Chapter 178: The Goldbach Conjecture?

In the dining hall, the elderly academic didn't stay long; he instructed Zhao Zhenglai to look after Xu Qingzhou, then hurried off.

Xu Xu Qingzhou watched the retreating back of Academician Xu Xu Shihui and whistled: "Is Academician Xu always this busy?"

"My teacher just can't sit still," Zhao Zhenglai said with a smile, a touch of awe in his voice. "In my memory, he sleeps only five hours a day, devoting nearly all his energy to mathematics."

Xu Xu Qingzhou felt a similar admiration—older-generation researchers had endured far greater hardship than they had; back then, there were no supercomputers to provide computational power; every project relied entirely on manual calculation.

Zhao Zhenglai turned his gaze back, chewing his sandwich as he asked with a grin: "Younger brother, how did you sleep last night?"

"Fine," Xu Xu Qingzhou nodded. He'd slept straight through till dawn, but due to jet lag, he still felt light-headed, like he'd nearly dropped dead.

"Too bad you weren't there—last night there were several gorgeous girls," Zhao Zhenglai said, savoring the memory.

The two finished breakfast quickly and headed toward the lecture hall.

Read! {

But by graduate school, Chinese students start to struggle, because this stage demands flexible thinking patterns—exactly their weak point.

Besides those specifically invited, many other scholars came on their own initiative.

As he spoke, he occasionally wrote a few equations on the blackboard.

Last night he'd carefully checked the official website: over seven days, there were two keynote talks, both scheduled for the final two days, and nineteen invited talks—he was one of them.

This damn thing wasn't just high-difficulty—it was hell! Zhao Zhenglai's expression twisted; after a long pause, he spat out two words: "Amazing!"

Xu Xu Qingzhou sighed: "It's tough. I'm stuck right now."

Only then did Xu Xu Qingzhou notice the red marks on Zhao Sheng's neck—he could imagine how wild last night had been.

After walking about fifteen minutes, Zhao Zhenglai pointed to an ancient building ahead: "The lecture is being held in that building."

Phew, good thing I didn't go.

He's only a freshman—does he have to be this insane?

Since it was the first day, many scholars were still preparing blackboards and hanging posters; Xu Xu Qingzhou wasn't in a rush. He went to the service desk for a cup of coffee, sat on the balcony to catch the breeze, and scrolled through messages on his phone.

"I'm also going to listen carefully," Xu Xu Qingzhou said, intrigued. The proof of the Twin Prime Conjecture does involve L-functions, mainly used to refine and supplement sieve methods.

As he reflected, he warned himself: over the next few days, he had to be careful—if he got bitten again, he'd be finished when he got back.

It was lively, like wandering a night market.

"Sss— you're working on the Twin Prime Conjecture?" Zhao Zhenglai stared at Xu Qingzhou in shock.

His private messages were from Song Yao and Guo Zi; in the group, Xu Xu Zhengyang and the others were asking for updates. He briefly replied to Xu Xu Zhengyang and the two others, then opened his chat with Song Yao.

There was a group studying divisibility and congruence theory—five or six people clustered around the blackboard, talking over each other. The session leader was a middle-aged Russian man, explaining in awkward English to those around him.

!.

In one large classroom, Xu Xu Qingzhou spotted Academician Xu and the others; a complex system's structural diagram was being displayed on the screen ahead, everyone utterly focused.

Walking through the Jianqiao campus, you could clearly feel a different academic atmosphere from China's—especially among the students passing by, who radiated an effortless vitality. Wow, when did Song Yao have so many photos?

Xu Xu Qingzhou smiled: "Yeah, challenging a high-difficulty problem."

This doesn't mean Chinese students are incapable—it's just that they need time to break free from the rigid thinking patterns instilled by exam-oriented education.

More people had gathered now, making it even livelier.

There were also various small seminars and thematic exchange sessions.

Hmm, I don't think I've been here before.

Xu Xu Qingzhou glanced at the messages, closed the app, sipped his coffee, and scrolled through his photo album.

Xu Xu Qingzhou had served as a lecturer both in China and abroad; he'd noticed a pattern: in undergraduate studies, Chinese students had no disadvantage—in fact, their foundational knowledge was solid and extensive.

"How's the progress?" Zhao Zhenglai asked, curious again. This younger brother was brilliant—he'd proven Cramér's Theorem—but that didn't guarantee he could do anything else. After all, many breakthroughs came from sudden flashes of insight.

"Normal," Zhao Zhenglai said, unsurprised. Too many giants were working on it—like the Fields Medalist Chinese mathematician Terence Tao, and Andrew Wiles, who proved Fermat's Last Theorem. Still, no one had succeeded.

Any attendee could freely display their work on blackboards in empty classrooms, hallways, or lobbies; to attract attention, many scholars hung up promotional posters.

In recent years, China has also made progress—like Peking University's undergraduate research system, Tsinghua's "SRT Program," and other universities launching similar initiatives to motivate students.

His WeChat messages weren't many; the lab's experiments were temporarily paused, with only the final 2.0mm crystal test left—he'd resume after returning.

As they walked, Zhao Zhenglai asked: "Younger brother, now that you've proven Cramér's Theorem, are you starting a new research project?"

Xu Xu Qingzhou said: "I'm working on the Twin Prime Conjecture."

In comparison, universities like Jianqiao had more flexible, diverse systems and placed special emphasis on personalized development and innovation.

He said: "This morning's speaker is Swiss mathematician Benki Darte, on analytic continuation of Dirichlet L-functions. You should listen closely—it might help your research."

The two signed in at the entrance, then headed toward the main hall.

Xu Xu Qingzhou nodded—he'd always given his talks in another auditorium.

Their chat had ended when he woke up; Song Yao had said she'd just finished class and was heading to the library to read.

Looking at the two hundred-plus beautiful photos in his album, Xu Xu Qingzhou himself was surprised. He mentally replayed how he'd met Song Yao, wondering when he'd started craving her—no, when he'd fallen for her. By the time he finished his coffee, he still hadn't figured out whether it was lust at first sight, love at first sight, or love that grew over time. He stood up, deciding to take another walk.

Others entering the room also moved carefully, afraid of disturbing those lost in thought.

As soon as they entered the hall, Zhao Zhenglai hurried off to find Academician Xu; Xu Qingzhou decided to explore on his own first.

Xu Xu Qingzhou smiled faintly—he had no intention of going in; this wasn't his field of research.

He wandered a while longer, then entered a large classroom.

It was very lively, with several groups engaged in their own discussions, none interfering with the others.

Xu Xu Qingzhou stared, frozen, at a poster beside one blackboard: "Proof of the Goldbach Conjecture."

Holy shit, that's that impressive?

(End of Chapter)