So, since there was no way to take his assets aboard the ship, he might as well donate them to a social welfare organization and be done with it. That way, he wouldn't have to worry about them.
But donating had its pitfalls, too.
Welfare organizations were a mixed bag these days. Many were set up by the wealthy specifically to avoid inheritance taxes. Donating his assets to one of those organizations would be like throwing a meat bun to a dog.
After thinking it over, Zhang Yuan decided to donate all of his assets to the Deep Space Foundation.
This enormous global nonprofit organization had launched the entire interstellar colonization program. It was directly managed by the United Government, and its financial procedures and other systems were exceptionally well regulated.
Standing in front of the camera, Zhang Yuan said, "I hereby donate all of my fixed assets and monetary funds to the Deep Space Foundation, effective in the year 2266..."
After recording a video and filling in the relevant details, the donation process was complete.
Until the effective date arrived, the assets were still his, and he could change his mind at any time.
He thought it over carefully and set the effective date for two years later.
In two years, the Earth Era would be expected to reach Pluto's orbit. If nothing went wrong, that would be wonderful. If something did go wrong, then even if a rescue team was sent, there was little chance he and the others would survive.
"That settles it!"
"What a waste. What a waste!"
He firmly pressed the confirmation button. His heart ached, yet he felt oddly happy, and an inexplicable emptiness washed over him. He felt as if his whole body had gone limp.
These were all the assets his father had left him, and now he'd just thrown them away.
Zhang Yuan quickly comforted himself, putting his reluctance behind him...
After that, there didn't seem to be anything else to do.
Back when he'd worked in the space city, there had always been more work than he could finish. The trainee team leader had treated them like dogs, calling it "stress training." Now that he suddenly had free time, he felt a little lost.
People really were a strange species.
Some people liked to party and let loose before they left. But he didn't think there was any need for that.
"Maybe I'll read a book. It'd be good to learn something."
Zhang Yuan went into the study and browsed the titles on the bookshelf.
Anabelian Geometry and Tame Topology
On Almost Complex Structures in Symplectic Spaces
Integral-Geometric Methods in the Langlands Program
Looking at the titles, Zhang Yuan couldn't help clicking his tongue.
There were two kinds of math books: the first kind made you lose interest after reading the first page; the second kind made you lose interest after reading the first sentence.
But these books belonged to a third kind: you lost interest just from reading the title.
Zhang Yuan braced himself and opened one at random.
On one page, one line read: "For a prime p, the inverse limit of (Z/p^nZ)n≥1..."
"1/5 =...5412541254125412"
It wasn't English, and it wasn't an alien language, either. Yet string any few characters together and he couldn't understand a thing. Why on earth was the ellipsis in front of the number?
In the blank space on the page, someone had written a neat little note: "...I have a better idea for the problem of p-adic integers, but unfortunately there isn't enough space here to write it down."
A pulse throbbed a few times in Zhang Yuan's forehead. He sighed and gave up trying to understand it.
As for why there were books like these in his home, the answer was obvious: they'd been left behind by his godlike father.
As his father used to say, "All the problems in the world ultimately fall into two categories: philosophical problems and mathematical problems. Master math, and everything you do will become easier..."
That was right. Zhang Yuan was the son of a scientist.
The upside was that he'd received the best education from a young age and developed plenty of good habits.
The downside was that when your innate intelligence was only average, you could end up feeling like a moron. Even though he'd worked hard, gotten into a decent university, and graduated with excellent grades, compared with his father, he still felt like an idiot.
Sometimes the gap in intelligence between two people was greater than the gap between a person and a dog...
Ding-dong, ding-dong.
Just then, the shrill doorbell rang, pulling him out of his thoughts.
Zhang Yuan jumped up from his chair and opened the door. A delivery robot was standing outside.
"Hello, Mr. Zhang Yuan. You have a delivery. Please accept it!" This kind of six-axis robot, equipped with self-driving technology, could already handle simple physical tasks. Decades ago, large numbers of delivery workers had been replaced by robots and laid off, sparking massive protests at the time—abroad, of course.
"For me?"
To cut costs, delivery robots had only basic AI and lacked complex abilities like language comprehension.
"Hello, Mr. Zhang Yuan. You have a delivery. Please accept it!"
Zhang Yuan checked the sender's name. It was the Donghua City Law Firm, and his heart skipped a beat.
"What's going on? A lawyer's letter? Did I break the law?"
"Hello, Mr. Zhang Yuan. You have a delivery. Please accept it!" The robot just kept repeating itself mechanically.
"..."
After he scanned his fingerprint and confirmed that he was the recipient, the robot handed him a large package.
The door slammed shut behind him. Feeling a little nervous, Zhang Yuan hurriedly opened the package.
If he'd somehow broken the law, his access to the ship might be revoked. That was the last thing he wanted.
On top was a paper letter: "Dear Mr. Zhang Yuan, these are items your father entrusted us to keep. His will was to take effect only when you were about to leave Earth..."
He relaxed. So it was a "gift" from his father.
Inside were a foldable tablet and a cold metal box. Dry ice inside the package still billowed with a chilling mist.
He turned on the tablet.
"Zhang Yuan!"
A familiar figure appeared on the screen. It was his old man.
"Dad," Zhang Yuan murmured as he looked at the screen.
The middle-aged man on the screen smiled. "I haven't been feeling well lately. I may be nearing the end. Time to go meet Einstein..."
"..."
"...If you plan to stay on Earth and live an ordinary life, I think the assets I've left you should be enough to last for a while."
That was true. His father had left him a house in Donghua City and several million Federal Credits—enough to find a wife and raise a child.
"...If you plan to leave with the Earth Era, then these assets won't be of much use. Just donate them. Knowledge is the only thing that truly matters."
Zhang Yuan gave a wry smile. It seemed he and his father had thought alike.
"I don't think I taught you nearly enough. You seem pretty hardworking, but in many fields, one percent talent matters more. You don't have a talent for research. You're just an ordinary person..."
Zhang Yuan awkwardly scratched his head, utterly unruffled.
Maybe he'd been criticized so often growing up that his skin had become thicker than a pig's. I may not be a genius, but at least I'm not stupid. Otherwise, how could I have passed the astronaut exam? I'm doing fine, aren't I?
Zhang Yuan was just a little confused about what his dead father was up to. Why send him a computer to insult him at the last minute?
His father rambled on for a while before finally getting to the point. "Ahem... This computer contains some of my thoughts and ideas. They include work in artificial intelligence, robotics algorithms, and some other cutting-edge technologies that haven't been published yet. You can take a look."
Those were good things!
"...Don't think you're getting a free ride. They're not finished. If you're interested, you can try to complete them. Consider it a little gift from me. Of course, if you can't understand the material, copying it won't do you any good."
Once he started talking about his academic work, his father went on and on, as if nothing else could inspire him to chat.
After a while, a faint flush came over his father's face, and he began to look tired.
"...Oh, right. There's a... drug in that metal box."
His expression turned a little strange. After a pause, he said, "...There's a 35% chance it'll make you smarter, a 50% chance it won't change anything, and a 15% chance it'll make you dumber!"
"If you're unhappy with your current intelligence, you could give it a try."
"You're responsible for the consequences!"
Before you continue