No need to work his way up the ladder, no need to wait in line.
Pierre was tearing up the rulebook.
A titan of his field was staking his entire academic career on this.
What else could Li Jianming say?
’How could I stop Chen Zhuo from inheriting the throne?’
"Professor Li."
Zhou Qiping spoke up at just the right moment.
"We’ve all seen Professor Pierre’s sincerity. This is a tremendous opportunity for Chen Zhuo and for Keda. Joint programs are something we’ve always encouraged."
Li Jianming didn’t look at Zhou Qiping.
He stood up, walked over to the water cooler, and filled a paper cup halfway with hot water.
He returned and placed the cup in front of Pierre.
Li Jianming sat down and played his final card.
"Legacy disciple... It’s a grand title, but he’s too pure right now. So pure he’s almost fragile."
Li Jianming stared at Pierre.
"If he leaves with you now, he will merely be your appendage. That isn’t fair to his future."
He glanced at Zhou Qiping, then back at Pierre.
"Let him finish his junior year here. Then next fall, when he’s a senior."
"You can take him."
Pierre’s brow furrowed.
"Li, this is a waste of his prime development period!"
"It’s not a waste."
A stubborn glint flashed in Li Jianming’s eyes.
"This year is a warm-up period."
"I want him to publish two papers in top-tier journals—either as the sole author or as your equal co-author—that are sufficient to establish his own name."
"I want him to first establish an unshakeable reputation in the international academic community."
"I want him to leave next year not as a child being led away,"
"but as an invited scholar descending upon Princeton."
"This extra year is for him to mature and solidify his foundation here at home."
"Only then, when he gets there, will no one dare treat him as your accessory."
Pierre stared at Li Jianming.
"And if I don’t agree?"
"Then you can try to persuade him."
Li Jianming leaned back on the sofa, looking completely relaxed.
"That kid, Chen Zhuo, is sentimental."
"What do you think will happen if you insist on taking him away by force right now?"
"Will he go with you?"
"Or will he politely refuse you, just to save me, his teacher, the trouble?"
Pierre didn’t answer. He was weighing his options.
"One year."
Pierre finally relented.
His voice was tinged with the weariness of compromise.
He looked at Li Jianming.
"Li, you’re more attentive than his own father."
Li Jianming froze for a second. He subconsciously reached for the teacup on the table, but his hand was shaking violently.
"I’m not being attentive."
He stared at the dregs of his long-cold tea, his voice hoarse.
"I’m afraid."
"I’m afraid the boy will fly too high, and there’ll be no one there to catch him if he falls."
"He’s my best student."
Li Jianming’s voice trembled slightly.
...
The hallway of the administration building.
Li Jianming walked slowly.
His leather shoes echoed in the empty space.
He felt tired.
It wasn’t the weariness from a sleepless night, but the collapse that follows intense strain.
He walked out the main entrance of the administration building.
The sun had set, leaving a faint orange glow on the horizon.
The evening breeze grew cooler. One by one, the streetlights flickered on, casting a dim, yellow light on the trees lining the road.
Someone was standing at the bottom of the steps, wearing a simple jacket and a backpack.
It was Chen Zhuo.
He was holding a paper bag.
When he saw Li Jianming, he started walking over.
Li Jianming stood frozen in place.
He watched the young man approach, his mind a chaotic mess. He didn’t know whether to bring up Professor Pierre first, or the plan to go to the United States for his senior year.
Chen Zhuo came to a stop in front of him.
"Teacher Li."
His voice was steady.
He held out the paper bag.
"They were just roasted at the shop by the back gate. They’re the perfect temperature right now. You just got back, so I figured you hadn’t had a chance to eat yet."
Li Jianming took the bag instinctively.
He could feel the warmth of a roasted sweet potato through the brown paper.
It was so warm.
"What are you doing here?"
"I just left Principal Zhou’s office a little while ago and saw that you were back."
Chen Zhuo’s tone was natural.
"So I thought I’d wait for you."
Li Jianming glanced down at the paper bag.
"That old foreigner in the library, did you meet him?"
His voice was a little dry.
"I did. We talked about a few formulas."
Chen Zhuo nodded.
"His name is Pierre."
Li Jianming stared into his eyes.
"From Princeton. A Fields Medal laureate."
"Mhm, I figured."
Chen Zhuo didn’t have much of a reaction.
"The mapping tool he provided was incredible. Not something an ordinary person could have created."
Li Jianming took a deep breath.
"He said he won’t be taking any more disciples."
"You would be his last one."
Chen Zhuo listened quietly.
"Principal Zhou agreed."
Li Jianming looked at a streetlight in the distance.
"I agreed, too."
Chen Zhuo said nothing.
"But I didn’t agree to let you go right now."
Li Jianming continued, his tone explanatory.
"I told them you’re only thirteen. I couldn’t rest easy."
"I secured another year for you."
"Senior year. Next fall. That’s when you’ll go to Princeton."
He stared at Chen Zhuo’s face, searching for a hint of surprise, disappointment, or complaint.
But Chen Zhuo was perfectly calm. His expression barely changed.
"Okay."
Chen Zhuo nodded.
Just one word.
Li Jianming was stunned.
"You’re not going to ask why?"
"This is Princeton we’re talking about! The last disciple of Pierre!"
"You wouldn’t have to grind through all these endless foundational courses here."
"You could leave right now. Why wait a year?"
"Don’t you feel like you’re losing out?"
Chen Zhuo smiled and hitched his backpack up on his shoulder.
"I’m not losing out."
He looked at Li Jianming, his tone gentle.
"Leaving early doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll get ahead faster."
"Besides, Zhang Qiang has his high school entrance exams next year."
"I just got him to understand the concepts in physics. If I leave now, he’ll probably bomb the exam."
Li Jianming found it incredible.
An invitation to Princeton.
The chance to inherit the mantle of a titan of mathematics.
In this boy’s eyes,
all of that was truly being weighed on the same scale as tutoring his childhood friend in physics.
"And besides, I’m not just staying at Keda for Zhang Qiang,"
Chen Zhuo continued.
Li Jianming looked at him.
"It means I get to attend your lectures for another year."
Chen Zhuo said with a smile.
The hand Li Jianming used to hold the paper bag trembled.
He looked at the young man.
His eyes were clear, without a hint of worldly cunning or the domineering arrogance so common in prodigies.
Li Jianming suddenly felt a sting in his nose.
He had argued for so long in that office.
Arguing for that one-year delay.
He had been afraid Chen Zhuo would think he was overstepping.
Afraid Chen Zhuo would feel he was holding him back.
But now,
with just a single sentence,
Chen Zhuo had smoothed away all his worries.
"Alright, enough with the sweet talk."
Li Jianming cleared his throat, trying to hide his emotions.
He shifted the paper bag to his other hand.
"Principal Zhou just agreed."
"For this year, you’re exempted from all your regular exams."
"You can use your time as you see fit."
"That’s great."
Chen Zhuo nodded.
"Saves me the trouble of taking all those tests."
"Don’t celebrate too early."
Li Jianming’s expression turned stern.
"You still have to study."
"You need to stay on top of the research direction Professor Pierre gave you. Don’t get so caught up in tutoring others that you neglect what’s important."
"I know."
Chen Zhuo replied.
The two walked slowly along the road, the streetlights stretching their shadows out long behind them.
"Which shop by the back gate did you get this sweet potato from?"
Li Jianming asked casually as he took a bite.
"Old Li’s. He cooked them perfectly today."
"It’s a little too sweet."
"I’ll ask him to pick a less sweet one for you next time."

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