「Three days later.」
Yan University.
Normally, the campus would be deserted at this time of year.
Exams were over, and most students had gone home for the New Year. The only ones left were mostly graduate students slaving away in the labs to gather data.
But today at Yan University, the flow of people on the main road from the East Gate to the Hero Communication Center was even denser than during the start of the semester.
Crowds poured onto campus. Their faces showed the fatigue of a long journey, but the excitement in their eyes was impossible to hide.
Professors and associate professors from the mathematics departments of major universities across Huaxia had arrived, many with their doctoral and master’s students in tow.
Some scholars, clearly having flown in from overseas for this, stood by the roadside checking maps on their phones, occasionally asking passersby for directions in broken Chinese.
"Excuse me... Ying Jie? Ying Jack? Where is it?"
Passing Yan University students stifled their laughter and pointed them in the right direction.
All of this was because...
The ’Seminar on the Complete Systematic Analysis of the Proof of Montgomery’s Conjecture on Association in the Interval |α|∈[0,4]’ was about to be held in the Sunshine Hall at Yan University’s Hero Communication Center.
The Sunshine Hall at the Hero Communication Center was Yan University’s main venue for its most prestigious academic events.
Historically, countless high-profile academic conferences had been held here, from special lectures by Nobel Prize laureates to workshops on the frontiers of international mathematics. This place had witnessed too many academic moments worthy of being written into textbooks.
And today, it was about to witness a new one.
The ability to put together a seminar of this scale from scratch in just three days was all thanks to Tian Gang.
This academician of the Huaxia Academy of Sciences, the head of the Beijing International Center for Mathematical Research, had been a key figure in Huaxia’s mathematical community for decades. His network and influence were difficult for outsiders to imagine.
A single phone call to the Huaxia Mathematical Society, and their name was added as a supporting organization.
An email was synced to the math.NT section of the arXiv preprint server and simultaneously sent out as a global announcement through the International Number Theory Society’s mailing list. Scholars in the field received the conference notice almost instantly.
As for the venue, equipment, simultaneous interpretation, online live-streaming platform... all of these logistical matters were handled by the administrative team at the Beijing International Center for Mathematical Research within three days.
As Tian Gang organized all this, he was utterly unfazed.
Because he understood it all too well.
He had been navigating the academic world for decades. What kind of storm hadn’t he seen?
He had experienced academic bullying since he was young, and he had fought his own battles against it.
He knew exactly what those people hiding in the shadows and posting Comments were thinking.
What they wanted wasn’t academic truth.
What they wanted was a vague "point of doubt."
As long as that point of doubt existed, they could bring it up repeatedly over casual conversations, discuss it endlessly on forums, and hint at it constantly in front of students.
Over time, "Li Dong’s paper has issues" would become a kind of unspoken consensus, requiring no evidence, only the phrase, "I heard someone questioned it back in the day."
This was the most disgusting part of academic bullying.
It doesn’t need to prove you’re wrong; it just needs to make enough people think you "might be wrong."
And what did these rats hiding in the darkness fear most?
Being exposed to the light, of course...
’Since you dare to question my student, fine. I’ll take those petty little schemes of yours, drag them out into the sunlight, and lay them bare one by one for the entire global mathematics community to see.’
’Thirteen points of contention?’
’Fine.’
’Today, we’ll address every single one of them publicly, leaving none behind.’
’Come on, then. Let’s see who can’t withstand the scrutiny.’
Penrose and Sarah were sitting in the front row of the Sunshine Hall.
Today, he would personally witness Li Dong take the stage and completely break down the paper that had stunned the entire mathematics community, from the first formula to the final conclusion, for all to see.
To be honest, he was looking forward to this seminar more than anyone else in the room.
The last time, at the International Congress of Mathematicians, he had seen Li Dong’s lecture in Shanghai. The style of proof, a perfect fusion of classical thinking and modern tools, had left even an old hand like him, who had been in analytic number theory for decades, thrilled with excitement.
Later, he had a personal chat with Li Dong at Yan University, which further confirmed his judgment: this young man’s way of thinking about mathematics was cut from the same cloth as the great mathematicians of the nineteenth century.
Every time Penrose heard Li Dong talk about mathematics, he had an almost religious experience.
It was like listening to a divine oracle.
"Professor! Professor!"
Sarah called out several times from beside him.
"Hm? What is it?"
Penrose finally snapped out of his daze.
Sarah pointed to a short distance away.
"Professor, look over there."
Penrose followed her finger with his eyes.
Amid the crowd, a foreign man of medium build was walking toward them.
The man was in his fifties, with brown hair and a standard social smile on his face.
Marvin Clark.
Penrose’s expression instantly soured.
As if he’d just swallowed a fly.
’Why is he here?’
Clark had already walked up to them. He glanced at Sarah beside Penrose.
"Arthur! Didn’t expect to run into you here."
"What, decided to come tour the East?"
Penrose gave him a cool glance.
"What’s it to you where I go?"
Clark’s smile remained completely unaffected. He lowered his voice.
"Arthur, I seem to recall the department has a rule: professors participating in academic activities outside the department, especially overseas, are required to submit an academic travel registration form to the faculty committee in advance, with a copy to the dean’s office."
"It’s in last year’s newly revised Faculty Handbook, Chapter Seven, Section Three. You should have received an email about it."
Penrose let out a cold laugh.
"I came to the Capital City to visit the Forbidden City and climb the Great Wall."
"There just happens to be a seminar on Montgomery’s Conjecture on Association, so I came to listen. Is there a problem with that?"
"Do I need to report to *your* faculty committee just to attend a public academic seminar?"
"Am I a professor at Princeton, or a prisoner of Princeton?"
His words were harsh, and a few nearby scholars who understood English instinctively glanced over.
Clark didn’t address the comment directly.
This was what he excelled at: deflecting the sharpest points, changing the subject, and then stabbing you in the back when you weren’t looking.
"Arthur, you seem to think very highly of this young man from the East."
Clark’s tone was laden with insinuation.
Penrose just grunted and ignored him.
But Clark forged ahead regardless.
"To be honest, even though this paper was published in *Annals*, I still think it has significant problems."
"Today, I also plan to properly ask this young man a few questions."
He enunciated the word "ask" with heavy emphasis.
By the time Clark finished his speech, he realized Penrose had already pulled Sarah away and was walking off.
Penrose didn’t look back.
He cursed inwardly.
’What a bloody moron.’
’You’ve never published a single proper paper in *Annals* in your entire life.’
’All you do is incremental research, just changing boundary conditions to churn out papers. Your total citations don’t even add up to the citations this preprint of Li Dong’s received in a single month.’
’What right do you have to criticize a piece of work at the *Annals* level?’
’Go back to your Faculty Politics. That’s what you’re actually good at.’
The more Penrose thought about it, the angrier he got. But after a few steps, he suddenly smiled.
Because he had suddenly figured something out.
’Clark didn’t come here just to "ask questions."’
’The man must have heard some rumors.’
’For example, the dual appointment application Penrose was planning, or the increasingly close academic connection between Penrose and this young Huaxia man.’
’Clark probably wanted to see for himself just who this young man was—the one who made Penrose willing to violate department procedures and secretly fly halfway across the world to meet.’
’If Li Dong bombed his talk today, Clark would go back with fresh ammunition.’
"See? Penrose ran off to Huaxia to chase after a star, and it turns out the kid can’t even explain his own paper."
’What a shame.’
Penrose smiled and shook his head.
’He knew Li Dong.’
’The things inside that young man’s head were enough to make Clark spend his entire life looking up in awe.’

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