Chapter 237: Empire’s Edge
In the Moscow Mathematics Research Institute in 1966.
“What did the professor say?” Andrei Kolmogorov asked.
As the most famous mathematician of the time, without exception, the members of the Moscow International Mathematician Committee had all met Lin Ran.
But the scene of Andrei Kolmogorov meeting Lin Ran was different.
He had met Lin Ran following Korolev in Geneva, while others had met him at the 1962 International Congress of Mathematicians.
Andrei still remembered that at the time, Lin Ran, who could only be considered a famous mathematician, gave him a lecture, demonstrating superb skills in cybernetics, calculus, and harmonic analysis.
At that time, he was already very clear that it was absolutely the handiwork of a master.
He just hadn’t expected that even in his least proficient areas, the other had the handiwork of a master, and in number theory, he was the foremost in the world, unmatched.
Committee Chairman Vinogradov sat at the head of the table, flipping through the invitation list in his hand, his brows furrowed.
He held an unopened pen, gently tapping the table with the cap.
Vinogradov sighed, “Andrei, the professor has not replied.
I think this time it’s really hard to invite the professor.
Comrade Pontryagin is quite right; even Comrade Korolev only dared to go to London, and only Yuri Gagarin went to New York for an interview.
Getting the White House to let the professor come to Moscow is indeed a difficult matter.”
Even Nikita called Lin Ran professor, so it was perfectly normal for mathematicians to address him that way.
Andrei remarked with emotion, “The professor’s contributions are outstanding. Without his participation in the Moscow conference, I always feel it would be truly regrettable.”
Vinogradov said, “This is politics; politics is everywhere, and mathematics cannot escape its influence.”
In August 1966, the grand hall of Moscow State University was brilliantly lit.
The Moscow side valued every international event, including those in mathematics.
However, the only regret this year was that Lin Ran did not attend, even though Nikita personally communicated with Lyndon Johnson via the “hotline” and promised to ensure the professor’s safe return to Washington.
But the professor himself refused to attend.
He made a public statement through the New York Times, saying he was too busy with work to attend and offering advance congratulations on the conference.
This report bylined by Jenny was seen by those in the know as Lin Ran’s official response.
This also removed a bit of suspense from this year’s International Congress of Mathematicians.
After all, if Lin Ran attended, he would definitely get a one-hour report slot, and everyone was looking forward to his latest progress.
Although Lin Ran, who was also the head of NASA, would normally be too busy with affairs to have new achievements in half a year.
But after all, this was the professor; all the attending mathematicians believed that if it was the professor, nothing was impossible.
However, regrettably, there was no such suspense this year.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the soaring ceiling of the hall, refracting soft light that illuminated the classical patterns carved on the walls.
In the center of the stage, a huge banner read “ICM 1966”, with national flags from various countries hanging on either side, symbolizing the unifying power of mathematics as a universal language.
However, the professor’s absence reminded every participant that it was still the Cold War era, and mathematicians from Vietnam felt it even more keenly, although there were only two from Vietnam.
The Fields Medal award ceremony was the highlight of the conference, attracting all eyes.
Chen Jingrun sat in the audience; he had already learned the news in advance that he was very likely to win this year’s Fields Medal.
He felt deeply honored, but at the same time melancholic, as he could not receive the award as a mathematician from China, nor under his real name Chen Jingrun.
This was truly a great regret.
When Professor Seagull, over seventy with neatly combed silver hair, walked to the podium, Chen Jingrun knew his award was secure.
After all, with Lin Ran not coming, Seagull’s presence carried strong symbolic significance.
Seagull, dressed in a dark suit, walked steadily to the podium; the noise in the hall gradually quieted, and the mathematicians watched this venerable elder, awaiting his speech.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Seagull began in English with a slight German accent, his voice loud and clear, “today I am honored to represent my student Randolph, who is unable to attend in person due to NASA affairs.
Randolph has entrusted me to express the deepest respect and congratulations to this year’s Fields Medalist.”
Seagull emphasized “student” here; I am the professor’s professor.
“The first awardee is Professor Dehui Chen. Professor Chen’s solution to the Goldbach Conjecture is a revolutionary achievement.
For over two centuries, mathematicians have racked their brains over this conjecture: can every even number greater than 2 be expressed as the sum of two primes? With extraordinary insight and mathematical talent, Professor Chen has advanced this difficult problem a great step forward.
Randolph commented that Professor Chen’s proof combines the essence of the sieve method and analytic number theory, showcasing stunning techniques and profound insights. His work provides ideas for completely solving the strong form of the Goldbach Conjecture, opens new research directions in additive number theory, and offers precious tools for future mathematicians.
Randolph particularly emphasized that Professor Chen’s achievement demonstrates the power of mathematics as a universal language. No matter how borders divide us, mathematics connects us together in the pursuit of truth.”
After Seagull finished speaking, the mathematicians thought he was referring to Moscow and Washington, but Chen Jingrun, sitting in the front row with his head slightly bowed and hands clasped tightly, knew this might refer to China.
What Lin Ran had done in the past left the scientific kindling for China, allowing science to transcend political barriers.
Seagull ended his speech and smiled toward the audience: “Please come to the stage to receive the award, Professor Chen.”
Amid thunderous applause, Chen Jingrun stood up and walked onto the stage with slightly tense steps.
His heart raced, but his face bore a calm smile.
After shaking hands with Seagull, he received a gold Fields Medal engraved with Archimedes’ portrait.
“Congratulations, Professor Chen,” Seagull said sincerely, “your achievement inspires us all; Randolph extends his sincere congratulations to you.”
Chen Jingrun took the medal, his voice slightly trembling: “Thank you, Professor Seagull, and please convey my thanks to the professor as well. This honor means a great deal to me.”
Chen Jingrun held the medal high, his gaze sweeping across the hall, feeling the recognition from the global mathematics community.
Memories flashed through his mind, and what he found hardest to forget was Lin Ran’s words in the aisle of the Hong Kong University Lecture Hall: “These are actually all related to intercontinental missile optimization.”
Standing in the Moscow grand hall looking back on the past, Chen Jingrun was well aware that it was that sentence from Lin Ran that completely changed his fate.
Originally, it was just a temporary mission, and he was supposed to return to China after completing it.
But from then on, his mission became long-term.
Looking back now, Chen Jingrun even felt that he might not have the chance to return to the mainland homeland in his lifetime.
Honored with awards, far from home, parents still alive, hard to forget.
In a sense, this was a blessing in disguise, hard to evaluate.
Besides Chen Jingrun, the other three awardees were Michael Atiyah, Alexander Grothendieck, and Stephen Smale.
Paul Cohen was postponed to the next round.
In later historical evaluations, Chen Jingrun’s status was elevated considerably because he shared the Fields Medal this year with Grothendieck and Atiyah.
After the award ceremony, the mathematicians moved to the lounge next to the hall for tea and discussions.
Chen Jingrun was surrounded by a group of well-wishers, including one of the conference organizers, Andrei Kolmogorov.
This giant of Soviet mathematics smiled and grasped Chen’s hand.
“Professor Chen, your achievement is inspiring,” Andrei said, “I look forward to your next breakthrough.”
The Fields Medal was just the beginning of a series of honors.
As a Hong Kong person, besides the Fields Medal, Chen Jingrun could receive numerous honors from England.
For Lin Ran to receive an honorary knighthood from England, it still required congressional approval, but Chen Jingrun had no such worries.
And for England, Lin Ran was always an outsider; officially, he was of German Chinese descent, then immigrated to America, with no relation whatsoever to England.
At most, the connection was that he was Chinese, and England had a small overseas colony that was a Chinese gathering place.
Issuing titles and medals of honor to Lin Ran was largely because he was a White House official.
Lin Ran could receive them as special assistant, but after becoming NASA director, he could no longer accept foreign honors.
England issuing them to Chen Jingrun was a no-brainer; he was English.
Hong Kong people were also English.
After the August Moscow International Congress of Mathematicians ended, Chen Jingrun flew to London.
Burlington House on London’s Piccadilly was brightly lit, with portraits of famous scientists like Newton and Darwin hanging on the walls.
It was also a symbol of England’s former scientific center.
This was the location of the Royal Society of England.
The scientists here were dressed formally, talking in low voices, awaiting the academician investiture ceremony.
And as a new Fields Medalist, Chen Jingrun deserved to become a Royal Society academician.
Besides the academician title, there was also an investiture ceremony for honors from Buckingham Palace.
Royal Society Chairman Patrick Blackett walked to the podium: “Today, we are honored to welcome Professor Dehui Chen as a Royal Society academician. His work has advanced one of the oldest problems in mathematical history, the Goldbach Conjecture, a great step forward, adding a brilliant page to the treasury of human knowledge.”
The hall erupted in thunderous applause.
Chen Jingrun was very calm inside; he thought, the professor had been through so many scenes, no wonder he could always remain calm no matter the situation.
Blackett gestured for Chen Jingrun to come to the stage. Chen Jingrun walked steadily to the podium covered with a red carpet and received the certificate and medal from Blackett.
He took a deep breath and said in slightly accented English: “Thank you to the Royal Society for granting me this high honor. Mathematics is my passion, and I hope my work inspires more people to explore the mysteries of numbers.”
That evening, Chen Jingrun stayed in a prime number room at the Claridge Hotel; this was his special treatment.
The England Royal Society had specially booked it for him in advance.
It must be known that due to the Göttingen miracle, these two rooms were extremely popular; without booking half a year in advance, it was impossible to get one.
Put it this way: anyone coming to London for academic conferences, pursuing a PhD at local universities, as a visiting scholar, postdoctoral researcher, would choose to stay one night in a prime number room at the Claridge Hotel during their time in London.
The Claridge Hotel’s official brochure had been updated, clearly stating: “. The professor unraveled the mysteries of prime numbers while residing at this hotel, completing the Göttingen miracle”
Chen Jingrun entered the prime number room and found prime number elements on the teacups, boldly written as (p, p+2).
This made Chen Jingrun sigh with emotion the professor’s influence.
That evening, a call came from the front desk: “Hello, Professor Chen?”
“Yes.”
“Professor Chen, the professor is on the line; please come to the lobby to take the call.”
Lin Ran had already made “The Professor” his nickname.
Be it sleepiness, thoughts on mathematical problems, or distractions about whether the prime number room was useful for thinking about math, after the call, all vanished from Chen Jingrun’s mind; he had only one thought: Lin Ran was looking for him.
“Hello, professor.”
A slightly fatigued voice came from the other end of the line.
It would be strange if he wasn’t fatigued.
Hosting the moon landing in 1960, with only half a year.
Hosting the moon landing in 2020, with a bit more time, one year.
But either way, from a progress perspective, it was extremely tense.
And Lin Ran was using the same management system in 2020 and 1960, all carried by him alone.
Lin Ran felt he absolutely needed a good vacation after this busy period.
“Dehui, it’s like this: old Mr. Xu Aizhou from Hong Kong has passed away. I can’t go to Hong Kong, and since you’re heading back there, I was thinking of troubling you to make a trip for me and deliver the couplet of condolence.
I’ve personally written the couplet and entrusted it to Governor David Wilson; you can just pick it up from him when you arrive.”
Chen Jingrun was not surprised that Lin Ran treated the Governor’s Mansion like a courier station; he nodded, “Okay, no problem.”
Xu Aizhou’s son had called Lin Ran to inform him of the passing.
Upon hearing it, Lin Ran felt a sense of emotion that this generation who experienced World War II was gradually drawing to a close.
Xu Aizhou was just the beginning of this generation’s curtain call; Horkheimer, Seagull, and others—their era had passed.
Entrusted by Lin Ran, Chen Jingrun, who was originally to give a speech at University of London after the investiture, had to cancel hastily and board an early flight to Hong Kong.
University of London expressed understanding; if they didn’t, there was no way, as on many matters, Ten Downing Street was unwilling to go against the professor’s will.
Victoria Harbour was shrouded in thin mist, with fine rain like silk, adding a touch of sorrow.
In the concert hall of the Hong Kong Convention Hall, a solemn and respectful atmosphere replaced the usual laughter and chatter.
White silk hung high in the hall, with a banner reading “Ever Remembering Mr. Xu”, the characters bold and powerful, conveying mourning.
In the center of the stage, a giant portrait of Xu Aizhou occupied a prominent position.
On either side of the portrait, wreaths of white chrysanthemums and orchids were piled like mountains.
As a business giant, in these five years, thanks to getting a share in the International Maritime Organization and sufficient information gap, the Xu Family rose rapidly.
While British capital waned, American capital entered strongly.
American army stationed in Vietnam, American army cargo procurement transshipped through Hong Kong, and many American soldiers chose short vacations in Hong Kong.
This profoundly changed Hong Kong’s ecosystem to some extent.
England’s influence in Hong Kong was rapidly weakening.
The Sha Tau Kok gunfight earlier this year was even seen by the public as a landmark event.
After all, Jardine Matheson’s taipan fell, and the English side didn’t dare utter a word.
What more was there to say?
To some extent, England’s influence in Hong Kong had weakened to the extreme.
As the earliest family to challenge British capital, the Xu Family naturally rose with the tide.
The hall was packed, with Hong Kong business giants, political figures, philanthropists, and Xu family members gathered, all dressed in black or white mourning attire, expressions grave.
Low murmurs and occasional sobs intertwined, with a string quartet in the background playing a mournful yet not overly sad melody, adding solemnity to the ceremony.
Chen Jingrun sat in the front row, dressed in a dark suit with a white cloth strip on his chest, conforming to traditional funeral customs.
In his hand, he tightly gripped a scroll of calligraphic couplet of condolence, the authentic manuscript he had picked up from the Governor’s Mansion.
A silver-haired elder in a black formal suit walked to the podium, his voice low and clear: “Now, inviting Professor Chen Dehui, representing America NASA Director Mr. Randolph Lin, to present condolences.”
All eyes in the hall focused on Chen Jingrun.
Whether the person he represented or himself, both were figures impossible to ignore.
Chen Jingrun was a Royal Society academician, also a Justice of the Peace with an imperial medal; his status was in no way inferior.
Moreover, Lin Ran’s choice of Chen Jingrun to represent him was already a symbol of trust.
For a moment, the entire venue was exceptionally quiet, with no sound at all, only the footsteps of Chen Jingrun’s leather shoes on the tiles.
Chen Jingrun first deeply bowed to Xu Aizhou’s portrait, then turned to the Xu family in the front row and nodded slightly in greeting.
He carefully unrolled the couplet and handed it with both hands to Xu Aizhou’s eldest son, Xu Shixun, standing beside him.
On the couplet, bold ink calligraphy leaped off the paper:
“Shipping giant, sails raised in the business sea, success and fame achieved
Philanthropy pioneer, blessings to descendants, virtue eternally transmitted”
Xu Shixun teared up upon receiving the couplet; not because of Lin Ran, but it reminded him of his father.
He had to admit Xu Aizhou’s shrewd calculation; choosing to give a building to Lin Ran was hailed in his final years as the most worthwhile business deal of his life.
He said softly, “Thank you for the professor’s deep affection and kindness, and also thank you, Mr. Chen, for coming from afar.”
Two etiquette personnel then hung the couplet on either side of the portrait, the characters gleaming under the lights, drawing gentle applause from the audience.
Lin Ran was giving tremendous face.
Everyone knew that with this couplet, it meant the Xu Family was under Lin Ran’s protection.
In today’s Hong Kong, with English and American forces waxing and waning, the symbolic significance was extraordinary.
Chen Jingrun turned to the microphone: “On behalf of Mr. Randolph Lin, I extend the deepest condolences to Mr. Xu Aizhou’s family.
Mr. Xu, with his extraordinary vision and boldness, pioneered the glorious chapter of Hong Kong shipping; his fleet not only connected the world but also laid the foundation for world shipping standards.
His charitable endeavors, whether in his hometown Zhanjiang or Hong Kong, benefited countless people, leaving an indelible mark.
Although the professor could not attend in person due to work, his admiration for Mr. Xu is evident. This couplet expresses our remembrance of Mr. Xu’s achievements and virtues.
As a Hong Kong person, I am proud that my hometown had a pioneer like Mr. Xu. His spirit will inspire us to continue moving forward.”
