Chapter 440: Is Your Inner Quality Pathetic?

Living room.

Two young people huddled on the sofa, staring intently at the comments popping up on their phone screens.

Song Yao glanced at the fans calling her "husband" and sneered.

Pfft, as soon as they see a handsome face, they call him husband.

"These people are so vulgar," Xu Xu Qingzhou scrolled through the comments, shaking his head. "I'd rather they saw my good character than just my looks."

Song Yao glanced at the hand rubbing against her thigh: "Good character? Pathetic?"

"."

"Heh, it's just a few touches. If you feel cheated, go ahead and touch back."

Xu Xu Qingzhou generously extended his leg over.

Song Yao was immune to Xu Xu Qingzhou's audacity; she kicked him aside with her foot, half-reclined on the sofa, and kept reading comments, muting and deleting trolls in one smooth motion.

Rejected, Xu Xu Qingzhou shook his head and picked up the book she'd been reading—The Castle.

Xia Country was in the evening.

At Jingda, Department of Mathematics, Professor's Office.

Gu Gu Zhizhong hadn't left work yet; he was reading the paper uploaded by Steven Jell on Princeton's website, improving the large-value estimates of Dirichlet polynomials.

After finishing the final verification, he nodded slightly and murmured, "These days, it's all the young ones' world."

He thought of Xu Xu Qingzhou again.

I should find time to call and ask.

If this kid sees someone else getting ahead of him, he'll be brooding for weeks.

Finally ran into a solid brick wall.

Think of it another way—it's a good thing.

Research never goes smoothly.

Meng Bin walked in, saw Gu Gu Zhizhong's expression, and said in surprise, "Professor, you've seen Xu's Weibo post too?"

He remembered Professor Gu didn't use Weibo.

"Huh? What Weibo?" Gu Gu Zhizhong frowned.

"Xu's junior brother improved the precision of the zero estimates for the Riemann Hypothesis again," Meng Bin explained.

Gu Gu Zhizhong froze, put on his reading glasses: "Let me see."

"Oh, okay. I thought you already knew," Meng Bin found Xu Xu Qingzhou's Weibo and opened the image he'd posted.

Gu Gu Zhizhong stared at the equations in the photo.

After a long silence, his expression turned complex: "This kid..."

Meanwhile, in India.

Amir stared at the photo on Xu Xu Qingzhou's Weibo and sighed helplessly.

Completely numb.

"Is this guy even human?"

Amir muttered to himself.

Just solved the Riemann-Siegel zero problem a few months ago, and now this month he's made a major breakthrough on the Riemann Hypothesis.

How does he have time to handle so many calculations at once?

Can human intelligence really reach this level?

"No, I think the ones who should be panicking right now are the other top contenders for the Fields Medal—having such a formidable peer in the same cohort."

His friend laughed and shook his head.

"Yeah," Amir nodded deeply in agreement, scrolled through Xu Xu Qingzhou's arXiv—but was disappointed; no new paper.

"I checked. Unlike before, his research hasn't been published yet—not even in any journals."

His friend patted Amir's shoulder: "Compared to the paper, maybe we should focus on tonight's drinking session."

"Let's go," Amir nodded.

Two days passed.

Xu Xu Qingzhou's life remained calm; his manuscript of over two hundred pages needed trimming and revision—a massive undertaking.

"And still, Ms. Wang worries every day that I'm bullying you," Xu Xu Qingzhou sat on the sofa, clutching his waist. He'd planned to lure Song the campus beauty into a late snack, but the plan failed—he got punched on the sofa instead.

"Is that not true?"

Song Yao hugged her knees and messaged Ding Ding Jiahui, refusing to let Xu Xu Qingzhou touch her. This guy's mind was always full of nonsense—he couldn't be spoiled.

"What's Ding Ding Jiahui saying?"

Xu Xu Qingzhou, thick-skinned and without a leg to play with, leaned over to peek at her messages with her.

"Worried about the defense on May 8th," Song Yao said.

April was the tail end of university life; besides internships, everyone was busy preparing for graduation defenses.

Xu Xu Qingzhou fiddled with Song Yao's hair, chuckled at this, and said, "No need to worry. To some extent, the defense panel is more worried she won't pass—they'd rather rest than waste time attending her defense."

Ding~

A message popped up under Ding Ding Jiahui's avatar: "I used to say we'd travel after graduation, but now Guo Zi's defense is over and he's starting at the company—nothing like the fantasy we had."

Song Yao typed a reply: "Opportunities will come. When are you starting at the company?"

Ding Ding Jiahui: "May 22nd."

Ding Ding Jiahui majored in Chinese Language and Literature and worked in content operations at a new media company in Jingdu.

The two girls chatted; Xu Xu Qingzhou stared at the ceiling, pondering the relationship between Guo Zi and Ding Ding Jiahui.

Guo Zi's life path had changed, but he was still as busy as ever. In his past life too—he worked three years as a programmer, daily enjoying the 996 blessing, then started his own business and jumped straight from 996 to 007.

When he finally had time, his family was a mess.

Then his business collapsed.

When he had time, he should ask Guo Zi what's going on—don't let him walk the same old path again.

Xu Xu Qingzhou wasn't worried, but the math world suddenly was.

A week had passed since he announced his calculations; countless people waited eagerly, yet he gave no update.

He now received several emails daily, confirming the proof's authenticity.

In a way, Xu Xu Qingzhou understood these mathematicians' psychology—like a man starving for three days and nights who finally sees a plate of braised pork belly right in front of him.

But no matter what, he can't eat it.

Eyes aching from staring.

Understanding aside, he didn't rush like before—he moved steadily, aiming to upload the paper by early May.

The result? The more silent he stayed, the louder the math world became—doubts multiplied.

The first to attack Xu Xu Qingzhou was a former "old acquaintance," Professor Stewart.

Stewart: "I think this hot young mathematician should first pay tribute to his seniors—just like he's handed us another empty promise."

Conflict always draws attention.

Soon, media began quoting this line to stir up hype.

"Stewart... at his age, why get so worked up?"

He'd loudly announced his proof of the Polignac Conjecture, only to be beaten to it—probably still bitter.

Xu Xu Qingzhou laughed off the online noise, unbothered—even found it amusing.

The "senior" Stewart mentioned—anyone studying math would know who it was.

In 1885, young mathematician Stieltjes published a brief note at the Paris Institute of Mathematics, claiming he had proven the Riemann Hypothesis.

But he said his proof was too complex and needed simplification, so he never released the details.

Today, this is clearly an empty promise.

But back then, it wasn't rare; many mathematicians achieved results but didn't publish them—or published only part of them. Riemann and Gauss were in this group.

So Stieltjes' behavior wasn't unusual.

The French Academy of Sciences even changed the 1890 Mathematics Prize to one for prime numbers, hoping to coax Stieltjes into publishing.

Because proving the Riemann Hypothesis would automatically prove the weaker Prime Number Theorem.

Naturally, the prize landed squarely in Stieltjes' pocket.

But his proof was never published—even after his death—and today's mathematicians generally believe that even if it had been real, it was wrong.

(End of Chapter)