Smack—
Yunmi ruthlessly smacked Uhyeon on the back.
“Ow! That really hurts. Your hand is totally vicious, you know?”
Uhyeon jumped, rubbing his back.
“I’m gonna die!”
“But it all worked out, right?”
“Hah… I must be crazy. Making oppa meet the parents.”
There had been quite a commotion, and though he received sharp glares from Seoha’s parents, Uhyeon succeeded in persuading Seoha. In truth, it hadn’t even required persuasion.
‘There’s no way a genius like that could endure twelve meaningless years.’
Perhaps because it was something he had never once considered, Seoha wore a blank expression, but soon agreed that skipping grades was absolutely necessary for him.
But South Korea is among the most conservative nations when it comes to grade-skipping and early graduation.
Especially for elementary school grade-skipping, the standards are so strict that there are often years with not a single case nationwide. Though there was no reason Seoha couldn’t meet those requirements, it would drain unnecessary energy.
‘School isn’t a place where you only study, either.’
Learning minimal social skills and emotional development within peer groups are essential elements for human beings as well.
Thus, they agreed on six years of elementary school.
During the lower elementary grades, he would participate in major domestic competitions to make a name for himself, and in the year he became a sixth grader, he would conquer the world.
Uhyeon felt his heart flutter at the fact that he could consult on the future of the most brilliant child in the world.
“But I don’t want to go to America.”
His boldly stating his own opinion was rather a relief.
At first, Uhyeon had thought America was the only answer, but upon careful consideration, it wasn’t necessarily so. In America’s top-tier universities, early graduation was virtually impossible institutionally no matter how outstanding the student was…
“Okay. No problem. Of course, it would be good to go someday… Do you parents have any specific wishes?”
At Uhyeon’s words, the two hesitated for a moment before cautiously revealing their inner thoughts.
“If possible, we’d like him to graduate from a regular school rather than taking the GED. We know university is important, but school life only happens once in a lifetime, so it’s precious.”
Tap, tap.
Uhyeon drummed his index finger on the dining table.
“No problem.”
There probably weren’t many people who knew the gifted education system as well as he did. Uhyeon knew of an option that could satisfy both Seoha’s future and the parents’ wishes.
“Really?”
“There is a place called a gifted school.”
“Ah… I think I’ve heard of it. It seems like there was one nearby.”
Uhyeon nodded at Cheolho’s words.
“Yes, there are ones in Sejong, Incheon, and Busan, not far from here. The advantage of a gifted school is that it’s a special school, so the Elementary and Secondary Education Act doesn’t apply.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that as long as he graduates elementary school, there’s no issue with admission qualifications. He can legally skip the three years of middle school. Furthermore, since the gifted high school operates a joint program with KAIST, he can start taking university-level mathematics immediately upon enrollment. Of course, those credits can be recognized after university admission.”
“Oh! That’s convenient.”
Only now showing interest, Seoha’s eyes sparkled.
“Right? You can finish all your university coursework during the two years at the gifted high school, and then complete your master’s within two years of entering KAIST.”
If he used KAIST’s integrated bachelor’s-master’s program, it would be entirely possible. The professors would have no choice but to accept him.
“Th-then…”
As if anxious, Miyeong adjusted her posture.
“Seoha could become a KAIST master’s graduate at age sixteen. He won’t need a single penny. If he sets his mind to it, he can wring out scholarships from anywhere.”
“Is getting into a gifted school that easy?”
The couple still seemed worried.
There was no problem with admission itself. There was no way Seoha wouldn’t make it into the annual quota of several hundred students… The problem was himself.
Uhyeon grinned slyly.
“That’s why I plan to make it so no one can object.”
After finishing the sincere, all-out consultation, Yunmi was hungry.
They walked for a while and arrived at an empty lot where the car was parked.
“Get in, I’ll guide you to a famous restaurant.”
Uhyeon cheerfully climbed into Yunmi’s compact car.
“You sure it’s a good place?”
Yunmi ignored him, pulling the car out onto the road.
An awkward silence descended inside the car as they drove. While driving, Yunmi slowly looked back on what had happened today.
“Oppa.”
“Hmm?”
“You were kind of cool today.”
A choked-up emotion welled up inside Uhyeon.
“I’ve always been cool, you punk.”
Unfortunately, the local specialty fish noodle soup was not to his taste.
* * *
Four years later, Seoul National University, Gwanak Campus, Grand Auditorium.
“Our daughter, you’ll do well, right?”
Minji’s mother straightened her daughter’s collar. Though it was November, the air already carried a chill.
Two years ago, Minji had felt severe frustration after failing the science high school entrance exam.
‘What was I lacking…’
The first failure she had experienced in her life.
But Minji couldn’t accept defeat meekly.
‘I was solving calculus since I was ten, too.’
That winter break, she suppressed the inferiority complex that threatened to consume her and tried to turn it into motivation for studying.
For the following two years, Minji continued her bone-grinding efforts.
She wrestled with proof problems all night, and on weekends, she rode her mother’s car to participate in academic competitions held across the country.
The joy of her first award.
It was third place, but she was happier than ever before. Because beneath her were many science high school students.
‘As I thought, I wasn’t wrong.’
However, the more competitions she attended, the more her ranking dropped.
‘They’re here.’
They didn’t usually wear them, yet at times like this…
Science high school students entered in neatly dressed uniforms. Every time they walked, the atmosphere around them seemed to change. It was because the regular high school students, including herself, were murmuring.
But the best high school in the country was not that place.
“It’s the gifted high school.”
Someone whispered.
The assembly of Korea’s most brilliant minds.
She hadn’t even dared to entertain such ambition. Engaging in an invisible battle of nerves with the science high school students, they settled into seats on one side.
‘So you guys are human too.’
Minji fell into thought as she watched the science high school students revealing their discomfort.
This year, there were only two science high school students among the International Mathematical Olympiad representatives. The remaining spots were all taken by gifted high school students.
She had heard that this year, there was a genius selected as a representative from the gifted high school despite being a third-year middle schooler.
Minji searched for her without being obvious.
Im Sujeong.
The face she had seen in the article.
Small stature, skinny frame. A makeup-free face with hair tied back.
Perhaps due to a halo effect, she even radiated nobility.
‘She’s pretty, too.’
What would it feel like to become a national representative in mathematics at that age?
A sky beyond the sky, someone unreachable even in death.
There was a limit to studying born of stubborn pride. Once you knew such a being existed, you had no choice but to give up even if you didn’t want to.
‘Let’s make this the last competition.’
She had to prepare for university now.
She had started participating to resolve her inferiority complex, but she could also get bonus points for university admissions.
As she watched her, lost in thought, Sujeong’s head snapped around.
Then she scrunched up her pretty face ruthlessly.
‘What?’
Minji’s gaze followed Sujeong’s.
Trudge, trudge.
It was a boy who looked like an elementary schooler.
He had tucked a tacky-looking shirt into his jeans. He looked like a mini-me version of the currently trendy nerd guy, which made her want to laugh.
‘What grade is he? He’s pretty handsome.’
If she had a younger brother like that, dressing him up would be fun…
In truth, from Seoha’s perspective, his parents had put enormous care into selecting his outfit for going to Seoul. They had gone out to the town center and bought the prettiest clothes from the largest store.
Sujeong’s eyes watching the boy seemed to burn fiercely.
‘Ah!’
She remembered hearing something.
A rumor that since early this year, an elementary schooler had been appearing in important competitions and sweeping the grand prizes. She thought his name was Yu Seoha…
The look on Sujeong’s face made it seem like it wasn’t just a simple rumor.
As for the boy himself, he didn’t seem to care about anyone’s attention.
He glanced at his exam ticket and found his seat.
Minji watched him as if bewitched.
Seoha sat down and pulled a pencil from his pencil case. A low-grade pencil with a figurine attached.
‘A duck?’
‘Ah! I get it. If you lost to a kid like that, your mental would shatter too.’
Seoha looked out the window indifferently.
Over the past four years, his mathematics had undergone dramatic development.
Uhyeon had sent him books every month or two, and the contents were so fascinating that Seoha had counted the days until the books arrived.
A world entirely different from encyclopedias.
Graph theory and network science, Riemann and non-Euclidean geometry, even philosophical treatises on the history of mathematics and the lives of great mathematicians.
The bizarre dance of complex number matrices, the tricks of formulas that deceived intuition—the more he studied, the more Seoha fell into mathematics.
And finally, he realized that mathematics was a grand language that interpreted and reconstructed the world.
However, there was a minor side effect.
“Why did you solve this problem like this?”
Veins bulged at Uhyeon’s temples.
He had wanted to leave it be if possible, but he couldn’t just stand by and watch Seoha’s answer that stretched over ten pages for a proof that should have taken five lines. If he did this during a test, he might not finish in time.
But the young Seoha’s words pierced his vitals.
“Teacher. That proof is incredibly crude.”
Uhyeon examined the problem.
The proof of the general generating formula for Pythagorean triples.
“It’s the classical parameterization of the Pythagorean theorem. If you just use Euclid’s proof method, it takes five lines.”
“But that’s just applying a formula. If I want to show why this triangle has such a structure…”
Seoha drew a large right triangle with his pencil. And inside it, he drew a square.
“The reason this method is beautiful is that you can reach the conclusion using only the rotation of the square and the similarity of triangles. Geometry intuitively tells you everything.”
Seoha began geometric transformations on the shapes on the paper.
He rotated the square 90 degrees clockwise, and rearranged the right triangles based on the new hypotenuse it created. In that process, two squares merged with quadrilaterals of equal area and diverged into complex configurations.
‘Deriving integer conditions from similarity ratios…’
Insane. It’s genius.
Uhyeon realized he could no longer teach this child.
‘Seoha’s mathematical ego is growing day by day.’
“Now let’s enter competitions.”
‘The judges will be the ones to rack their brains. I really want to see whether you give the grand prize or not.’
He was curious how they would receive Seoha’s answers, which would be clearly different from the model answers.
Even if they were blind, for all their pretensions of being mathematicians, they wouldn’t dare resist.
“Yes!”
“Only the big competitions. Because the kids who have to compete against you are pitiful.”
They would skip the city-level competitions.
He didn’t want the image of fresh sprouts being crushed by a truck. Of course, there would be victims, but they too would soon accept it as a natural disaster.
There was still a year and a half until elementary school graduation.
The Olympiad selection process, which took a full year, could start next year.
‘Before that, I’ll drop a bomb first to give the math world’s old guard a chance to mentally prepare as well.’