It was either for health reasons or because he was involved in a classified project that prevented him from leaving the country.
Pierre continued to read.
He reached the response regarding the physical boundary.
"I must be frank. I cannot give you the answer you are looking for."
"This is merely a tool... a way to circumvent infinity."
"As for whether it hides a physical truth about the discontinuity of spacetime... that is beyond the scope of my knowledge."
"Mathematics can sometimes be deceptive... Without the support of rigorous physical arguments and experimental data, I would not recommend you treat this mathematical conclusion as a direct reflection of physical reality."
Pierre finished the last line.
"Zhuo Chen."
Pierre didn’t speak immediately.
He laid the paper flat on the coffee table, his fingers gently tracing its surface.
As a mathematician, Pierre knew all too well how desperate theorists in this day and age were to cross boundaries.
Mathematicians were dying to use their formulas to explain the origin of the universe, and physicists were itching to package mathematical tools as the will of God.
As long as the formulas checked out, who cared what the real world was actually like?
Publish the paper first, seize the theoretical high ground, and worry about the rest later.
Faced with a direct question from a physicist of Delian’s caliber, any young person eager for fame, or any professor anxious to establish their academic standing, would have absolutely seized the opportunity. They would have used this mathematical model to pontificate on the physical truth of the universe’s boundary.
But this person hadn’t.
He had retreated.
He had proactively drawn a clear line between mathematics and physics.
He had told Delian not to mistake his mathematical tool for the truth—it was just a tool.
Sincere.
Restrained.
It showed a return to simplicity, born from seeing through the fickleness of the academic world.
"Circumstances beyond my control..."
Pierre repeated the phrase softly.
He looked up at Delian.
Delian nodded.
"Now you see why I felt this wasn’t so simple."
Delian pointed at the three documents on the table.
"Keda’s administration personally intervened to block the foreign invitation, and his own reply to me reads, between the lines, with a complete lack of interest in fame, fortune, or interdisciplinary titles."
Delian leaned forward, looking at Pierre.
"Pierre, this is no ordinary scholar. I even suspect that Keda removed his name from the faculty list because he’s leading the charge on some top-secret project for Hua Country."
Delian spread his hands.
"You just said that in his submission to the *Mathematical Annals*, he threw down a three-sentence challenge and then ran for it, not even bothering to be the corresponding author. He dumped all the troublesome communication on that colleague of his named Li."
Delian smiled.
"Doesn’t that fit perfectly?"
"He has no time or energy to haggle with the editorial department. He doesn’t need the fame. He provides the core idea and lets his colleagues do the grunt work. That is exactly the style of a titan in the field."
Pierre stared at the black tea on the table, not offering a rebuttal.
Because the logic was just too tight.
’An old professor, hiding behind the scenes.’
’He’s working on a top-secret engineering project, so his mind is full of a brute-force, practical engineering mindset, and the mathematical model he wrote has the feel of heavy industry.’
’Because his status is so high, he’s blunt with the traditional school of analysis, issuing a direct challenge in just three sentences.’
’Because he has seen through the true nature of academia, he maintains an old-fashioned humility and restraint in front of a physicist.’
’Because his identity is special, Keda’s administration is guarding him closely, preventing anyone from Country M from contacting him.’
’Perfect.’
Pierre leaned back on the sofa and let out a long breath.
"Delian."
Pierre spoke, his voice tinged with a rare hint of emotion.
"If this is all true, then this Professor Chen is probably the most interesting person I’ve come across in years."
Pierre reached out and tapped the personal reply from Chen Zhuo.
"He knows where the boundaries of mathematics lie. Few people have that kind of self-control these days."
Delian picked up his long-cold coffee and took a large gulp.
"Indeed," Delian said.
"That’s why after I received this letter last year, I completely gave up on inviting him to Princeton. The man made himself so clear; if I continued to pester him through official channels, it would have been tactless."
The lounge fell silent again.
The sunlight from the window had shifted half an inch across the coffee table.
Pierre looked at the mathematical introduction and the email on the coffee table.
Suddenly, he smiled.
"In two months, I have a trip to Hua Country."
Pierre said casually.
"I’m going to Shanghai to attend that international topology seminar."
Delian glanced at him.
"You’re going to your conference. What’s that got to do with me?"
"Shanghai isn’t far from Huizhou, is it?"
Pierre turned his head to look out the window.
"The flight should be pretty quick, right?"
Delian thought for a moment.
"Why are you asking? You want to go to Keda?"
Pierre gathered the documents from the table and handed them back to Delian.
"That corresponding author, Jianming Li... I don’t plan on sending him the review feedback by email."
Pierre stood up and straightened the hem of his suit jacket.
"If I send an email, I’m sure I’ll get the same treatment you did—a bunch of bland, bureaucratic replies."
Delian frowned.
"Are you crazy? You plan to go find him directly? Keda’s administration won’t let you see him. I couldn’t even get in the door last year."
"I’m not going through Keda’s administration."
Pierre walked to the door of the lounge, then looked back at Delian with the mischievous grin of an old rascal.
"After the conference, I have a five-day personal vacation. I’ll buy a regular train ticket and go to Huizhou by myself."
Pierre pushed the door open.
"I won’t bring an assistant, and I won’t notify the authorities in Hua Country. I’ll just be an old foreign tourist in Hua Country, taking a casual stroll around their campus."
Pierre paused for a moment.
"I want to meet this interesting old fellow. Even if it’s just bumping into him on campus, finding an empty classroom, scribbling a couple of problems on the blackboard, and sharing a simple cup of black tea."
Pierre looked at Delian.
"It would be a real shame to only interact with an unreasonable old codger like him through cold, impersonal emails."
Delian sat on the sofa, watching as Pierre walked out and the door slowly closed.
He shook his head but didn’t try to stop him.
In truth, he was also quite curious to see what the reclusive old master who wrote "circumstances beyond my control" actually looked like.

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