A young voice asked.
It was followed by the sound of water being poured from a thermos.
Then came a hoarse but relaxed voice that Li Jianming recognized. It was the Alchemist’s star pupil, Zhang Yuan.
"I slept for a full fourteen hours. I haven’t even slept that much in the last half-month combined."
Zhang Yuan held his cup and let out a long sigh.
"So what on earth happened last Friday?"
The young voice asked, curious.
"I heard from the team next door that your lab was making a lot of noise that afternoon. Did Dean Fang get mad because the model wasn’t progressing?"
Li Jianming froze.
He stood in the shadows of the hallway, holding his breath.
Inside the break room, Zhang Yuan took a sip of water.
"He didn’t get mad. The problem’s been solved."
Zhang Yuan’s voice was tinged with an awe he hadn’t yet recovered from.
"Solved?"
The young voice was astonished.
"How did you solve it? Weren’t the microcomputers unable to process that continuous partial differential equation?"
Zhang Yuan was silent for two seconds.
"We didn’t use a partial differential equation. All the equations on the blackboard were erased."
"Erased? Then how did you calculate the physical process?"
"We didn’t."
Zhang Yuan lowered his voice.
"We cut it off directly. That whole complex physical process in the middle, lasting just one-hundredth of a second, was completely discarded. Treated it like a black box."
Outside the door, Li Jianming heard the words "cut it off" and "black box," and the arm clutching the journal tightened.
As someone who worked in pure mathematics, he was extremely sensitive to those terms.
"What did you replace it with?"
The voice inside pressed.
"A discrete algebraic matrix,"
Zhang Yuan said.
"It was pure mathematical dimensional reduction. We added a non-linear compensation term to create a strong constraint. Then we used the initial kinetic energy at the tunnel entrance to force a match with the final potential energy and pressure work. We ignored how chaotic the air got in the middle. As long as the matrix absorbed the energy difference between the start and end, the books were balanced."
"Does that even work? Won’t the theoretical error diverge?"
"It doesn’t."
Zhang Yuan put down his cup, the bottom clinking softly against the table.
"The matrix absorbed the entire energy difference. The final convergence limit we derived was seventeen ten-thousandths."
Zhang Yuan’s tone was filled with genuine admiration.
"Exactly. It’s far below the red line for engineering tolerance. They used purely mathematical methods to brute-force their way out of a dead end in physics."
The break room fell silent.
In the hallway, Li Jianming also fell silent.
He leaned against the wall, his heart pounding, his temples throbbing.
A discrete algebraic matrix.
Cutting off the process.
A strong constraint with non-linear compensation.
This set of mathematical blitz tactics was identical to the one in that *Discrete Mathematics* paper.
’It’s definitely not a coincidence.’
Li Jianming took a breath.
’That C. Zhuo really did make a move.’
’The Alchemist didn’t lie to him half a month ago. Professor Chen really is in the Physics Department.’
’And he actually used this method to drag the Physics Department’s nearly-dead wind tunnel project back from the brink.’
The Alchemist’s project was saved.
’That means Old Chen is done with his work in the Physics Department.’
Li Jianming didn’t hesitate any longer. He turned and headed up the stairs toward the third-floor administrative corridor.
The sharp echoes of his leather shoes clacked against the floor.
Sunlight streamed into the bright, open hallway on the third floor of the Physics Building.
The Alchemist stood outside the conference room, holding a bound blue folder.
It was the freshly printed *Mid-term Review Report for the Train Wind Tunnel Model*.
Today, the Alchemist wore a crisp, light-gray short-sleeved shirt. His hair was combed back, the exhaustion from a few days ago was gone, and he stood ramrod straight with a look of complete composure.
He was chatting and laughing with a deputy director from the Science Department.
"Old Fang, when I saw your long face at the regular meeting last Thursday, the higher-ups were worried the project was falling behind. I never expected that after just one weekend, you’d slap such a beautiful report on the table."
The deputy director flipped through his copy, nodding repeatedly.
The Alchemist smiled and waved his hand. His tone was modest, but his eyes were full of pride.
"Well, that’s research for you. When you hit a dead end, you have to learn to be flexible. We introduced some mathematical tools and performed an algebraic dimensional reduction on the foundational logic. A light at the end of the tunnel, as they say."
"Indeed."
The deputy director closed the file.
"Once this report is submitted, the mid-term review will definitely be marked as ’Excellent.’ Let your students get a good two-day rest."
"They’ve earned it."
The Alchemist nodded with a smile.
The deputy director turned and went downstairs.
The Alchemist watched him go, feeling great. He turned to head back to his office.
Just as he turned, a figure emerged from around the corner of the hallway.
"Old Fang!"
The Alchemist looked closer.
It was Li Jianming, clutching that copy of *Discrete Mathematics* and sporting two huge dark circles under his eyes, striding toward him.
The usual pleasantries were gone from Li Jianming’s face, replaced by an irrepressible urgency, like a man who’d been thirsting in the desert for three days and had just spotted a well.
The Alchemist’s smile froze.
His old fox-like intuition told him this was trouble.
"Old Li."
The Alchemist composed his expression and walked forward, feigning surprise.
"What brings you here? You don’t look so good. No matter how tight your research schedule is, you have to remember to rest."
Li Jianming ignored the pleasantries.
He walked right up to the Alchemist and stared at the blue folder.
"Cut the crap."
Li Jianming got straight to the point.
"The wind tunnel model. Is the loop closed?"
The Alchemist’s hand holding the folder tightened.
’The whole Physics Building knows by now. There’s no hiding it.’
"Ah, yes. We’ve derived a solution."
The Alchemist nodded, his tone flat.
"We just sorted out the formulas over the weekend. We’re getting ready to submit the report."
Li Jianming stared into the Alchemist’s eyes.
"You cut it with an algebraic matrix? A convergence error of seventeen ten-thousandths?"
The Alchemist’s eyelid twitched.
’He really did his homework.’
"Yes."
The Alchemist didn’t deny it.
"Good. That’s great."
Li Jianming suddenly smiled.
He took a step forward and grabbed the Alchemist’s arm.
"Old Fang! Congratulations! Saving the project is wonderful news!"
Li Jianming spoke quickly, his grip so tight it hurt the Alchemist a little.
"Now that the work is done, isn’t it time to make good on the promise you made me a month ago?"
The Alchemist cursed inwardly.
’A month ago, just to get rid of him, I went along with it and invented a reclusive Professor Chen who does all his derivations in complete isolation.’

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