Chapter 20: The Pride of the Chinese People

"Zhengdao, have you met this person at Columbia University?"

Yang Chen-ning, standing in Tsung-Dao Lee’s office, gestured with a copy of the *New York Times*, pointing to a photograph of Lin Ran.

Tsung-Dao Lee and Yang Chen-ning had been awarded the Nobel Prize in Physics in 1957 for their work on parity non-conservation. Throughout the 1950s, they maintained a prolific academic collaboration, co-authoring over 30 scholarly papers. Their relationship would later fracture over authorship disputes—a rift widely considered a significant loss for the Chinese academic community. Both men possessed extraordinary physical intuition, though their strengths differed: Yang excelled in theoretical derivation, while Lee was a master of constructing experimental models.

At this moment, their relationship had not yet broken down. Yang was still working in Geneva, where his parents had visited multiple times to urge him to return to China; however, he had already made up his mind between China and America, opting to pursue opportunities in the United States. Consequently, he had spent the entire months of January and February in New York, meeting frequently with Lee.

Lee recognized the subject of the article immediately. There was not a single ethnic Chinese student or faculty member at Columbia who was unaware of this rising star in the world of mathematics. His sudden appearance had caused a sensation across the United States, and his youth and handsome appearance made him an absolute phenomenon within the Chinese community.

"I know him. Too many people want to meet Randolph. Every time I’ve gone to his office these past few days, he has been very polite, but the room is always packed with mathematicians. The problems they discuss are far too profound for me; I usually just have a cup of coffee and leave. I feel too embarrassed to stay for long—if I stayed any longer, I’d start to doubt my own intelligence. But I am planning to visit him tomorrow afternoon with Editor-in-Chief Huang. Would you like to join us?"

"Editor-in-Chief Huang?" Yang asked.

Lee nodded. "Huang Yunji, the editor of the *China Daily News*. He hopes to conduct an exclusive interview with Randolph. Randolph’s response was that 'there is no time like the present,' so it’s set for tomorrow afternoon."

*(Excerpt from the January 8, 1960 issue of the China Daily News)*

The *China Daily News* was somewhat unfamiliar to Lin Ran, but after a quick Google search, he realized the significance of the publication. It had deep ties to China; its inaugural motto in 1940 had been personally written by a certain leader, and the famous poem *Qing Ping Yue: Liupan Mountain* was first published in its pages. The founder of the paper had already returned to China to work and would soon become the first Deputy Secretary-General of the United Nations from the People’s Republic of China. After diplomatic relations between China and the United States were restored, the *China Daily News* provided comprehensive coverage of the reciprocal state visits, proving that it had held its ground through the turbulent decades of the 60s and 70s.

Lin Ran was intrigued and wanted to meet the editor.

"My apologies, this scene is far too rare; I simply must take a group photo of the three of you."

Inside Lin Ran’s office, after a brief exchange of pleasantries, Huang Yunji, editor of the *China Daily News*, pulled out a camera he had prepared in advance. "The three of you present here are the pride of the Chinese people. We’ve already decided on the headline for tomorrow’s front page: 'The Pride of the Chinese.' You three are, without a doubt, the true lights of our people!"

As the electric pulse ignited the magnesium powder, a brilliant flash of light filled the office, capturing the three men in this precious photograph.

"Please, could you provide me with your addresses? I will make sure to deliver these to you the moment they are developed," Huang said.

Lin Ran mused to himself, *I suspect this is the opportunity he was looking for to get me alone.*

While taking the photo was an important step—a group shot of the three of them would surely drive sales—it was likely more about using the delivery of the photos as a pretext for a private conversation later that evening.

"There is no time like the present," Huang suggested. "Since the three of you are here, why don't we conduct a joint interview? Even if the entire newspaper were filled with the three of you, I am certain our readers would love it."

Lin Ran replied, "I have no objection."

Lin having no objections, Yang and Lee were even more amenable; after winning the Nobel Prize, they had become accustomed to endless interview requests.

"Let’s start with Mr. Lin. Could you please give us a brief introduction?"

...

That evening, just as Lin had anticipated, Huang Yunji arrived at his residence with the developed photos.

"Mr. Lin, here are the photos. The three of you look truly radiant—you are outstanding representatives of our people." Huang’s flattery was constant, delivered with a refreshing, breeze-like grace.

Lin gazed at the photo in his hands, thinking that if he brought this to 2020, people would surely think it was AI-generated.

"Thank you, Editor Huang. Compared to the other two, I have only done some insignificant work." Lin felt that since he had merely transplanted Wiles’ results to 1960, he paled in comparison to the likes of Lee and Yang.

"No, no, no! The media is already saying that at the International Congress of Mathematicians two years from now, the Fields Medal will surely belong to you. You will become the first Chinese Fields Medalist," Huang insisted.

This was, in fact, true. Between Fermat’s Last Theorem and portions of the Langlands program, it would be impossible to justify not awarding him the Fields Medal.

Lin replied, "I hope your words come true."

After further pleasantries, Huang revealed his true intention: "Mr. Lin, what is your view on China?"

Lin paused for a moment before answering, "It has infinite potential. I hope that the motherland prospers."

Huang was clearly unsatisfied with this response. "Have you considered returning to the motherland to take a look for yourself?"

Lin shook his head. "The conditions are not yet ripe."

Huang did not press further and left shortly after. Lin knew the man would not give up so easily, and he had no intention of revealing his cards just yet. He knew too little about Huang’s background to trust him fully, especially with his imminent entry into NASA, which made his position even more sensitive.

China had persuaded Yang Chen-ning to return three times, even arranging for his parents to meet him in Geneva. It was clear they would not give up on a talent like Lin Ran so easily.

Standing by the second-floor window, Lin watched Huang’s retreating figure and sighed. "It is truly not the right time."

The next morning, the latest issue of the *China Daily News*, featuring the photograph of Lin, Lee, and Yang, hit the stands. In three days, it sold 200,000 copies across the United States. Given that there were fewer than 100,000 ethnic Chinese households in the country at the time, the paper sold double the number of existing households. Many families bought multiple copies—some to encourage their children to study hard, others as keepsakes, and some to mail to friends and family outside of the United States.

The front-page headline read: "The Pride of the Chinese in America."