There was an unusual silence in the busiest teahouse in Beijing. Even the storytellers, singers, and music players all stopped eating strangely, and invariably crowded to the door of the tea house, looking up at the sky.
There was a huge gray-black thing on the sky, as thin as a cicada's wing, but no matter which direction you looked at it, it looked like a big square piece of paper.
At this time, the paper was completely dark, with no sun and no light. Only the river and the city could be vaguely seen.
The melodious tones of musical instruments that I have never heard before flow calmly together with the faint river. The next moment, the tone suddenly turned high, and the paper suddenly became bright!
Countless star-like lights outline the outlines of the buildings, building one after another, like a continuous sea of light illuminating the entire world. The river reflected the light from the shore, so the river turned into a star in an instant.
The scholar in the teahouse smacked his mouth, feeling that thousands of lines of poetry were pouring into his mouth, and for a while he couldn't choose which line was the best. After smacking for a long time, I could only say dryly: "Is this the galaxy above our heads?"
An old scholar with a long beard sitting next to him replied: "I'm afraid it's almost the same. I've lived half my life and I've never seen such a spark. If not gods and Buddhas, who has such power?"
Someone snorted coldly: "If there are gods and Buddhas, why have we never seen them in the portraits?"
"What are our identities? Don't think that just because you have read a few books, you are no longer an ordinary person digging in the fields." The old scholar shouted, "How can gods and Buddhas be easily seen?"
"Isn't it said in the capital that Prince Yunzhong has ascended to immortality? If the gods and Buddhas cannot be seen, then what does Prince Yunzhong mean?" The man in the lead laughed, "Is he a sinner who was caught by gods and Buddhas to question his guilt? ?”
When the Prince of Yunzhong was mentioned, the chatters looked at each other and stopped talking in unison.
For those of them who were born and raised in Beijing, to put it bluntly, they had watched the Prince of Yunzhong grow up. Since he returned to Beijing, he has always bumped into him once or twice a year. Look at the faces of familiar people.
Since we are acquaintances, we would never think that he is a vicious person.
But looking at him now, except for the day he ascended, he really doesn't look like an immortal.
Whose immortal has messy short hair?
The storyteller looked here several times before hesitatingly said: "Perhaps... that person was originally a fairy boy from heaven who came to earth. He did something wrong and was called back by the elders in heaven to be punished. You have to be punished. , but the identity is also real.”
The bearded scholar breathed a sigh of relief and cupped his hands at him: "Sir, what you said makes sense."
"Take a good look at Shenxianju Mansion, what are you talking about about the Prince of Yunzhong?" A tall and round man slapped the table, "Anyone who doesn't want to watch, get out of here, don't bother your grandpa here!"
He had a long knife in his hand, and at first glance he looked like a reckless man licking blood. Everyone didn't dare to speak anymore and just watched quietly.
It is estimated that this fairy residence can only be seen once in a lifetime. It's time to take a closer look.
As the music fades, the scene seems to be coming to an end.
Their eyes reached above the clouds again, and they clearly saw the dazzling sunlight behind the clouds and the buildings standing on the clouds. This time, there was a strange-shaped carriage in the clouds, coming through the clouds and mist.
The music stops and the picture turns from light to black.
"...will it still light up?"
"It can't be done. Just like the day Prince Yunzhong ascended, it will no longer be visible when it turns into this transparent gray-black color."
As soon as these words came out, there was a sigh in the teahouse.
Although you will never be able to visit or ask for the fairy mansion in your lifetime, it is still good to see more of it. Although the scene was almost completely different from what was written in those books. But where is the abode of gods that mortals can imagine?
The difference shows that it is a real god and not a fake by a liar! A few more glances will really bring you more blessings!
The capital became lively again, but the palace remained silent.
Lin Huo stood in the Qinzheng Hall, wearing a set of snow-white prison clothes, keeping his mouth shut and looking at his leader.
Yang Yiheng looked back and picked up the tea slowly: "You are doing well in Zhenfu Prison."
"Your majesty, thank you for your trouble. No one will torture me." Lin Huo said.
He asked himself to be imprisoned, and he was also the commander of the Zhenfu Division. There was no torture order from the emperor himself, so the Tiqi below were very polite to him.
"I don't know when Zhen Fu Si Prison became such a place to raise people." Yang Yiheng snorted coldly, "If one or two go in, they can all come out with their beards and tails intact."
"I dare not slack off in practicing martial arts when I am young. I can withstand the severe cold in the underground prison." Lin Huo said calmly, "As for others... just being locked up in it is already torture."
Yang Yiheng's eyes flashed: "Lin Huo! Don't think that I can't hear what you want to say!"
Lin Huo cupped his hands and said, "I don't dare."
"I think you are very brave!"
Yang Yiheng raised his hands angrily, and the tea cup dropped directly at Lin Huo's feet. The hot tea splashed and wet half of Lin Huo's trouser legs.
The thin cloth was soaked in water and pressed against the skin of the calf, instantly turning it red. Lin Huo remained motionless, only bowing his head submissively.
Yang Yiheng gritted his teeth: "Where did you take him?"
Lin Huo lowered his head and did not answer.
"say!"
"I don't know."
"I don't know, right?" Yang Yiheng narrowed his eyes, "Lin Huo, do you think if something happens to your group of friends, will he know about it?"
Lin Huo raised his head, looked at the distorted young emperor on the first seat, and still said: "I don't know."
"You live and die together in Northern Xinjiang, how could you not know?" Yang Yiheng said softly, "He has always been a soft-hearted person, and he hates to see anyone suffer because of him."
"Since Your Majesty knows, why bother to ask me." Lin Huo replied quietly, "His Royal Highness Yunzhong lost his father when he was young and his mother when he was young. He only has a few friends who are willing to give him a pot of hot wine when he is suffering from illness. . If something happens to a friend because of him, His Highness Yunzhong will definitely blame himself. He may come back, or he may wish he was dead."
Lin Huo paused and then said: "Your Majesty, His Highness Yunzhong wanted to die when he was in charge of the prison."
Yang Yiheng was startled suddenly and blurted out: "I didn't want to kill him! I just wanted to...scare him."
Lin Huo lowered his head again.
Yang Yiheng didn't want to look at him at all: "Get out!"
"I obey the order." Lin Huo cupped his hands and turned around.
Yang Yiheng stared at his back, watching Lin Huo walk all the way under the bright tiles in the sky, and gradually lost sight of him.
He raised his eyes to look at Ming Wa, who had regained his composure, and thought: Brother Jia, you seem to be sick.
I thought again: You lost your father, and so did I. You have lost your mother, and so have I. But why do you still have so many friends who are willing to die for you? We should be the closest people...
Brother Jia, only we can feel each other's pain in this world. Only we can warm each other.
How could you... look at someone else?
…
Jing Changjia didn't know anything about what happened in Hongchao. His life was really busy.
Waves of energy poured into the system, and the system used part of the energy to repair his nerves. In recent times, his hands have become extremely flexible. So he asked his family to bring him a laptop and started working on the work at hand.
There were seven or eight books filled with ghost drawings, and he had to enter them all himself. His calculation ideas have been stuck for several days. No one can help him, so he can only seek a breakthrough on his own. When I entered college, I didn’t study mathematics, so now I have a lot of papers to read.
Most importantly, he wanted to transfer to the mathematics department and be discharged from the hospital before school started. He had to solve all these matters by himself. He really had no time to think about an old friend whom he had not seen for several months and would not see for decades in the future.
Yang Heng was very interested in what his brother was busy with. With his little mind, he couldn't figure out what his brother would be busy with after he woke up after being comatose for more than a year. So when he saw Jing Changjia turn on the computer, he ran over like a puppy.
"Brother, what are you going to fight for? I'll help you!"
"You don't understand." Jing Changjia opened a book of ghost drawings, glanced at it a few times, and started typing with his fingers flying.
"Look down on me. I passed your high school too!" Yang Heng hummed a few times and turned to look at his brother's screen.
Just looking at it made me dizzy: "What are these? High math?"
"Algebraic geometry." Jing Changjia explained casually, "On non-singular projective algebraic varieties, any Hodge class is a rational linear combination of the cohomology class."
Yang Heng: "..."
Yang Heng was stunned: "Huh?"
"You don't understand, right? I haven't fully understood it yet." Jing Changjia said, "This dark cloud is not easy to deal with."
In the future, he has been exposed to many mathematical problems that have been successfully used and have long become the default formulas in textbooks. During the education he received in the orphanage, he was also required to calculate some weak mathematical conjectures by himself.
He was by no means an ordinary student who had no clue about the solution, nor was he an inexperienced mathematician. But now facing this well-known Millennium problem, he felt a sense of powerlessness that he had not been able to write about for a long time.
"...Maybe my direction is wrong." Jing Changjia murmured, "But the previous part should be correct, and the idea is consistent with Professor Wilson in the Mathematics Annual Report."
Maybe he could try writing an email to discuss this issue with the professor. Or maybe...it's not certain that he will get a new answer if he gives up this idea completely.
Seeing that his brother was deep in thought, Yang Heng stepped aside and stopped arguing.
But there was a voice in his brother's head asking: "Maybe the host needs a psychotropic potion?"
Jing Changjia's eyes lit up: "Did you take this away?"
"No. But the system energy can simulate the effect of psychoactive drugs." The system said, "Hosts should not forget that the Interconnection System of All Realms is a system that helps the host grow and learn. Everything related to this can be provided by the system."
"Then what do I need to pay?" Jing Changjia asked.
"Please host the live broadcast well and absorb energy to restore system functions as soon as possible," the system said.
