"Huang the God!!"
A student in the auditorium shouted with fervor.
"Hell yeah!"
"Huang the God is invincible!!"
"Huang the God, I love you!"
"My god!"
"..."
The thunderous cheers and applause lasted dozens of seconds before gradually dying down. Chen Yue, dean of the School of Mathematics, jogged onto the stage and clasped Huang Tian's hands, visibly overcome with excitement.
"Congratulations! Congratulations!" he said, stumbling over his words.
"Thank you."
Only after holding Huang Tian's hands for a while did Chen Yue turn to the audience. "That concludes today's lecture. We'll continue tomorrow morning."
The question-and-answer session would begin tomorrow, but everyone could see that the Fields Medal winners and the assembled experts and scholars had largely accepted Huang Tian's proof concerning the Navier-Stokes Equations. With no major problems left, what remained was more or less a formality.
Before they dispersed, Edward Witten suggested, "At a historic moment like this, I think we ought to take a photograph to remember it."
Srinivasan was not particularly fond of Witten, but he nodded anyway. "A good suggestion."
Professor Drinfeld agreed. "It's rare for so many of the world's finest mathematicians to gather in one place. We really should take a photograph."
At past International Congresses of Mathematicians, group photographs were deliberately taken at the opening or closing ceremonies.
Prize-winning mathematicians, invited speakers, and attending scholars would stand together for a photograph, showing that mathematics knew no borders.
Fewer scholars had come to Capital University for this lecture than would attend the International Congress of Mathematicians, but their caliber was no lower. Fields Medal winners, first-rate mathematicians, and leading fluid physicists had all gathered under one roof.
Chen Yue said delightedly, "If no one minds taking a little time, we can take the group photograph here in the auditorium."
No one refused.