The Answer to a Proof Problem

As a mathematics student, Lu Zhou naturally knew what Mersenne primes were.

After all, speaking of Mersenne primes, one had to mention a great Hua Nation mathematician and his 1992 publication, Distribution Law of Mersenne Primes, which turned Mersenne primes into a formula expressible through mathematical symbols—the conjecture internationally known as Zhou's Conjecture.

Before that, although British mathematician Shanks, French mathematician Tolota, German mathematician Berlichart, Indian mathematician Ramanujan, and American mathematician Gillies had each proposed their own conjectures, they all had one thing in common: they were expressed as approximations, and none came particularly close to reality.

Yet the precise formula of Zhou's Conjecture was very simple: when 2^(2^n)＜P＜2^(2^(n+1)), 2^(n+1)-1 of the MP were prime numbers.

It looked simple, didn't it?

I could do it too, right?

And yet, this one conjecture had still not been proven or disproven. It had become a famous mathematical problem, plaguing the entire mathematics community for over twenty years.

But like the Riemann Hypothesis, even though it could not be verified, that did not stop later generations from assuming it was true and putting it to use.

Of course, even with an exact formula, even with computers entrusted with the treasure hunt, discovering Mersenne primes was still no easy task.

As of now, in 2014, the mathematics community had discovered a total of forty-four Mersenne primes.

As for what Mersenne primes were useful for?

Apparently, nothing much.

If he had to name one use, the RSA algorithm counted. Every online purchase owed thanks to those huge prime numbers hidden within passwords that could not be factored. At the same time, large primes were also used to test computer performance. For example, Intel used the GIMPS program to test its chips, and bugs had even been discovered in Skylake chips through it.

Besides, there was little point in agonizing over whether mathematics was useful. Much of the time, the motivation driving mathematicians was not necessarily how much economic benefit they could gain from solving an equation, but simply because it was there.

On a grander scale, humanity could not live only for the struggles before its eyes. It also needed poetry and distant horizons.

But Lu Zhou was not having any of that. He did not want poetry or distant horizons; all he wanted was to survive what was right in front of him!

And why did it have to be a proof method for Zhou's Conjecture? Give him the Riemann Hypothesis instead! Or even the slightly easier Beal Conjecture!

Leaving aside its academic value, the reward for the Beal Conjecture had already risen to one million US dollars, personally offered by Bill, a well-known banker from Texas.

As for Zhou's Conjecture, plenty of people had tried to prove it, but no one seemed to be offering a reward for it.

Watching a whole apartment slip away just like that, Lu Zhou's mood instantly soured.

But looking on the bright side, even if it was only Zhou's Conjecture, proving it would still earn him a place in the history of mathematics. As for material rewards, while there was no bounty for this conjecture, the university surely would not treat him poorly. At the very least, his scholarships for the next three years were secure.

Wasn't Student Liu, who had proven the Sittapan Conjecture in his sophomore year, the best proof of that? Nanjing University had reportedly given him one million RMB outright, with five hundred thousand as research funding and five hundred thousand to improve his living conditions.

Jin University ranked among the top ten in the country, after all. Its mathematics department might have been a little weak, but even for the sake of its reputation, it could not possibly let Nanjing University, which ranked outside the top ten, outdo it, could it?

Thinking that way made Lu Zhou feel a little better.

Once he calmed down, he took out the proof process and gave it a glance.

Unlike the bottle of cola labeled [Trash], the Zhou's Conjecture Proof Method, which belonged to the broad category of [Blueprints], did not appear on paper or in an electronic file. Whenever he wanted to examine it, all he had to do was recite it silently in his mind, and the entire proof would appear directly in his thoughts.

"I can't understand any of this... Looks like it will take quite some time just to fully grasp this proof."

Lu Zhou pondered how to bring out the proof process in his possession naturally.

First, memorizing it was useless. He had to understand it himself.

Second, he had to package himself as a top student.

Forget anything else—if he could solve a mathematical problem like Zhou's Conjecture, he could not possibly fail to get full marks in Advanced Mathematics and Mathematical Analysis, right? Even if he carelessly lost one point on the written paper, he still had to score ninety-nine.

Lu Zhou was not too worried about that, though. Over the past two days, he had completely mastered both Mathematical Analysis and Advanced Algebra. University instructors generally would not deliberately make things difficult for students, and the knowledge tested would definitely be found in the textbooks.

A cooked duck was not going to fly away anyway. As for the proof of Zhou's Conjecture... Lu Zhou planned to bring it out after summer vacation ended. During these two months, he would do everything he could to package himself as a genuine academic prodigy and maximize the benefits he could gain.

He definitely needed to discuss academic problems with his instructors more often.

Mathematics LV1 was a must.

Staying at the university over summer vacation was also a must.

He would also have to call his parents. The next time he went home might be during the Lunar New Year.

With the matter of the reward temporarily settled, another question surfaced in Lu Zhou's mind.

Could the [Blueprints] obtained through the lottery be related to [Subject Levels]?

This question was crucial.

Otherwise, why was it such a coincidence that he had not drawn anything else, but had drawn the damn "answer to a proof problem"? Why not the grand prize, a "space battleship"?

Once this thought surfaced, he could not shake it off. The more Lu Zhou thought about it, the more likely it seemed.

"First things first, I need to raise my subject levels and get Mathematics to LV1 as soon as possible, then unlock the LV1 level cap for other subjects. Until then, should I stockpile lottery chances? But if I have unused lottery chances, I can't refresh the mission list. Stockpiling them isn't realistic either..."

He clearly remembered that after claiming the mission reward, the mission list had turned gray. Only after he used up his two lottery chances did the options on the mission list become selectable again.

As for that, he could only find out after drawing a few more times.

If the prizes for several consecutive draws were all "answers to proof problems," then his guess would undoubtedly be correct.

Besides, now that he thought about it, it seemed that new missions were available to claim.

What would they be?

Thinking this, Lu Zhou silently recited in his mind.

"Open the mission list!"

A translucent holographic screen appeared before him.

[

Mission 1: The Art of Fishing in Muddy Waters

Description: Fishing in muddy waters is an art too. If you can earn money while lying down, why bury your head in hard work in a laboratory?

Requirement: Skillfully make use of the art of language to get your name attached to a research project with research funding in the millions. Following the principle of putting in as little effort as possible, claim the greatest credit with the least energy expenditure. So fish as much as you can, young man!

Reward: Gain subject experience (the experience type is determined by the project type; the amount of experience is positively correlated with the research project's funding and negatively correlated with the host's level of contribution). One lottery chance (100% Trash)

]

[

Mission 2: Train the Basics Hard (Physics)

Description: Rome was not built in a day, and neither was the edifice of science.

Requirement: Solve 200 university physics problems (the exercise book will be provided by the system and tailored to the host based on the host's accumulated knowledge)

Reward: Problem difficulty coefficient * 2. 50 points. Item—Deep Learning Time (Category: Special. Effect: Effective duration: 24 hours. While active, reading books allows the user to enter a deep reading state and permanently master the knowledge learned.)

]

[

Mission 3: Academia Begins with Papers.

Description: Papers are the foundation of scholarship. A scholar who can only write papers may not necessarily accomplish great scholarship, but a scholar who cannot write papers definitely cannot accomplish great scholarship. Do not argue with the system about this—the system is truth! Now, publish an SCI paper and begin your academic career!

Requirement: Publish one SCI paper.

Reward: Subject experience (determined by academic value, with a minimum of 100 experience). 200 points. One lottery chance (95% Trash, 5% Sample).

]

Seeing the final mission, Lu Zhou's expression became somewhat strange.

The rewarded experience would be determined by the academic value of the paper?

If he published the proof process for Zhou's Conjecture in an SCI journal, how much experience would it earn him?

Thinking of it that way, the idea was rather tempting...