, and, with his hands hanging by his sides, called out a slightly restrained, "Teacher Fang."
Fang Yuanming nodded.
He stood at the doorway, not stepping inside.
His gaze swept across the room.
On Wang Dayong’s bed to the left, the quilt was already unrolled, with a few red mesh bags piled next to it.
The desk and chair by the window on the right were tidy, with a violin case resting on the desk.
In the empty space beneath the desk sat a dark blue canvas duffel bag, neatly placed and zipped up tight.
In the very center of the desk were two objects tightly wrapped in several layers of old newspaper.
"Didn’t Chen Zhuo come back with you?" Fang Yuanming asked.
"He got here a while ago."
Chu Ge turned and pointed to the dark blue canvas bag under the desk.
"He wasn’t here for long. Just dropped his bag and took off."
Fang Yuanming glanced at the newspaper-wrapped bundles on the desk.
"Where’d he go? He didn’t even unpack."
Chu Ge grinned.
"To the old library."
He took a step forward.
"He said the Russian math book he checked out before the break is due today. If he waited until tomorrow to return it, he’d have to pay a twenty-cent overdue fine for the day."
Chu Ge pointed toward the door.
"He came in, saw the date, grabbed the book, and ran."
Listening from the side, Wang Dayong let out a couple of simple-minded laughs and wiped his nose with the back of his dusty hand.
The corners of Fang Yuanming’s mouth turned up. He nodded.
"All right, you two carry on with your tidying."
He took a step back, took hold of the doorknob, and pulled the door closed for them.
Fang Yuanming slipped his hands back into his overcoat pockets and turned to go downstairs.
Outside the dormitory, the wind had picked up.
Fang Yuanming followed the tree-lined path toward the old library.
The trees on both sides of the path were bare, their leaves long gone, leaving only grayish-white trunks.
A few students pulling suitcases walked past him, their wheels making a monotonous RUMBLE RUMBLE on the concrete path.
A dozen or so wide steps led up to the old library’s entrance.
Fang Yuanming walked to the bottom of the steps and stopped.
He stood under a tree, looking at the two heavy, dark brown wooden doors.
A few minutes later.
The wooden door on the left was pushed open from the inside, its old hinges letting out a dull groan.
Chen Zhuo emerged from the shadows behind the door.
He was wearing a black down jacket, zipped all the way to the top, its raised collar hiding his chin.
Stepping out from the heated library, he was hit full in the face by the cold wind.
Chen Zhuo instinctively hunched his shoulders, shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, and headed down the steps.
Fang Yuanming stepped out from under the tree.
"Chen Zhuo."
The voice carried across the open space in front of the steps.
Chen Zhuo reached the bottom step, stopped, and turned his head.
Seeing Fang Yuanming, he changed course from his original path back to the dorm and walked over.
He drew closer.
Chen Zhuo pulled his right hand out of his pocket.
"Teacher Fang, Happy New Year."
Chen Zhuo’s voice was clear, his pace unhurried.
"Happy New Year."
Fang Yuanming looked at him.
"I was just at dorm 215 looking for you. Chu Ge said you came to return a book. All taken care of?"
"Mhm."
Chen Zhuo nodded.
He cupped his hands together, blew a soft puff of white air into them, and then rubbed them together.
"They stamped it. It wasn’t overdue. Saved twenty cents."
Fang Yuanming let out a laugh.
"Come on. Come with me to the Physics Building."
Fang Yuanming looked at Chen Zhuo.
"Alchemist is looking for you. The vice dean of the School of Physics."
Chen Zhuo’s hands, which he had just been warming up, stopped moving.
He looked at Fang Yuanming.
"Right now?"
"Right now."
"What happened?" Chen Zhuo asked.
Fang Yuanming turned and walked ahead.
"The Princeton Institute for Advanced Study. Professor Delian."
Fang Yuanming spoke in a casual tone as he walked.
"They called Dean Fang’s cell phone. Said you sent them an algebraic geometry model before the break."
A gust of wind blew past, sweeping a few withered leaves into the air.
"They want to invite you to New Jersey for an academic visit."
Having said his piece, Fang Yuanming slowed his pace to let Chen Zhuo catch up.
Chen Zhuo walked beside Fang Yuanming.
He looked down at the pavement, sidestepping a loose stone.
"Oh, that email."
Chen Zhuo’s tone was as flat as if he were talking about buying groceries.
"Before the New Year, I went to the internet cafe to help Chu Ge upload some code, and I logged into my email to take a look while I was at it."
Fang Yuanming stopped and turned to look at him.
"You saw it?"
"I saw it."
"So what did you think?" Fang Yuanming asked. "This is Princeton we’re talking about."
Chen Zhuo stuffed his hands back into his pockets.
"I already replied and rejected them."
Fang Yuanming was stunned.
He stared at Chen Zhuo, who was standing in the cold wind.
The eleven-year-old boy’s expression was placid. He didn’t look like he was joking.
"You rejected them?"
"Mhm."
Chen Zhuo nodded and continued walking.
Fang Yuanming hurried to catch up.
"Why."
"It’s too far," Chen Zhuo said, looking at the road ahead. "Going to New Jersey... the plane ticket is pretty expensive, and you have to deal with jet lag."
Fang Yuanming took a deep breath.
"They said in the email that as long as you agree, they’ll cover all the visa procedures and travel expenses."
Chen Zhuo shook his head.
"It’d be useless even if I went."
He walked with a steady gait, his voice carrying on the wind.
"What they asked about in the email was the significance of that Singularity’s boundary in the field of physics."
Chen Zhuo turned his head and glanced at Fang Yuanming.
"I don’t really understand physics."
"I haven’t even finished most of the physics curriculum. How would I know what that model represents in a state of collapse?"
Chen Zhuo looked away, his gaze falling on the fork in the road ahead.
"Before, when I had nothing better to do at school, I was reading their preprint and just felt that the calculus part they used to handle the continuous mapping was a bit redundant."
He explained it as if it were a simple homework problem.
"From a mathematical logic perspective, it wasn’t handled cleanly enough."
"So I spent some time substituting in a discrete algebraic geometry model and re-derived it. Much more harmonious."
Chen Zhuo breathed out a puff of white air.
"As for its physical applications, I honestly have no idea. If I went, I’d just be staring blankly at a bunch of physicists, and they’d be staring right back. It’d be pretty awkward."
Hearing this, Fang Yuanming was momentarily at a loss for words.
The two of them passed by a cafeteria.
A few students who had just bought food walked past, chatting and laughing as they carried their meals.
The aroma drifted through the air.
After the group of students had walked off.
Only then did Fang Yuanming speak.
"Vice Dean Alchemist is still waiting for you in his office. The email’s been printed out. It’s right there on his desk."
Fang Yuanming sighed.
"He’s probably got a whole speech prepared for you."
"It’s fine," Chen Zhuo said. "I’ll explain it clearly to him in a bit."
He thought for a moment, then added.
"My mom packed a lot of braised beef and smoked fish in my bag. I didn’t put it in the fridge. If I went abroad for an exchange, it would go bad sitting in the dorm."
Fang Yuanming looked at him.
The plane ticket was too expensive, he didn’t understand physics, and the braised beef would go bad.
These were all the reasons an eleven-year-old boy had for rejecting one of the world’s top academic institutions.
Just like when he had rejected Keda.
There was no trace of affectation.
Fang Yuanming shook his head and laughed silently.
"Fine."
Fang Yuanming quickened his pace.
"You can tell all that to Dean Fang yourself in a minute."
They arrived at the Physics Building.
It was a six-story building with a white-tiled exterior.
Fang Yuanming walked up the steps and pulled open the heavy glass doors.
As the doors opened, a blast of warm air from the hallway rushed out to meet them, chasing away most of the chill clinging to their bodies.
Chen Zhuo followed him inside.
He unzipped his down jacket partway, down to his chest, and let out a long breath.
On the walls of the first-floor lobby hung several blackboards posted with academic lecture posters.
Fang Yuanming didn’t linger, leading Chen Zhuo directly to the stairwell. The sound of their footsteps echoed in the empty space.
They reached the third floor.
The hallway was empty, the doors to the offices on both sides shut tight.
Fang Yuanming walked confidently to the end of the hall, clearly familiar with the way.
The second-to-last office.
The nameplate on the door was printed with the name Alchemist.
Fang Yuanming stopped before the door.
Chen Zhuo also stopped, positioning himself half a step behind Fang Yuanming.
Fang Yuanming raised his right hand, bent his index and middle fingers, and knocked twice on the deep red door.
About three or four seconds passed.
"Come in."
Fang Yuanming grasped the doorknob, pushed the door open, and tilted his head, clearing a path for Chen Zhuo.
The heating in the office was turned up high.
Alchemist sat behind a large desk.
He was wearing a thin black sweater, a pair of glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.
To the left on the desk was a dark gray thermos; to the right, a stack of documents.
In the very center of the desk lay two sheets of A4 paper, neatly placed, with English text printed on them.
Seeing the two of them enter.
Alchemist put down his pen.
"You’re here."
Alchemist pointed to the wooden chair across from his desk.
"Sit."
Chen Zhuo walked over.
He sat down in the chair, his hands resting naturally on his lap.
Fang Yuanming went to the water cooler in the corner, took a disposable paper cup, and filled it most of the way with hot water.
He walked over and placed the cup on the coffee table beside Chen Zhuo.
"Thank you, Teacher Fang," Chen Zhuo said.
Fang Yuanming took two steps back and leaned against a nearby filing cabinet, looking at Alchemist behind the desk.
Alchemist leaned forward slightly.
He reached out and tapped the two sheets of A4 paper on the desk with his index finger.
"Take a look at this."
Alchemist’s gaze fell on Chen Zhuo’s face.
Chen Zhuo lowered his head, his eyes sweeping over the letterhead on the paper.
Princeton Institute for Advanced Study.
He didn’t reach out to take the papers.
"I’ve already seen it."
Chen Zhuo looked up at Alchemist.
Alchemist pulled his hand back and leaned against the back of his chair.
"A confirmation letter from Professor Delian."
Alchemist’s voice was slow, his enunciation clear.
"They’re inviting you to New Jersey for an academic visit to discuss the problem of the physics Singularity."
The office fell silent.
The water cooler let out a soft gurgle as it heated up. Alchemist watched Chen Zhuo, waiting for his reaction.
Chen Zhuo picked up the paper cup from the coffee table and took a sip of hot water.
"Dean Fang."
Chen Zhuo looked at Alchemist, his tone gentle.
"A while ago, I already wrote back and declined."

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