The French Open qualifying rounds have begun.
But this has nothing to do with Cheng Che.
He was a seeded player and qualified directly for the main draw.
During the qualifying rounds, he stayed in the hotel, practicing for two hours every morning at the training ground and then reading in his room in the afternoon.
He was flipping through an English monograph on algebraic geometry, with a notebook open beside him containing a few lines of formulas and arrows.
Once his intelligence reached 90, his comprehension speed and reasoning ability clearly improved significantly.
Problems that used to require Scratch Paper to solve can now be solved using only one's own brain.
He is currently considering the topic for his second paper.
The Fields Medal came later.
He only needs to produce a paper of a lower caliber than the [ Integer-Coefficient Polynomial Root Distribution Conjectures ].
Just then, my phone rang.
Pei Jingshu.
He answered the phone, and a slightly non-standard but much more fluent Chinese voice came from the other end.
Guess where I am?
Cheng Che was taken aback.
Pei Jingshu used to speak Korean on the phone, occasionally throwing in a few Chinese words, but she never spoke in complete sentences in Chinese.
Although the sentence had a slight accent, the pronunciation was very clear, and there was an undisguised sense of pride in the tone.
He suddenly heard a sound outside, then sat up straight and said in disbelief:
You've come to Paris?
There was a pause on the other end of the phone, then Pei Jingshu laughed triumphantly, "Congratulations, you got it right."
Cheng Che stood up, closed the book, and asked anxiously, "Are you at the airport?"
"Yes," Pei Jingshu said, her voice carrying a very obedient tone, "I just landed at Charles de Gaulle Airport."
I'll come pick you up.
"Um."
After hanging up the phone, Cheng Che stood by the window, looking at the Paris street scene outside, his heart churning with emotions.
He smiled, touched his warm heart, and then made a phone call to Qin Lie.
After listening, Qin Lie replied, "Okay, I'll arrange a car."
Then he paused for a moment and said, "I'll have Wilson send a local driver, and Zhao Gang will go with him, but he won't drive; his Xia Country driver's license isn't valid in France."
Cheng Che hummed in agreement. "Okay."
Wilson was assigned a France driver named Pierre, who was in his fifties and had been driving in Paris for over twenty years. He knew the roads around Charles de Gaulle Airport very well.
Zhao Gang sat in the passenger seat, in charge of security, his eyes fixed on the outside of the window.
When the car arrived at the airport, Cheng Che asked Pierre to wait in the parking lot while he led Zhao Gang toward the arrival gate.
He was wearing a hat and a mask, with only his eyes showing, and stood on the side of the crowd of people waiting to greet them, looking inside.
Pei Jingshu walked out of the exit, dragging a small carry-on suitcase. Her hair was tied in a ponytail, and she was wearing a white T-shirt and jeans. She had little makeup on, but her eyes were incredibly bright.
She walked along, looking around as if searching for something in the crowd.
Then her gaze fell on Cheng Che.
He was wearing a mask and a hat, completely covered up, so his face was not visible at all.
But the moment those star-like eyes met hers, she recognized them.
In the whole world, only her beloved Cheng Che has such beautiful eyes.
She was as happy as a child, dragging her suitcase and running to Cheng Che. As soon as she got to the suitcase, she threw herself into his arms.
Cheng Che was knocked back half a step by her, but then steadied himself and reached out to put his arm around her waist.
Pei Jingshu buried her face in his chest and whispered, "I'm here."
The warm embrace softened Cheng Che's eyes, and he hugged her tightly. "I'm so glad you came."
Pei Jingshu gave a muffled "hmm" in his arms, then looked up at him with bright eyes, a smirk on her lips, and an expression that said, "Am I awesome or not?"
Cheng Che looked at her and smiled.
"Let's go, we'll talk in the car."
Once in the car, Pei Jingshu sat in the back seat, leaning on Cheng Che's shoulder, and began to recount the embarrassing things that had happened to her along the way.
On the flight from Seoul to Paris, I sat next to an elderly France lady. She didn't speak Korean or English, and I didn't speak French. The two of us communicated the whole way using sign language and a mobile phone translator.
Finally, the old lady drew a smiley face on a napkin and handed it to her, which she still hasn't been able to bear throwing away.
Halfway through her sentence, she pulled out a napkin and showed it to Cheng Che. It had a crooked smiley face drawn on it, along with a few French words she couldn't understand.
Cheng Che glanced at it and smiled indulgently.
He used to find it nauseating when he saw other people with that kind of smile.
Now he's laughing out loud, exactly the same way.
It turns out that being in love can turn you into the kind of person you used to find disgusting, and you might even feel quite comfortable with it.
Pierre glanced at the back seat in the rearview mirror and mumbled something in French. Zhao Gang didn't understand, but judging from his expression, he was probably smiling.
Upon arriving at the hotel, Cheng Che asked the receptionist to give Pei Jingshu the same type of room, right across from his.
Qin Lie stood to the side, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he didn't speak.
He glanced at Cheng Che, then at Pei Jingshu, silently handed over the room key, and turned to leave.
Pei Jingshu followed Cheng Che into his room, leaned the suitcase against the wall, and then collapsed onto the bed, burying her face in the pillow and muttering, "So soft."
Cheng Che put her suitcase away, then glanced at his watch. "Go to sleep if you're sleepy. I'll read for a while longer."
Pei Jingshu nodded and hummed in agreement.
Cheng Che turned around and went to the bathroom to wash his face.
When he came out, there was a bulge in the blanket.
Pei Jingshu's clothes were neatly folded and placed on the chair next to the bed, and the blanket was pulled up to her neck, leaving only her head exposed.
Her eyes were closed, her breathing was very light, she was already asleep.
Cheng Che dimmed the lights, sat on the sofa by the window, opened a book, and continued reading.
When Pei Jingshu woke up, it was already dark.
She opened her eyes, saw the unfamiliar ceiling, paused for a moment, and then sat up abruptly.
Then she saw Cheng Che.
He sat on the sofa by the window, holding a book in his hand, with a cup of tea that had gone cold beside him.
The light shone on his profile, making him appear as serene as a painting.
Pei Jingshu felt relieved immediately.
She stretched, got out of bed, shuffled over to Cheng Che in her slippers, sat down, hugged his arm, and rested her face on his shoulder.
Cheng Che turned his head and glanced at her.
She had just woken up; her hair was a little messy, and there were pillow marks on her face, but her eyes were bright, like a cat that had just woken up.
He closed the book, placed it beside him, and looked down at her.
"You can come back with me then."
Pei Jingshu looked up at him, her eyes lighting up. "Really?"
"Okay. After the French Open, I'll go back, and you'll come with me."
Pei Jingshu excitedly took out her phone, scrolled through it, then stood up and dialed a number.
After the call connected, she spoke a few words in Korean, quickly and excitedly.
After hanging up the phone, Pei Jingshu sat back down next to him, hugged his arm, and smiled broadly, "I used my annual leave too. My supervisor asked me why, and I said there were things to do at home."
Cheng Che smiled.
Of course he understands Korean; Pei Jingshu was talking about traveling with her family.
"Lie."
"It's not a lie," Pei Jingshu said matter-of-factly. "My boyfriend is family too."
Cheng Che didn't reply, but he hugged Pei Jingshu's shoulders tightly.
Pei Jingshu sensed Cheng Che's tacit agreement and happily tilted her head, resting on his shoulder.
The French Open main draw began the following day.