Chapter 24
As everyone probably expected, the conversation with Reporter Lee Dong-hyun was not ad-libbing but a script we had prepared in advance.
A normal person would never imagine that the five-year-old kid in front of them was the author of that much-talked-about paper, right?
So I deliberately left my name out and took part in the conversation.
‘Might as well get treated to some delicious strawberry bomb cake while I'm at it. Hee-hing.’
Anyway.
Reporter Lee Dong-hyun would bring a ton of TV station cameras to the lecture hall where I would present the proof of the Riemann hypothesis.
Of course, as just a reporter for one media outlet, he didn't have the authority to do that.
But with a reporter that determined, I figured he'd somehow manage to bring a network along.
Look at that look in his eyes—so hungry for success.
I can't even tell how badly he wants to succeed.
“A-yeon. Everything worked out the way you wanted, right?”
“Yeah! Thanks for helping, Mom!”
Ah, right. I'd forgotten something.
I still hadn't explained the biggest premise behind our earlier conversation—namely, that Yoo A-yeon would be giving the lecture.
Of course, I didn't have the power to hold a big lecture. Mom didn't either.
But before we even asked, Professor Park Mu-yeol offered first.
He asked whether we could hold a lecture showing the process of proving the Riemann hypothesis.
What's more, since he knew full well that we didn't have the power to gather mathematicians, Professor Park even said he'd use his academic connections to hold a large lecture for us.
Normally, if you said you were going to put a five-year-old kid on a lecture stage, it would hurt Professor Park's reputation.
But Professor Park was not only a renowned professor; he was also a mathematician with intellectual curiosity.
He probably simply wanted to watch the process of the Riemann hypothesis being solved with his own eyes.
So he took the risk of tarnishing his own reputation and made the offer to us.
That meant he must have judged my paper to be that solid.
Our interests aligned.
Naturally, there was no reason to refuse.
“Heehee. So this is the big honey pot. Ahh~ the power of connections is just too sweet-!”
“A-yeon, bad words!”
“Eek! Sorrryyy...”
I got scolded by Mom... sniff.
“But, A-yeon. Can you really give a good lecture in front of so many people? That's what I'm worried about.”
A place where everyone's eyes gather is a scary place.
There's a reason stage fright exists.
Mom was worried about me standing in such a lecture hall.
Above all, Mom had once gone to an overseas academic conference as a graduate student and given a presentation in English, so she probably understood that fear better than anyone.
“Come on, it's okay, Mom! In my past life I was Professor Shin I-jun! I lectured to college students, and I even went through my dissertation defense when I was a PhD student! Presenting in front of people is a piece of cake!”
“Still... Mom's worried about you, A-yeon. That was something the past-life Professor Shin I-jun overcame, not something the current Yoo A-yeon overcame herself, right? It doesn't seem like A-yeon's body remembers that experience.”
“Hmm...”
Mom had a point.
The fear of being surrounded by countless eyes.
The fear of your reputation collapsing.
From an evolutionary psychology perspective, that's a fear humans feel at a primal level.
For humankind, being surrounded by predators or being cast out of the group because your reputation had soured was effectively a death sentence.
When our brains face such a situation, they activate the sympathetic nervous system for survival, and as a result, the heartbeat quickens and the voice starts to tremble.
And in modern times, that survival instinct has become stage fright.
Even when we know we're safe, the amygdala reacts unconsciously.
Even people who are used to being onstage, like actors and entertainers, aren't born without fear of the stage; they've simply experienced it so much that the fear has gone dull.
So.
Even if Professor Shin I-jun's body had overcome the stage, there was no guarantee that Yoo A-yeon's body wouldn't tremble onstage.
The amygdala is a body part you can train, too.
You couldn't solve this just by bulldozing through it with mental toughness.
“Then what do I do, Mom? If I go ahead and give the lecture like this, I might end up shivering and crying like Arin, left alone in a kids' café...!
Then people will be like, ‘Who even brought that noisy kid along?’ and make fun of me like crazy...! I'd be so embarrassed I'd be pounding the blanket for days...!”
It was a terrifying thought.
For the five years I'd lived as Yoo A-yeon, I'd written the paper while imagining thunderous applause from everyone.
But what if I actually stood on the lecture stage and ended up bawling, ‘Waaah, Mommyyy, I'm scared’?
Then instead of getting tons of applause, I'd end up with people questioning the paper's authenticity...
And then Mom would be pointed at as a crazy child abuser who put a clueless five-year-old up as a paper first author... and Professor Park Mu-yeol would probably be suspected of having dementia...
Just to keep the people helping me from getting dragged into controversy.
I had a duty to show overwhelming ability in the lecture hall.
I had to show countless people that I had an IQ of 160, could speak seven languages fluently, and, most importantly, could explain the proof of the Riemann hypothesis clearly and without a single logical flaw.
‘Ah, a real five-year-old really wrote this whole paper because she's insanely smart. The kid's mom isn't crazy and Professor Park Mu-yeol doesn't have dementia either. That's amazing. Is Yoo A-yeon a goddess? We should give thunderous applause to the cutest, smartest Yoo A-yeon in the world.’
I could make them think that.
“That's right, A-yeon. For now, let's not hold the lecture right away. I think we should prepare thoroughly until you're satisfied.”
In the end, unlike me, who was only looking at ideals, Mom's worries were realistic.
“I guess we'll have to ask Professor Park Mu-yeol to wait juuuust a little longer...”
I had to prepare enough to stay calm and control my emotions, even if my amygdala overreacted, and to be able to give a lecture in front of hundreds of people without any problem.
✒️✒️✒️
Arin's brain-activation plan was proceeding smoothly.
We were also playing all kinds of board games together, and I was teaching her chess in between.
“Dad! Take my castling!”
“Arin, just because you can castle only once in a game doesn't make it some kind of special move.”
“Then to me, it's a special move!”
“Aaaagh! Arin's special move is too stronggg-!”
“Heehee.”
Dad was in charge of teaching Arin chess.
Honestly, I didn't know much about chess either.
I only knew the names of the pieces and the movement rules as general knowledge; I didn't actually know how to win.
For one thing.
When I lived as Shin I-jun, chess was a minor game, so I didn't really have a chance to learn it.
And after Yoo A-yeon was born in 2020, I spent my growing-up years mostly reading books.
But Dad had watched the Nflix drama, ‘The Queen's Gambit,’ in 2020 and enjoyed it so much that he got into chess just as the trend was taking off.
A five-year chess player.
He was the perfect teacher for Arin.
“Don't worry about skill. Your dad's online chess app rating is in the 1800s.”
“How good is that, exactly?”
“Top 0.83 percent. In LoL terms, you'd call that Diamond.”
“Oooh! That's super good!”
“Heh heh heh. I get overshadowed by my daughters, but this dad's pretty smart too, you know?”
I had memories of Dad from our science high school days: we used to skip evening study hall in secret and play LoL together at a PC bang.
We were both secretly not very good at games, so I think we hovered somewhere between Silver and Gold.
Back then, Diamond was basically a superstar.
The Diamond you couldn't reach in LoL—now you had it in chess.
Way to go, Dad.
I'll give you some head pats as a reward.
Pat-pat.
“So, A-yeon, let's learn chess together with Arin, too.”
Dad suggested that while I was patting him.
“Eh... too much work.”
Chess is a high-difficulty game with a BGG difficulty rating of 3.6. That means it takes a lot of time to learn.
With a good teacher like Dad, you don't need my help anymore, do you?
Honestly, I had stage fright to overcome and a presentation to prepare for right in front of me, so spending that time on something else seemed better...
“Unnie, unnie!”
Arin ran up to me.
“Eek.”
“Let's learn chess together, okay?”
Arin was looking at me with sparkling eyes.
If Arin had had a puppy tail, it would have been wagging furiously.
‘Ugh... I can't say no when Arin looks at me like that...’
“Mom agrees too.”
“Oh, Mom?”
“Think about it, A-yeon. Right now our family is considering a chess club to build Arin's social skills, right?”
“Yeah, that's right.”
“And you also have the task of overcoming stage fright. To do that, shouldn't you naturally be exposed to places with lots of people more often?”
“Gasp... now that you mention it!”
“You haven't been going out at all, always saying you like staying home. This is the perfect chance to go with Arin. Then Arin, who really loves her unnie, will be motivated too.”
“Chess! Chess!”
Arin giggled brightly and burrowed into my arms.
And so.
I began learning chess from Dad together with Arin.