Chapter 64
Not long after we returned to Korea.
Mom came in holding an envelope she had taken from the mailbox.
"Ayeon, you got a letter."
"Huh? I got a letter?"
I took the envelope with my name written on it.
The sender was the neighborhood community center near our house.
Riiip-!
I tore open the envelope and pulled the paper out.
[School Enrollment Notice]
"Huh. A school enrollment notice?"
That's the thing they send when you're supposed to enter elementary school.
I widened my eyes and read the notice.
…………………………………………………………
Guardian names: Han Seol-ae, Yu Jin-hoo
Child to be enrolled: Yu Ayeon
Resident registration number: 200411 - 4XXXXXX
Eligible elementary schools: XX Elementary School, OO Elementary School
Pursuant to Article 13 of the Elementary and Secondary Education Act, the above child has been assigned to one of the schools listed above, so the guardian is requested to bring this notice to the pre-enrollment orientation day of the eligible school and have the child enroll.
…………………………………………………………
Come to think of it.
I, Yu Ayeon, was born in 2020.
As of 2026, I was six years old.
And next year, in 2027, I'd turn seven.
That would make me old enough to enter elementary school.
"Me... elementary school...?"
I ran a simulation in my head.
Sitting at a desk, doing dictation.
The teacher teaching arithmetic.
Singing 'Nabiya Nabiya' in music class.
"Ugh... just imagining it is boring."
Besides, I've proven the Riemann theorem and published a paper in a top-tier math journal, haven't I?
And I'm supposed to go learn ga-na-da-ra and ABCD?
…Right.
Honestly, let's say I could somehow manage that.
Even the little kids in Daechi-dong these days have already finished studying ahead through high school material.
But hanging out and playing with kids my own age? I seriously couldn't do it. That was just way too much.
How did Conan manage to have the mindset of a genius high school detective and still get along so well with first-grade kids... Absolutely ridiculous.
"Waaah... I don't wanna go to elementary school-!"
I made a thoroughly wronged face.
My grievance score was a perfect 100 out of 100.
I looked at Mom.
Mom read my expression and said,
"Looks like we need a family meeting."
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That evening.
The four of us sat around the dining table.
Arin, reading the mood, sat quietly.
Dad took the enrollment notice and read it.
"Ayeon has to enter elementary school next year?"
"Yeah."
I crossed my arms.
Then I snorted loudly so everyone could hear.
"I don't wanna go to school!"
Dad shrugged and played along.
"Well, I agree too. Honestly, Ayeon going through an elementary school curriculum would be a waste of time."
Mom nodded too.
"We all know Ayeon is on her second life already. Going to school twice would be meaningless."
I said with my arms still folded,
"Exactly! A genius with an IQ of 160 like me going to elementary school would be a loss to the nation!"
Dad rested his chin on his hand and thought.
"Hmm... what should we do in this case? What happens if we just ignore it and don't go?"
Mom held up her phone and said,
"I saw on a moms' café that if you don't send a child to school, you can even be criminally punished for child abuse."
At that, Dad stiffened.
"Really?"
"Yeah. As long as you're a Korean citizen, you have the duty to receive an education. Looks like parents not sending their kids to school isn't something they just overlook."
She was right.
Article 31, Paragraph 2 of the Constitution.
All citizens have the duty to ensure that the children they protect receive at least an elementary education and the education prescribed by law.
Article 13 of the Elementary and Secondary Education Act.
Guardians must enroll their children in school.
If they violated that, they'd be fined.
If they kept violating it, the police could go BAM BAM BAM BAM!!! FBI OPEN UP!!!, smash the door to pieces, and storm into the house.
Oh, right.
That's the American police I'm talking about.
Since this is Korea, they'd probably come in all polite, like, "Knock, knock, knock—open the door, police. Are you Yu Ayeon's parents?"
Of course, that's terrifying in its own way.
"This isn't something we can just ignore and brush off."
The table fell silent for a moment.
Scratch-scratch-
Dad scratched his head and said,
"But sending Ayeon straight to elementary school is a bit much too."
"Right. Ayeon would get super bored too."
"Isn't there some way? Like grade skipping or early graduation?"
Mom started searching for something on her phone.
She scrolled down and frowned.
"From what I found, the rules are pretty complicated."
"Where, where? ...I don't really understand."
The hard legal language didn't come easily to Mom and Dad, who had science-minded brains. Of course, I was the same.
"Hmm... since it's a legal matter, it'd be better to ask Aunt Jina."
So in the end, we decided to ask our law-savvy Aunt Jina.
Dad took his phone and left the living room.
뚜루루루-.
A moment later, we heard the call connect.
"Hey, Jina, it's me. Ayeon's school notice came, and I wanted to ask you something."
I looked down at the school notice on the table.
Arin said quietly beside me,
"Sis, do you not want to go to school?"
"Yeah."
"But what kind of place is school?"
Arin had never even gone to kindergarten and was educated only at home, so she didn't really know what school was.
"A place where they gather 20 kids born in the same year as Arin in one room and teach them arithmetic and dictation."
"...? Why would you learn arithmetic at seven? I learned that when I was two."
"That's what the country decided."
For the record, since Mom and I were personally teaching Arin on a custom curriculum,
even at age four, she'd reached the point where she could calculate determinants in her head.
"...Still, isn't it a bit much to make a four-year-old solve determinants?"
"Shut up!"
She's my little sister, so teaching her is my call!
"If Arin has to go to school three years from now, she'd have to solve fifty two-digit addition and subtraction problems every day."
"Ehh... that sounds boring just hearing about it..."
Arin made a slightly sour face.
"Right? Now you get why I said I didn't want to go?"
"Yeah. You're the genius who solved the Riemann theorem. Just imagining such a great sister having to do fifty addition and subtraction problems a day for homework makes me mad, too."
Muu-.
Arin puffed out her cheeks, practically radiating anger.
"Hehe, thanks, Arin. To think you'd even get mad on my behalf."
"Hehe."
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Meanwhile,
Not long after the news that Yu Ayeon had solved the Riemann theorem and received the Clay Mathematics Institute's $1 million Millennium Prize spread around the world.
Prestigious universities all over the world began scrambling to bring Yu Ayeon over by any means possible.
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Princeton University president's office.
The president summoned the vice president and the head of the math department.
"What happened with the Yu Ayeon matter?"
The department chair said,
"We sent an email to Ms. Seol-ae Han's account. We proposed a research professor position with no teaching duties and matched the salary as much as possible, but there has still been no reply."
"Other universities are making moves too, right?"
"Of course. We couldn't just sit still in this situation, so we sent it, but competition will be tough."
The president thought for a moment and said,
"Let's raise the offer. Whatever conditions she wants, tell her we'll accept them. Offer the most prestigious endowed professorship Princeton can give."
"That much? Yu Ayeon is still only a six-year-old child..."
"She's not a six-year-old child; she's a mathematician who solved the Riemann theorem. If she becomes part of our university, that alone will raise Princeton's reputation. She's worth that much. Thirty years ago, the previous president reportedly made the exact same offer to hire Sir Andrew Wiles."
The vice president jotted down notes and said,
"I'll send another email."
✒️✒️✒️
Harvard University's president's office.
The atmosphere there was much the same too.
"Still no reply?"
"Yes. We sent it to Ms. Seol-ae Han's account, but there's still no reply."
The president said,
"Maybe she's too busy to have read it yet."
"I don't know. The other universities are probably all in the same situation."
"I suppose we'll just have to wait. We've already opened the conditions to the maximum."
"Yes. We included research funding, a private lab, and full authority over salary negotiations. We also included our intent to special-hire her, skipping all the administrative procedures, paperwork, and degree verification required for faculty hiring."
The president looked over the documents and said,
"It would be wonderful if we could bring Yu Ayeon to Harvard."
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Oxford University.
The head of the math department reported to the vice provost.
"We sent an email too. We offered a research fellow position with no teaching duties so she could focus entirely on research."
"Has there been a reply?"
"No."
The vice provost was silent for a moment.
But then the department chair cut in.
"Um, Vice Provost."
"What is it?"
"At this point, bringing Yu Ayeon to our university seems practically impossible."
The vice provost raised an eyebrow.
"Of course, the other universities are all probably scrambling to lure her with enormous offers. Are you saying Oxford can't compete?"
"Ah, no. That's not what I mean."
The department chair paused for a moment and then said,
"Yu Ayeon is currently subject to Korea's compulsory education."
"...What? ...Compulsory education?"
"Yes. Yu Ayeon currently has a duty to enter elementary school. If that binding obligation isn't resolved, having Yu Ayeon affiliated with a foreign university could create legally complicated problems."
The vice provost was silent for a while.
"So..."
"Yes."
"A mathematician who proved the Riemann theorem."
"Yes."
"Has to go to elementary school?"
"That's right."
The vice provost slowly leaned back in his chair.
Then he let out a deep sigh.
"…… Good heavens."
The department chair said quietly,
"I think we should keep the emails open for now, so we can contact her again once this issue is resolved."
"Let's do that."
The vice provost looked out the window.
Elementary school.
A place he had already graduated from forty years ago.
And now a mathematician who proved the Riemann theorem had to go there.
It was truly ironic.