The Riemann Hypothesis Lecture Shakes the World
Today was finally the long-awaited day of the lecture!
Mom and I headed to a famous, ridiculously expensive makeup shop in Gangnam that we’d reserved that morning. The makeup had to be done on the day itself, unlike the outfit and hair.
Ding-a-ling—
The moment we opened the door and stepped inside, the makeup artist we’d booked came out to greet us.
“Hello. You must be our reserved client, Yoo A-yeon?”
“Yeees~. Hellooo~!”
The artist took one look at me and smiled. “Oh my. You’re all dressed up. Is something important happening today?”
“Yup~! Something super-duper important!”
I threw both arms wide to emphasize just how big “important” was. “I’m standing on a stage with tons of people watching. My skin’s already nice, so keep the base light and dewy. The stage lights are strong, so powder my forehead and nose to keep them matte, please.”
Mom added her own polished explanation from the side. I didn’t understand half the terms, but I knew Mom was amazing.
The artist chuckled and guided me to the chair. “Understood. Since it’s such an important day, I’ll give it my all. You’re still a little one, so I’ll keep it light and bring out your natural charm.”
The artist’s hands moved with dazzling speed across my face. Delicate, meticulous strokes. She patted on a thin layer of base, brightened the skin under my eyes, and applied a natural tint to my lips.
When the final touch was done, she turned the chair toward the mirror.
I studied the Yoo A-yeon reflected back at me. My eyes looked sharper, my lips sparkled, and my skin glowed even brighter.
“Huheheh.”
Cuteness level: maxed out! Thanks to that, my confidence didn’t just hit 100%—it was fully charged at 3000%!
“Do you like it?”
“Yeees~! I love it sooo much! Thank youuu~!”
I bowed my head in thanks.
So this was why people paid professionals for makeup. When I used to sneak into Mom’s vanity and dab on powder by myself, I ended up looking like a rice cake dusted in flour. One wrong breath and I’d be coughing up clouds.
Click! Click! Mom, just as excited, snapped photos of me from every angle.
“Oh my goodness, our A-yeon is so adorable. What do we do?”
“Hehe. See? See? I’m cute, right?”
Peace, peace— I flashed a V-sign in front of the camera.
Black sailor dress, wavy perm, and perfect makeup! I had officially mastered the holy trinity of styling. Who am I? An IQ-160 genius, former iPhone owner, first author of the Riemann Hypothesis proof paper, and now master of the styling trinity. I am the styling master~ I am the styling master~ Forget power, courage, and wisdom—this trinity is the real Triforce!
Seoul National University Cultural Hall Grand Auditorium. Our family had arrived an hour early.
As the start time drew closer, professors and graduate students began gathering in front of the building. Some chatted in small groups, others flipped through printed copies of my paper.
It was the first time I’d seen anyone besides our family and Professor Park Moo-yeol actually reading my paper. It felt pretty good.
“Hehe.”
Dad gently took my hand. “A-yeon, you okay?”
“Yup, totally fine! Right now I’m 3000% confidence A-yeon!”
“Good. Dad believes in you. You’re a genius, after all.”
Dad reached out to ruffle my hair, then caught himself and gave my shoulder a light pat instead. He knew it had taken thirty minutes to style it.
Rustle, rustle— I pulled the gold-wrapped ball from my pocket. A Ferrero Rocher chocolate the chess club’s Eun-chae noona had given me yesterday. I’d discovered chocolate had a calming effect, so I’d brought one to ease my nerves before the lecture.
Nom—Chew, chew—
“Huaaah… sho good.”
We headed backstage. When the four of us tried to enter together, a staff member blocked us, but Professor Park Moo-yeol vouched for us and we were let through.
Thus, we successfully entered the preparation room behind the stage.
“Professor Park Moo-yeol! Hellooo! Thank you sooo much for giving me this chance to lecture!”
The professor greeted us with a warm smile. “Hoho. Don’t mention it. I wanted to see the proof process you came up with in detail myself. A-yeon, show everyone what you’ve got.”
He bent down to my eye level and held out his hand.
“Nihihi. Watch me~!”
Whoosh— I grabbed his hand and shook it up and down.
“Noona, you okay? Not scared?” A-rin asked quietly from the side.
“Honestly, I’m a wittle bit nervous. But if A-rin hugs me, I think I can do it.”
“If Noona says so, I’ll hug you lots and lots!”
Squeeze—
Ahh… this was it. This was the feeling. The natural oxytocin from A-rin’s hug. With this, nothing in the world could scare me.
The promised time had come.
“A-yeon, let’s head out.”
Mom took my hand and led me forward. Together we stepped through the front doors of the lecture hall.
About a thousand pairs of eyes. Dozens of camera lenses. Factoring in the live broadcast, at least ten thousand people were probably watching us right now.
“Huu…”
I couldn’t say I wasn’t nervous. But thanks to Eun-chae noona’s Ferrero Rocher, A-rin’s hug, Mom and Dad’s encouragement, and the full power of the styling trinity, I could handle the attention naturally.
Everyone looked bewildered. Who on earth are that mother and daughter? their faces seemed to ask.
We walked in confidently, paying no mind to the puzzled stares.
Step, step—Tip-tap—
Mom took the microphone at center stage and spoke first. Her voice was absorbed by the mic’s diaphragm, converted into an electrical signal, amplified through the speakers, and echoed throughout the entire hall.
“Hello, everyone. I am Han Seol-ae, second author of A Proof of the Riemann Hypothesis.”
Then she handed the mic to me. I smiled brightly and began my introduction.
“Hellooo! I’m Yoo A-yeon, the first author of A Proof of the Riemann Hypothesis! Hello everyone! I’m A-yeon Yu, the first author of A Proof of the Riemann Hypothesis!”
News outlets were already live-streaming the lecture hall via broadcast cameras on MeTube.
Since the news had covered the mysterious author of A Proof of the Riemann Hypothesis giving a lecture, roughly ten thousand people—including foreigners—were watching A-yeon’s stream. The fact that she had kept her identity hidden until now only made more people curious enough to click.
While so many people watched with bated breath, two figures walked onto the stage.
Step, step—Tip-tap—
“Hello, everyone. I am Han Seol-ae, second author of A Proof of the Riemann Hypothesis.”
And then—
“Hellooo! I’m Yoo A-yeon, the first author of A Proof of the Riemann Hypothesis! Hello everyone! I’m A-yeon Yu, the first author of A Proof of the Riemann Hypothesis!”
In that instant, every viewer’s thoughts came to a screeching halt.
The auditorium froze. Nearly a thousand people stared in unison at the same thing.
A tiny child standing on the podium.
105 centimeters tall. Black sailor dress with a red ribbon. Wavy hair cascading down. A bright, smiling face in front of the microphone.
Three seconds of silence.
Everyone thought it was a joke. Murmurs began to ripple through the audience.
“That kid… is the author Yoo A-yeon?”
“She’s that young?”
“Is she playing around?”
A sixty-something professor in the front row adjusted his glasses and whispered to his colleague, “What on earth was Park Moo-yeol thinking?”
“I have no idea. That child is really the author?”
A graduate student in the middle rows pulled out his phone and double-checked the arXiv paper’s author information.
[Author: Yoo A-yeon]
There was no photo next to the name, no affiliation, no information at all. Just the name sitting there alone.
“That kid is Yoo A-yeon…?”
The whispers in the audience grew louder.
The foreign professors who had flown in were no different. One whispered to the colleague beside him, “Is this a joke?”
“I have no idea.”
The colleague shrugged.
Even the camera crews stopped filming. Lee Dong-hyun sat in the front-row press section, staring blankly at the podium.
This can’t be real. That child is the author Yoo A-yeon I’ve been searching for all this time?
A scene suddenly flashed through his mind.
A little girl happily eating strawberry bomb cake at a café. The same girl speaking with absolute confidence.
It was as if he could hear both the child’s and Han Seol-ae’s voices at once.
— Later, when Yoo A-yeon does a big lecture, I’ll let you and one foreign reporter you bring be the first to do an exclusive interview with her after it ends. That’s my thanks for buying me the strawberry bomb cake!
— We’ll do exactly as this child says.
The moment the memory clicked into place, Lee Dong-hyun’s eyes widened.
“Ah! Don’t tell me… that was her!”
I looked straight out at the murmuring audience.
Doubt. Disbelief. Bewilderment.
I could feel it all in their gazes.
It was the reaction I’d expected. The natural reaction.
Thump-thump—Ba-dump, ba-dump—
It would be a lie to say I wasn’t nervous. It would be a lie to say I wasn’t scared.
But the current Yoo A-yeon can do this!
I squeezed Mom’s hand beside me.
Then I took a long breath, exhaled, and spoke clearly into the microphone.
“It’s understandable that none of you believe me.”
The murmurs died down.
“Even I wouldn’t easily believe that such a small child proved the Riemann Hypothesis. But this isn’t a joke.”
I repeated it in English.
“I understand why you don’t believe it. Even I wouldn’t easily believe it either. But this is not a joke.”
The audience stirred again. This time the murmurs carried something different from mere bewilderment.
I continued.
“I discovered the evidence that the Riemann Hypothesis is true, wrote the paper with Mom’s help, and published it. From now on, I’ll explain the process in detail.”
And in English:
“I found the key idea to prove that the Riemann Hypothesis is true. With my mother’s help, I wrote the paper and posted it. From now on, I will explain that process in detail.”
When I finished, the auditorium fell completely silent.
Everyone must have realized this situation was far too abnormal to dismiss as a mere prank.
That was fine by me.
I quietly took Mom’s hand as she stood beside the podium, picked up a piece of chalk with my other hand, and said,
“Here we go~”
I stepped onto the footstool prepared beneath the podium, bringing myself to the right height for the blackboard.
The cameras zoomed in on my fingertips. The words I wrote were broadcast on the large screen for the entire hall to see.
Tap—
Tap-tap—
Small but confident letters appeared on the board.
[Every nontrivial zero s of ζ(s) satisfies Re(s)=1/2.]
I set the chalk down and turned to face the audience.
Then, with a bright smile, I declared,
“From this moment on, I will prove it!”