Chapter 775

November 27.

The first winter snow fell, swirling flakes covering the eaves of red walls and green tiles, the stone paths, and century-old trees; the vermilion railings and dark tiles of Shuchun Garden blurred faintly in the wind and snow.

After class, Xu Qingzhou left the Science Teaching Building and headed straight for the Mathematics Institute.

This semester, he still taught the course on the Riemann Hypothesis.

Over time, the tourists coming to sign in at his lectures had dwindled, yet the lecture hall remained packed, bolstered by the prestige of the Nobel and Fields Prizes.

Song Yao had invited Song Lulu over for dinner; just now, Song Lulu sent a message saying she needed to return to her dorm first and would arrive in twenty minutes—he’d use the time to drop by Professor Gu’s office for a cup of tea.

At the entrance of the Mathematics Institute, Xu Qingzhou stamped his feet to shake off snowflakes, and as he stepped inside, he ran into an old acquaintance: Professor Jiao Mingwu, his former teacher in Advanced Algebra.

“Professor Xu.”

“Professor Jiao, are you heading to class?”

“Yes, first-year Advanced Algebra.”

They exchanged a few pleasantries, then Professor Jiao carried his teacup toward the lecture hall at the end of the first-floor corridor.

As soon as Professor Jiao entered the classroom, a student blurted out: “Professor, was that just Professor Xu who passed by?”

“Mm.”

Professor Jiao nodded with a smile.

“Whoa, Professor Xu! Is it too late to go chase him for an autograph?” someone tilted their head toward the window.

“He’s already gone. First time seeing the real Professor Xu—he’s way handsomer than on TV.”

“Oh, you’ve never seen him? Professor Xu teaches the Riemann Hypothesis course—he comes to campus every week.”

“No, I planned to audit last week, but we had class.”

Below, the students whispered among themselves.

The class bell rang.

“Alright, let’s begin. Last week I gave you a problem—those who solved it, raise your hands.”

Professor Jiao scanned the room; seeing everyone exchange glances, he sipped his tea, set the cup down, and said, “You all—if you had even one-tenth of Professor Xu’s ability, would I still have to worry so much?”

One-tenth

The students below were speechless inside: one-tenth of that genius? They wouldn’t even be sitting in class—they’d already taken off into the stratosphere.

These veteran professors constantly muttered, “Back when Professor Xu…”

There’s simply no comparison.

Professor Xu is a god; they’re just ordinary mortals.

“This problem requires knowledge of matrix inversion and rank computation,” Professor Jiao tapped the blackboard and launched straight into the solution without delay.

In the past, he used to set difficult problems to humble new students—reminding them that even at Jingda, there are always those above you, skies beyond skies.

Now, no need for such trouble—he simply pulled out Xu Qingzhou’s freshman paper.

Look—this is the paper your Professor Xu wrote as a freshman.

The effect was excellent.

Office.

“A rare visitor—come right in!”

Gu Zhi had already risen to brew tea upon seeing Xu Qingzhou.

Xu Qingzhou didn’t bother with formalities; he sat down and said, “Been swamped these past few months—today’s the first time I’ve had a moment to spare, so I figured I’d drop by for a cup of tea.”

In six years, the temples of Gu Zhi, Jiao Mingwu, and other veteran professors had turned much grayer.

Sitting in this office, Xu Qingzhou sometimes felt disoriented—Professor Gu had once reviewed his thesis right here, back in 2014.

Soon, the office filled with the fragrant aroma of tea.