A Highway Built of Devotion
‘...Whoa.’
Five massive whiteboards filled Lee Cheol-jun’s clear eyes.
The black equations densely packed across them formed a single, magnificent, and beautiful path winding all the way into the cosmos.
Cheol-jun’s gaze lingered on the very first line of the whiteboard—the starting point of the proof.
There, he saw a misty forest path laid down long ago by the grandfathers of mathematics, the men once hailed as geniuses.
Kolmogorov, Arnold, and Moser.
The three pioneers who had formulated the KAM theorem.
They had left nothing but a single, solitary signpost standing at the entrance to the dense forest of the Many-Body Problem.
Within this forest lies an orbit that will never collapse.
However, a highly precise and delicate set of conditions must be met perfectly.
It was a terribly unhelpful signpost.
It promised a path existed, but it never explained why, nor did it specify where those delicate, precise conditions could actually be found.
Countless scholars had plunged recklessly into that forest, only to fall into the trap of small denominators that exploded to infinity, leaving them lost and despairing.
But Cheol-jun had been able to see the landscape beyond the mist.
And so, he had simply hummed a tune, skipping and jumping his way through the dense fog.
‘Oh? If I go this way, the small denominators don't explode.’
‘Oh? Going this way makes the planets veer past each other without colliding.’
Armed with nothing but a compass called topology, he had run around to his heart's content, carving out his own path toward the stars.
Yet, all Cheol-jun had left behind were shallow footprints.
In the end, it was a path only he knew—a treacherous, precarious shortcut that would blow away with the wind or wash away with the rain, a trail no one else could possibly follow.
But as Cheol-jun shifted his gaze to the other whiteboards, an astonishing sight unfolded.
Over the dusty footprints where he had skipped along, countless adults were now following, sweating profusely.
The mathematics professors had filled the gaps in logic that Cheol-jun had casually leaped over with solid earth, paving over them with flawless, seamless asphalt.
The physics professors had erected sturdy streetlights called Hamiltonian mechanics to illuminate the path, ensuring no one would get lost in the dark.
And the astronomy professors had planted clear signposts of real-world observational data along the roadside, setting up guideboards so that anyone walking this path could reach the truths of the universe without ever losing their way.
‘Wow...’
As Cheol-jun's eyes swept past the third and fourth boards to the edge of the fifth and final one, he saw a magnificent, wide, eight-lane highway—fully completed, where all of humanity could walk together with smiles on their faces.
Cheol-jun knew this well.
He had merely pointed a finger and said, "It's fun this way!" Yet, in response to that single gesture, all these adults had stayed up for days and nights, dark circles bruising their eyes, discarding hundreds and thousands of sheets of paper to build this grand road.
It was a warm, gentle hand extended by adults who had desperately chased after him just to fully understand the path he had pointed out.
Connection.
Just as isolated equations were bound together by perturbation to find eternal stability, Cheol-jun could see the warm bonds connecting human to human within these dense black formulas.
Gazing at the path he could never have built alone, a soft, ticklish warmth swelled deep within his chest.
He was so incredibly grateful, and so incredibly happy.
After admiring the beautiful path for a long moment, Cheol-jun slowly turned around.
Below the platform, countless professors with hollow, exhausted eyes—still holding their puffed rice snacks—were watching him with bated breath.
"Cheol-jun, h-how is it? Do you think the expansion part for removing the small denominators was explained a bit too excessively...?"
The mathematics professor asked tentatively, wetting his dry lips. At that moment—
"Thank you!"
Cheol-jun bowed deeply, wearing the brightest, most beautiful smile he could muster.
"The road is so incredibly beautiful!"
"...Huh?"
"The path I walked was foggy and bumpy, so I was the only one who could walk it. But you all worked so hard for so long to build this road for me!"
Cheol-jun turned his head to look back at the whiteboards.
"You paved it, put up streetlights, and set up signposts so meticulously so no one would fall! Now, anyone will be able to see exactly how the stars orbit without colliding!"
In an instant, everyone surrounding Cheol-jun went dazed.
"For making such a wonderful and beautiful road in the misty forest where I was just running around blindly..."
Cheol-jun bowed deeply once more.
"Thank you so, so much! You are truly the coolest!"
Dean Gu Byung-ook, who had been standing in a daze, let his mouth hang open slightly.
He had been waiting only for a cold mathematical verdict on whether there were errors or not, but now, a massive tidal wave of emotion suddenly crashed over him.
"...*Sniff.*"
A mathematics graduate student, who had stayed up for days expanding the equations, clutched the tip of his suddenly reddened nose.
Starting with that sound, gasps and sniffling began to erupt throughout the auditorium.
"Ah... Why am I like this?"
Do Seon-ju took off his glasses and wiped his eyes, and even the notoriously strict math professor turned around, pressing down on his reddening eyelids.
Cha Seon-hyeok looked up at the ceiling with slightly blurred vision and let out a hollow laugh. "Haha."
‘Korea vs. Japan match, my foot...’
This research was not a cold, ruthless academic battle to trample and defeat someone else.
It was a moment where a child of overwhelming talent fully recognized the bone-shattering efforts of ordinary geniuses who had struggled to keep up with him, and offered his pure, heartfelt gratitude for their devotion.
They had been validated by that small child—their grueling labor was not mere computational drudgery, but a monumental achievement bridging the wondrous universe and humanity.
Cheol-jun clapped his hands. *Clap, clap.*
It wasn't clear who the applause was for, but everyone scrambled to join in.
Whether it was for the exhausted graduate students, the professors who had burned with passion despite their advanced years, or the little genius who had fearlessly broken through the misty path of the cosmos.
Though their reasons differed, the sound filling the auditorium resonated in perfect harmony, like a single, massive chord.
Seo Young-ho, the head of the Astronomy Department, patted research professor Cha Seon-hyeok on the shoulder with a warm smile, while the math professors busied themselves checking on their respective graduate students.
Cheol-jun's warm gaze and heartfelt praise were building a sturdy, beautiful pillar of pride in the hearts of the Seohan University researchers, who had been worn down by anxiety and exhaustion.
‘Was astronomical research always this moving?’
Everyone gathered in the small auditorium was thinking the same thing.
It was the moment the College of Natural Sciences, supposedly populated entirely by cold, logical Thinkers, was completely dyed in warm, emotional Feeling.
Dean Gu Byung-ook, who had been watching the touching scene while trying to suppress his own rising emotions, suddenly furrowed his brow.
‘...Hm?’
Normally, he would have instantly declined any call interrupting such a sacred moment, but the strangely heavy vibration pattern made him startle. He pulled his phone from his pocket to check the number.
‘...The United States?’
Seeing the caller ID, Dean Gu Byung-ook's eyes widened.
The US.
Specifically, the area code for New Jersey, where Princeton was located.
In an instant, a thought flashed through his mind.
‘Could it be... Edward Kang?’
He had sent three emails, but there had been no reply for the longest time.
He had half-given up, planning to edit the footage of their progress so far to send another email, or looking for acquaintances with direct connections in the Korean academic community. But now?
A drop of cold sweat formed on Dean Gu Byung-ook's forehead.
With a trembling finger, he carefully pressed the answer button.
"H-hello...?"
Gulping, Dean Gu Byung-ook's pupils dilated wildly.
"Ah! Yes! This is Gu Byung-ook!"
Dean Gu Byung-ook quickly bowed his head, even over the phone.
The arrivals hall of Incheon International Airport.
From the crowd pouring out as the automatic doors slid open, a man wearing a low-slung baseball cap and black horn-rimmed glasses stepped forward.
He was dressed simply, carrying nothing but a light carry-on suitcase in one hand.
He was Edward Kang, a tenured professor at the Princeton Institute for Advanced Study and a Fields Medalist.
The moment he cleared the arrivals hall, he turned on his phone.
It vibrated relentlessly.
Edward Kang snorted and switched his phone to silent.
And then, he cocked an eyebrow.
He still couldn't fully trust the Korean academic community—specifically, the Dean of the College of Natural Sciences at Seohan University.
That was why he had moved up his schedule and arrived a day early.
‘Hm...’
He knew the dreadful habits of the Korean academic world better than anyone.
If he had naively told them when he was arriving, they would undoubtedly be waving tacky name cards at the airport gate, mobilizing reporters to turn him into a public spectacle.
And at the center of it all, they would have placed a manufactured prodigy, dressed in stiffly ironed clothes, smiling robotically just as the adults instructed.
All to secure the perfect photo op and generate media buzz.
He hadn't come to look at a beautifully packaged window display.
Nor did he have any intention of playing along with the Korean academic community's show.
Edward Kang made his way toward the taxi stand.
There was only one reason he had set aside his busy schedule, packed his bags, and crossed the Pacific.
To see with his own eyes whether the author of those perfect, wondrous equations had truly produced them from a child's pure intuition.
If the child turned out to be a mere puppet, parroting advanced formulas forced upon him by greedy adults, Edward Kang intended to spit in the faces of the Seohan University researchers and fly straight back to America.
But,
if that overwhelming cosmic orbit was truly a path the child had discovered on his own...
‘...’
Edward Kang's cheeks dimpled deeply.
‘I must take him to America.’
He had firmly made up his mind.
He could not let such a colossal talent be ground down by Korea's exam-oriented education system or used as a mere tool for university performance metrics.
If the child was indeed an extraordinary genius, he would clearly lay out the paths the boy could take and strongly persuade his guardians.
"Where to, sir?"
The driver asked politely as Edward Kang climbed into the back seat of the taxi.
"Hanyoung Private Elementary School, please."
Edward Kang glanced at the memo on his phone, the corner of his mouth curving slightly upward.
It was currently just before noon.
He had already looked up when classes ended.
The boy would still be at school.
He needed to observe the child in his most natural, unvarnished state first.
‘Ha, an elementary schooler...’
Edward Kang rolled down the window slightly, taking in the Seoul air for the first time in a long while.
‘KMC Grand Prize?’
That was the only official record the child had in the Korean math competition scene.
‘Hanyoung Private Elementary School, 5th Grade, Class 5, Lee Cheol-jun.’
He had already contacted Hanyoung Private Elementary School through an acquaintance.
He had expressed his desire to briefly observe the student without his knowledge, and the principal had readily agreed.
Recalling the child's photo from the online articles, Edward Kang stared quietly out the window.
‘Whew... It's hot.’
The early summer weather in Korea was incredibly sticky.
Yet, experiencing it again after so long felt strangely nostalgic.
It was a homeland where even the weather managed to stir complex, bittersweet emotions.
Edward Kang unbuttoned the top of his dress shirt and fanned himself with his hand.
"Excuse me?"
"For now, just keep that in mind."
"The... the real Professor Edward Kang?"
"Shh, quiet!"
At the vice principal's instruction, Go Chang-ho blinked in a daze.
The ultimate pride of the HYPSM Korean student association and a hero to Korean academics.
That legendary figure, Professor Edward Kang, was coming in person to see Cheol-jun...
"Anyway, he's coming quietly without notifying anyone, so keep it under wraps. It's perfect timing since we're holding the end-of-semester open classroom observations for parents right now. Oh, and you must not tell Cheol-jun. Understood, Mr. Go?"
"...Yes, sir."
Go Chang-ho swallowed hard and nodded.