Lin Zhixia detected the sarcasm in Tan Qianche’s tone.

As Xu Lingbo’s advisor, Lin Zhixia naturally had to defend her student. She said, “Xu Lingbo is still pursuing his master’s degree, Professor Tan, while you’ve already completed your doctorate.”

Subsequently, Lin Zhixia formally introduced her star student Fang Yiwen to Tan Qianche. She asked Fang Yiwen to speak first about her recent research work.

Fang Yiwen immediately picked up a black marker, stood in front of a huge whiteboard, and described while drawing: “For a general multi-electron system, the tensor product of the individual single-electron Hilbert spaces constitutes the wave function space of the multi-electron system… My project isn’t difficult; if you think about it, you should all understand. I’ve combined machine learning with quantum chemistry, using deep learning to create a framework that predicts quantum mechanical wave functions. There’s a Nature paper that uses atomic orbital local basis wave functions to derive other ground state properties [1]…”

Fang Yiwen explained things systematically.

Xu Lingbo listened in confusion.

Meanwhile, Tan Qianche interrupted Fang Yiwen and asked her several questions, which she handled with composure, truly earning face for Lin Zhixia. She, Lin Zhixia, and Tan Qianche discussed for more than twenty minutes, nearly filling the entire whiteboard, leaving even Zhan Rui with a bewildered expression.

The newly arrived undergraduate named Cui Yiming surprisingly could understand the debate between Fang Yiwen and Tan Qianche.

Cui Yiming expressed his insights, earning a look of newfound respect from Tan Qianche.

Tan Qianche said, “Professor Lin, the students in your group have a very high level.”

Lin Zhixia felt a little happy.

Although she had suffered a terrible defeat with her “Quantum Bits and Computers” course, losing a large portion of her students, the graduate students in her research group still each had their strengths, and Fang Yiwen’s enthusiasm for learning was at an all-time high.

Lin Zhixia was very satisfied.

Next, she invited Zhan Rui to report to everyone.

Lin Zhixia even stood up from her seat, approached the whiteboard, and personally wiped it clean. She was gentle, kind, and graceful, without any trace of professorial airs, yet Xu Lingbo’s heart was pounding like a drum—he had just realized that every student had to write something on the board, but what could he possibly write?

His mind was as blank as a clean sheet of paper.

He nervously swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

Zhan Rui had already taken the stage.

“Goo-goo-good afternoon, Professors.” Zhan Rui greeted the teachers.

Zhan Rui knew Tan Qianche from the Physics Department—Professor Tan’s reputation was too prominent, not just for his academic achievements, but also for his appearance and demeanor.

In front of Tan Qianche, Zhan Rui was somewhat self-conscious.

Zhan Rui deliberately slowed his speech, explaining his ideas word by word. He was very afraid that Tan Qianche would challenge him as he had done with Fang Yiwen, but to his surprise, Tan Qianche’s attitude toward him was quite gentle.

Zhan Rui’s presentation concluded in a harmonious atmosphere.

Lin Zhixia praised his progress and tactfully suggested improvements.

But Zhan Rui said, “Pro-pro-pro-professor, I’ve thought about the issue you mentioned.”

Eager to demonstrate his thinking process, he directly used his palm to erase the black marker from the whiteboard. His left hand became dirty and grimy, but his thoughts were clean and clear.

Zhan Rui wrote out a lengthy mathematical proof, work that couldn’t be completed in a day or two. He had been thinking about it for an entire summer vacation, but he was stuck at a certain point.

His mind completely merged with the mathematics. The formulas, the sentences he spoke, became particularly fluent: “Distributional reinforcement learning inspired me. I rewrote the traditional reinforcement learning update strategy. Professor, for this step I…”

At this point, he came back to his senses, his brain suddenly alarmed, uncontrollably stuttering again: “I-I-I…”

Lin Zhixia patiently guided him, and he was suddenly inspired, even asking his senior sister for a piece of paper and taking notes on it.

Tan Qianche couldn’t help but sigh, “Professor Lin, I’m a bit envious of you. This is your first-year graduate student, right?”

Zhan Rui sensed the affirmation from Lin Zhixia and Tan Qianche—recognition from two young professors gave him an enormous sense of achievement. His tightly strung nerves completely relaxed in that moment; he couldn’t describe in words that feeling of being so encouraged and happy.

A smile rose at the corners of his mouth as he returned to his seat.

Now it was Xu Lingbo’s turn to take the stage.

Lin Zhixia turned her head and steadily looked at Xu Lingbo.

Xu Lingbo’s lips turned slightly pale.

Lin Zhixia was concerned about him: “Are you feeling unwell?”

The meeting room was spacious and bright, and beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows lay a vibrant campus scenery. Xu Lingbo gazed into the distance, steeled himself, and stood up holding a stack of papers: “Professor, my research topic is ‘Study of Reactivity Indices in Quantum Chemistry’!”

Lin Zhixia nodded: “Good, you may begin.”

Begin what?

Xu Lingbo held his breath: “I read papers on artificial intelligence.”

Lin Zhixia waited for a few seconds, but Xu Lingbo had nothing more to say.

So she asked him: “How was your reading? Did you encounter any problems?”

Xu Lingbo hurriedly applied the “graduate student meeting slacking techniques.” His mouth was full of references to the latest papers, attempting to muddle through with this approach. He even made up a term: “A top conference paper from last month introduced an algorithm called ‘hahit,’ which can be used in my quantum communication network. I’m going to use a distributed machine learning framework to train…”

“What is ‘hahit’?” Lin Zhixia humbly asked him.

He evaded: “I… forgot its mathematical expression.”

Tan Qianche’s lips curled into a smile: “Didn’t you bring a stack of papers? Look it up in your papers.”

Xu Lingbo frantically searched through his papers.

He found an article published this August, guessing that Lin Zhixia and Tan Qianche surely hadn’t seen it yet. So he copied the formulas from the paper onto the whiteboard, then painstakingly translated the English sentences from the paper, claiming this was the legendary “hahit” algorithm.

He translated for a full four minutes before stealing a glance at Lin Zhixia.

Lin Zhixia sighed.

Tan Qianche teased her with an ambiguous meaning: “Professor Lin, this student of yours…”

Lin Zhixia prompted: “Xu Lingbo, turn the paper to the first page and see who the author is.”

Xu Lingbo did as told.

Lin Zhixia continued: “Read the author’s name aloud.”

Xu Lingbo stammered out the English pronunciation: “Qiwen…”

Tan Qianche revealed the truth to him: “This person is named Wen Qi, a doctoral classmate of Professor Lin. His published papers—not just your Professor Lin, even I would read them.”

“Junior brother, there are several places where your translation is incorrect,” Fang Yiwen reminded him at the right moment.

Xu Lingbo felt a chill throughout his body and was about to collapse.

Lin Zhixia leaned back in her chair, looking directly at him: “Since the semester began, how many papers have you read?”

She clasped her hands together, her expression calm.

Xu Lingbo had long forgotten that Lin Zhixia was younger than him. In his view, the current Lin Zhixia was more intimidating than a sixty-year-old department head.

As he remained silent, Lin Zhixia said, “I want to hear the truth from you.”

The course withdrawal incident this morning had dampened Lin Zhixia’s teaching enthusiasm. But she still had confidence in the three graduate students in her group. She had also reviewed Xu Lingbo’s first-year grades and reports; he was quick-witted, had a decent foundation, and had significant room for growth. She hadn’t expected Xu Lingbo to lie publicly during the group meeting.

She was still waiting for him to speak.

Time ticked by second by second. Lin Zhixia remained silent, and the other students and professors didn’t interject. In the utterly quiet meeting room, the pressure hung over Xu Lingbo’s head like dense clouds.

Xu Lingbo’s back tingled.

He dared not look at Lin Zhixia. He turned his face away, only to meet Tan Qianche’s gaze.

Tan Qianche’s posture was lazy and relaxed: “Professor Lin, why don’t we let it go? It’s almost noon, let’s go have lunch.”

Lin Zhixia’s feelings were complex. She had eaten little for breakfast and had taught all morning; now her stomach was very hungry. But she had to resolve Xu Lingbo’s issue first.

So Lin Zhixia said seriously, “Graduate school is different from undergraduate. Graduate students need to use specific methods to solve problems. I won’t force you to study or make life too difficult for you, nor will I demand weekly progress, because I understand the importance of your learning state. If you feel tired and want to relax or travel, you can ask me for leave. If you haven’t done anything for a week, you can tell me the truth in the group meeting. My only requirement is: don’t lie, don’t make things up.”

Tan Qianche wanted to laugh, but didn’t.

Unlike Lin Zhixia, Tan Qianche was extremely strict with his students.

Tan Qianche required his students to check in on time every day; “travel leave” was impossible in Tan Qianche’s laboratory.

He stipulated that his doctoral students work twelve hours a day and rest only half a day each week—he hadn’t worked this hard during his doctoral studies, but his students weren’t as intelligent as he was. Years ago, he had helped Yang Shuwen overcome many hurdles, but now he didn’t have so much leisure time to train young people hands-on; he could only push them forward forcefully.

He had originally thought that Lin Zhixia was the same kind of person as himself.

He looked at Lin Zhixia with amusement, remembering when they first met; she was still a fifteen-year-old girl.

Lin Zhixia’s tone was particularly formal: “I’ll ask you once more, please tell me, since the semester began, how many papers have you read?”

Xu Lingbo leaned against the whiteboard and spoke in a muffled voice: “Non… none.”

Fang Yiwen pointed out incisively: “Professor Lin, he’s also stuttering now.”

Lin Zhixia didn’t continue to question Xu Lingbo. Her stomach was too hungry, almost rumbling. She briefly encouraged Xu Lingbo, then turned to look at Cui Yiming, asking him to describe his research interests.

Cui Yiming stood up.

He stretched his arms out, did a warm-up exercise, and moved his limbs on the spot. He swiftly rushed to the whiteboard, like a veteran actor who had been shelved for years, finally getting the chance to appear on the big screen. He meticulously explained his research field and published papers, with all the spotlight shining on him alone.

Finally, he suggested, “Professor Lin, you’d better implement a last-place elimination system in your group. Shanghai Jiao Tong University’s doctoral degree applications… use a last-place elimination system with significant effects.”

After speaking, he glanced at Xu Lingbo.

Xu Lingbo read various emotions in his eyes: pity, resignation, contempt, and more. Xu Lingbo had his hands in his pockets, his fingertips nearly pinching his thighs red. He felt awful. Being looked down upon by a genius, yet unable to bridge that gap, even Lin Zhixia was disappointed in him.

*

After the group meeting, Tan Qianche and Cui Yiming left first. He invited Cui Yiming to eat at the faculty dining hall—the dishes in the faculty dining hall were more expensive and refined. To be taken to the faculty dining hall by a professor from the Physics Department was a great honor and distinction.

Lin Zhixia decided to go home for lunch. Her residence was very close to the school. At home, she had shrimp dumplings that her mother had wrapped and frozen the night before, and a box of strawberry yogurt in the refrigerator… Her train of thought was interrupted by a text message from Tan Qianche.

Tan Qianche told her, “I had a good chat with Cui Yiming; he’s coming to our group. Sorry, Professor Lin, I’ve poached one of your students. Young people always have their own choices.”

I’ve poached one of your students?

Lin Zhixia paused her steps.

The street was bustling with vehicles and pedestrians.

Tree shadows fell on her phone screen. Lin Zhixia pondered for a moment, planning to send Cui Yiming an email asking if he was giving up her project—she had a paid project at hand that was very suitable for him.

But she thought again, what was she doing?

Did she want to compete with Tan Qianche for students?

It wasn’t as if she didn’t have students.

What was there for Tan Qianche to boast about?

Lin Zhixia looked up at the sky, which was still a bright, clear blue.

About two seconds later, she replied to Tan Qianche’s message: “Alright, I understand. I wish him progress and also wish you successful work.”