Chapter 37
Chapter 37
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: A Serendipitous Piano
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The light in Seo-ha's room stayed on late into the night.
Worried, Mi-young paced outside her son's door.
Creeeak.
After agonizing for a while, she cautiously opened the door. Seo-ha was hunched over his desk, scribbling away. He was so absorbed he hadn't even noticed the door opening.
Mi-young wanted to tell him not to push himself too hard, but she worried he might be working on something important. She quietly closed the door.
'Everyone else worries because their kids won't study...'
Seo-ha had been like this since he was little. Once he got immersed in something, he wouldn't even hear you if you told him to eat right next to him.
Mi-young gazed at her son's door, let out a quiet sigh, and walked away.
The organizing he'd started at dinner wasn't finished until dawn.
"Ah! Already?"
Seo-ha glanced at the clock and jumped in surprise. But his face was beaming with a smile.
He turned to look at the portrait of Pascal on the bookshelf.
"I told you, didn't I? I'd make a discovery even greater than yours. Not that this one is, of course."
There was no comparing the already-proven Four Color Theorem to Pascal's theorem. But more than anything else, Seo-ha had wanted to tackle this first.
Just a few more breakthroughs, and he was sure the light at the end would come into view.
"How long will it take until then...?"
It could be tomorrow, or maybe next year...
If luck was bad, it might take much longer.
"Ugh."
As Seo-ha stretched, his eyes fell on the duck perched atop his pencil.
"Ducky, you're excited too, huh? You might have to pour out every bit of your power soon. Until then, behave and don't cause any pain."
Maybe from the stress of the environment change, the cycle for releasing Ducky was getting shorter. If he didn't vent it in time, panic symptoms would hit, so he was being extra careful.
"How long can I keep holding out like this?"
Seo-ha sank into thought.
Ducky calmed down if he let it calculate freely in a stable environment.
Anxious, Seo-ha had recorded himself and watched it back. The sight of him maniacally focused on calculations didn't feel like himself at all—he didn't want to show it to anyone.
'There has to be a way to satisfy both Ducky and me...'
It felt just within reach, but no clear solution came to mind.
"No, are these people blind?! What do they take Seo-ha for?"
Woo-hyun's face twisted as he read the online article.
[Promising Korean Prodigies: Can They Close the Gap with the World?]
The article pointed out how far behind Korean basic science was in research achievements and publications in international journals. It introduced prodigies shining in global competitions, expressing hopes for the future. What irked Woo-hyun was the part about Seo-ha.
-In particular, Yoo Seo-ha, who took first place as the youngest ever in the International Mathematical Olympiad, has earned praise as "the future of Korean mathematics" from some scholars.
However, there are also voices of concern.
Korean prodigy education has been criticized for overemphasizing competition results centered on problem-solving. Indeed, many who placed in world competitions as high school students fail to make their mark in academia after growing up or choose paths other than research.
Experts point out, "There is a fundamental gap between the ability to quickly find correct answers and the ability to propose and develop new theories."
Click.
Woo-hyun scrolled down the page.
Lately, he was barely suppressing the urge to brag about Seo-ha.
When Seo-ha won first at the IMO, Woo-hyun had celebrated alone at home with a drink. He'd expected it, but you never knew with the world.
Among laypeople who didn't know math, few would truly appreciate Seo-ha's achievement.
Especially that problem 6.
The night the problems were announced, Woo-hyun set aside his lecture prep and sat at his desk.
"Shin Woo-hyun, still not dead."
His mathematical prowess had grown far beyond his student days, so he tackled the problems without hesitation from the start.
Then, like hitting a speed bump, his pen stopped at number 6.
It was absurdly difficult.
He wrestled with it all night but couldn't find the answer. Only after seeing Seo-ha's solution did he grasp the problem setter's true intent.
'Already overtaken.'
He'd known it intellectually, but as a mathematician, it left a bitter taste, like his career was over. At the same time, a thrill surged—he'd been right about his own judgment.
[...If it were me, I'd have given full marks.]
When he saw the praise from Eliya Kronen, whom he despised, he felt like he was flying.
"Right? You have to admit it. Seo-ha's greater than you, isn't he?"
Woo-hyun poured out his fervent emotions toward Kronen's smiling face on the monitor.
Princeton research building, 13th floor.
When he'd first opened that door, he'd believed he'd finally stepped onto the path of a true mathematician. Pride in standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the world's brightest minds.
He thought someday he'd etch his name into solving a major problem.
But hope crumbled in less than half a year.
The cold gaze that man had fixed on him—Woo-hyun still dreamed of that day.
"You lack mathematical intuition. Without it, you can never become a great mathematician."
The 13th floor was hell.
Colleagues broke one by one. And one day, Woo-hyun too silently packed his bags and left, just like the others.
"Professor, your youngest Olympiad record got broken by Seo-ha. Who knows, maybe that kid will solve your Millennium Prize Problem first?"
Woo-hyun peered into the monitor and clicked on the forum.
"Phew..."
Seo-ha grunted as he set down the box crammed full of campus notebooks onto the floor.
Ever since discovering a clue to the Four Color Theorem over the weekend, he hadn't been able to calm his excitement. In the end, he'd hauled every record stored at home to the dorm.
'Let's review it all from the beginning.'
He hadn't wanted anyone to know about his failed research. That's why he'd only worked on it at home as much as possible. But now he lacked the confidence to hold back any longer.
Seo-ha's mind was entirely filled with the Four Color Theorem.
Pulling out the notebooks and spreading them neatly across the floor quickly made the room feel cramped.
He picked up one of them.
Innumerable equations and diagrams, sticky notes in the middle, messy corrections scribbled with pen.
There had been times of despair, thinking it all meaningless. But now, every effort was the sole breakthrough to solving the problem.
'No giving up.'
Glancing at the clock, it was already time for his run.
Seo-ha hurriedly changed into training clothes and left the dorm.
'That path today?'
The school's full name was Korea Science and Arts Gifted High School.
In other words, half the students were in the arts department.
Seo-ha had never once gone to the arts side since enrolling.
'Pretty buildings.'
True to each department's nature, the science side featured stark concrete, while the arts buildings used warm wood and glass for a cozy feel.
Heading out from the dorm and along the wooded path, the air gradually changed.
Seo-ha looked around curiously at this new side of the school.
'Was the school always this beautiful?'
Various sculptures dotted the lawns.
Abstract curving metal structures, massive wooden face carvings, colorful glass panels sparkling in the light.
A bit farther, he spotted students on benches sketching in notebooks, brushes, paints, and pencils scattered beside them.
For some reason, Seo-ha felt like he was intruding and hurried past.
Ahead, students were practicing orchestra.
They must have just started—the harmony was a mess. Suddenly breathless, Seo-ha stopped.
Screech—crash, clang—.
The sounds clashed discordantly in the air.
The chaotic notes grated on his nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard.
Thump-thump.
His heartbeat quickened.
Seo-ha staggered for a moment. Dizziness, like the ground tilting beneath him.
'Oh no. Here?'
He remembered he'd skipped Ducky time today while moving boxes to the dorm.
Seo-ha stumbled onward. He needed to get away from them fast.
Find a quiet spot to settle down, and it'd pass soon enough.
After walking a ways, another sound reached him from afar. A precise, metronome-like rhythm echoing steadily.
Ding—ding—.
Each press of a key pulsed like a heartbeat in perfect rhythm. Soon, harmonies layered in, and a melody flowed out.
'What piece is that?'
Schubert's Serenade.
Seo-ha, with no real knowledge of classical music, couldn't name it.
The deep, gentle chords filled the space.
His racing heartbeat gradually synced to the piano's rhythm, slowing to normal.
Mesmerized, Seo-ha followed the sound with his steps.
It came from a music room with large glass windows. Inside, a female student sat at the piano, playing.
The perfect harmonies and meticulously calculated note progressions brought order like a mathematical sequence, soothing his mind.
Seo-ha leaned against the music room wall, closed his eyes.
With eyes shut, the lingering unease from the dissonance faded away.
'Is music... math?'
Unconsciously, Seo-ha matched his breathing to the keyboard's rhythm.
His heart attuned to the tempo, regaining peace.
The piece ended, and the hands on the keys stilled quietly.
Silence hung for a moment.
Seo-ha opened his eyes to find the pianist looking right at him. He jolted up in surprise, but their eyes had already met.
Neat school uniform, long hair cascading down.
She looked so delicate, it was hard to believe she'd just poured such passion into the performance. But her face seemed too young.
His age, at most?
"Who?"
She spoke first, tired of the staring contest.
"Ah... Hello. I'm Yoo Seo-ha."
Her expression brightened at his reply.
"Oh! I've heard of you! Science track, right? The math genius."
"Not sure about genius, but yeah, science track. What about you... uh, you?"
Habit nearly made him say "noona," but he caught himself. She didn't look older, no matter how he saw it.
"Han Gyeo-ul. You don't know me?"
Gyeo-ul tilted her head, asking back.
"Anyone at this school should know me. I've heard your name tons—my mom talks about you nonstop."
Her calling him "you" repeatedly grated, especially from someone who looked so young.
"Why the casual speech?"
"How old are you?"
"Thirteen... ."
Gyeo-ul asked again with a brazen face.
"Birthday month?"
Seo-ha's eyes narrowed.
"Hm?"
"I'm the same age as you. Don't tell me you don't know Han Gyeo-ul, winner of the Tchaikovsky Junior Competition?"
Winning the prestigious international contest for under-17s at thirteen wasn't common. After her victory here, Gyeo-ul gained nationwide fame. Her pretty looks helped too.
Admission to Gifted High was a free pass, of course.
"No clue."
"Casual speech now, huh."
"You started it."
"Fine, you got a free listen, so pay up."
Gyeo-ul stuck out her palm like a debt collector.
"Gotta pay?"
"Duh. Think hearing me play is free? I even did a solo recital in the chamber hall."
Seo-ha averted his eyes from hers.
'Joking? Looks serious though.'
He had eavesdropped on her playing, true. But money too?
"H-how much? I'm out running, no cash. You take cafeteria vouchers?"
Gyeo-ul couldn't hold back and burst into laughter at his dead-serious face.
"Puhaha!"
But Seo-ha couldn't laugh.
Her refined looks and speech made the country boy in him shrink. Totally different from dealing with his usual hyungs and noonas.
"Kidding between students? Just a joke."
"Oh, really?"
Relief washed over his face.
"Instead, teach me some math homework. Don't worry, I'm not dumb?
I skipped ahead in middle school math and don't know half of it, but now I'm learning high school math at thirteen! Does that make sense?"
Even arts students had to study math.
She vented her grievances with her whole body.
'Wait, then maybe...'
Seo-ha recalled how her playing had steadied him. Perhaps she could help control Ducky.
He'd never felt this from other music before.
"Deal. But each time we meet, play one piece for me. It was too good."
Gyeo-ul's eyes widened briefly at his proposal, then she smirked knowingly.
"I get it, but no dice. I'm way too busy for dating."
Seo-ha was dumbfounded, at a loss for words.