Passing the Baton
“So... Yoo A-yeon, you self-studied math using Professor Shin Ijun's research notes and textbooks, drew inspiration from the ideas in those notes, independently discovered a proof for the Riemann Hypothesis, and wrote it all up as a paper?”
“Yep! Oh, and since my muscles are still weak, Mom helped with the typing. That's why she's the second author~.”
Professor Park looked at me again. His gaze had shifted to one of testing me out.
“A-yeon.”
“Yep.”
“Let me ask one more thing.”
Professor Park set the paper down and headed to the whiteboard on the wall.
He scribbled a bunch of equations with the board marker, then turned to me with a question.
“This is about a problem I've been researching lately: the distribution of special values of L-functions. Any ideas on how to approach it?”
I stared at the equations on the board for a moment.
It was a problem dealing with L-functions in the context of the Langlands program. Cutting-edge stuff in analytic number theory.
Not exactly overlapping with my field, but there was enough intersection that I wasn't totally in the dark.
“Hmm... Gimme a sec to think~.”
“Take your time.”
I sank deep into thought. Unconsciously, my feet started fidgeting. I paced around the office in circles, then bounced in place.
Mom tried to stop me, but the professor said it was fine and to just watch.
A few minutes later, after mulling it over thoroughly, I gave a careful answer.
“...What if we use the correspondence between automorphic representations and Galois representations? Since special values of L-functions connect to motivic cohomology, maybe we can find a clue there... Of course, I could be wrong. It just seems like a direction worth trying~.”
A moment of silence.
Professor Park stared down at me quietly.
“My goodness...”
He pressed a hand to the corner of his eye and said nothing for a while.
“Professor?”
I called out cautiously.
Professor Park looked up. His expression had gone past disbelief into a touch of resignation.
“Yoo A-yeon... You're really five years old?”
“Fuhehe! Precisely five years and three more months~!”
“...Honestly, at first I thought this was some hidden camera prank Han Seol-ae prepared. I mean, why would a near-stranger pull something like this? But now I have to accept it's real. This level of deep understanding of modern math at age five...”
“Huhung. I am pretty amazing, huh!”
I puffed out my chest proudly.
“Ah, A-yeon!”
“It's fine, Han Seol-ae.”
Professor Park Mu-yeol knelt down to meet my eye level.
“Yoo A-yeon. Just one more question.”
“Ask away~!”
“You said you got inspiration from Professor Shin Ijun's research notes in the study.”
“Yep!”
“In your opinion... did those notes have academic value? Was Professor Shin Ijun's final research... not in vain?”
Professor Park spoke in a careful tone.
I immediately grasped the intent behind his question.
Professor Park Mu-yeol, a researcher in the same field, had mourned Shin Ijun's death too.
We are scholars.
Scholars may die and end their lives, but the research records they leave behind endure. Those records pass to the next generation, who build upon them to create new ones.
And to the generation after that. And the one after. Humanity has accumulated knowledge and advanced civilization that way.
We scholars are the ones who have passed the baton of knowledge to posterity in an endless relay race.
A grueling race where you can't even see ahead clearly. Many have faded away without passing the baton properly.
So what Professor Park wanted to hear was this: that Shin Ijun's research in life, the records he left, had properly passed the baton to the next generation.
I answered without hesitation.
“Of course!”
I looked straight at Professor Park and spoke clearly, word by word.
“Without those notes, this paper wouldn't exist! Professor Shin Ijun's approach set the direction from the start! And that direction itself wouldn't have been possible without the ideas mathematicians accumulated over 160 years! So all I did was place one more brick on a well-built tower!”
These weren't exaggerated words. It was the plain truth as I felt it.
In reality, some memories flew away when I reincarnated.
I forgot the specifics of what I'd done in those last three months before death. Revisiting the notes helped me reconstruct the proof process.
If those research notes from Shin Ijun hadn't been in the study. If he hadn't left memos in the cloud. I, Yoo A-yeon, could never have recovered the lost proof process.
In other words, Shin Ijun's frenzied scribbles over those three months definitely had meaning.
They had properly been passed to his successor, Yoo A-yeon.
“So.”
I met Professor Park's eyes squarely.
“It wasn't in vain. His research.”
The professor stood there frozen for a moment, then slowly rose.
He gazed out the window. Warm sunlight poured over the campus. Professor Park Mu-yeol must have attended my funeral in my past life too. What had he thought at Shin Ijun's funeral?
...Maybe I should've gone to my own funeral?
Lost in reminiscence, the professor spoke.
“Professor Shin Ijun was a phenomenal rising star in the math world. He built an incredible career at such a young age and showed insights that even surprised me. I thought maybe, just maybe, he'd prove the Riemann Hypothesis. That's why it was all the more tragic. To think he'd die so young from a heart attack.”
Then Professor Park turned to look at me.
“But you, Yoo A-yeon, have carried on his legacy.”
Shin Ijun is dead. But I inherited his will. I completed the Riemann Hypothesis paper just as he would have wanted.
“Thank you, Yoo A-yeon.”
“Hehe. No problem~.”
I squirmed bashfully at the middle-aged professor's praise.
Professor Park returned to his desk and picked up the paper again.
“And I think I know the real reason you came to see me. I'll read the paper properly and review it. If there's no issue, I'll endorse it. I'll send recommendation emails to fellow professors too.”
“Yay—! Professor Park Mu-yeol! Thank youuu—! Wuhehe!”
I got so excited I started hopping up and down right there.
“Ah, A-yeon! You!”
Mom tried to scold me, but...
“Hoho. It's fine. Kids should play like this, bouncing around. My daughter had times like that too. Now she's prepping for the college entrance exam and so on edge...”
Professor Park stopped Mom, saying it was okay.
Truly, Professor Park is such a kind soul! Well, I'd come to him in the first place because I knew he was a good person.
After wrapping up the conversation nicely...
“Bye, Professor Park Mu-yeolll! Take care~!”
“We'll be going now. Thank you, Professor Park Mu-yeol.”
We bowed and left the professor's office.
Vroom—.
Our family of four, errands done, climbed back into the car for the ride home.
Of course, since we'd come to Daejeon, we didn't forget to stop at the famous local bakery!
We bought tons to give as gifts to friends and family, so the car filled with the sweet, savory aroma of fresh bread.
Since A-rin and I still didn't have all our baby teeth, Mom cut the bread into tiny pieces and popped them into our mouths.
“Munch munch nyam.”
“Om nom hehe.”
Hehe. Bread's so yummy.
“A-yeon, how'd it go? Talking with the professor. Nom nom.”
Dad asked while driving with a piece of bread in his mouth.
“I was super nervous, but after some hehe deep breaths, it went well...”
“Really? You seemed really tense, A-yeon? To me, it looked like you answered amazingly well...”
“But I didn't expect him to suddenly throw one of his own research problems at me... Special values of L-functions distribution? That's a hot topic in analytic number theory! Even past-life me couldn't answer that properly!”
“Oh, that time? Mom didn't get what it was about, but I remember you reacting so cutely. You propped your chin on your hand, deep in thought, then started bustling around everywhere—”
“Aaaah! Mom, that's embarrassing, don't say it—!”
A-rin giggled beside us listening to our chatter.
Before long, sunset hues spread across the highway. Orange light from the horizon painted the inside of the car.
Exhausted from all the tension in front of the professor, I quickly succumbed to sleep.