Chapter 19: Gaining a Little Renown

Visa applications are something Zhou Yun must handle himself, but for international conferences, the school must provide certain supporting documents.

Deng Yonghua decided to handle these matters for Zhou Yun personally. He had experience with this process; if left to a student, it would be troublesome and not guaranteed to pass. The administrative efficiency of the school was notoriously poor, and without constant follow-ups, things could easily drag on for a month or two. It was better to just do it himself. These documents, such as enrollment certificates and funding proof, followed standard templates and were quick to fill out.

After printing and organizing the necessary materials, Deng Yonghua headed to the administration building to get the official seals.

"Professor Deng." A teacher wearing glasses greeted him at the entrance of the office. It was Zhao Weilun, a junior faculty member in the Dean's research group, whose office was right next to Deng’s.

"Professor Zhao," Deng Yonghua replied out of habit.

"You seem to be in a good mood today, Professor Deng?" Zhao Weilun noticed a persistent smile on Deng’s face, a rare sight. They saw each other every day, and Deng was usually quite serious; he rarely looked this happy, though he had been smiling much more often in the last two months.

"Oh? Is it that obvious?"

"Any good news? A busy man like you is here to get stamps in person?" Zhao Weilun teased.

"Sigh, it’s not really anything special." Deng hadn't intended to bring it up, but since he was asked, he couldn't help but share.

"There must be something good. Tell me?"

"Alright, let's talk about it." The two walked toward the office together. "The reviews for NeurIPS have been coming in, right?"

"Yeah. Dean Lin submitted a paper, but it only got a 5.3 rating, so it’s not guaranteed. He’s busy making his students write rebuttals, hoping to bump the score. How about your group? Did you submit to NeurIPS too?" Zhao Weilun looked curious. He knew Deng’s field was network security. Usually, people in that field targeted the "Big Four" conferences (S&P, USENIX, CCS, NDSS). Why was he asking about NeurIPS?

"It’s a pity about the Dean's paper. A student in my group also submitted to NeurIPS. We just got the reviews back, so I’m just helping with the visa paperwork."

"What? You submitted to NeurIPS? The scores just came out, and you’re already rushing to handle the paperwork?"

Facing Zhao’s question, Deng Yonghua remained silent, simply walking ahead.

"Wait a second!" Zhao realized what was happening. "What was the score?"

Deng Yonghua nodded slightly. The student was teachable—he thought he would have to say it himself, but that wouldn't have been as satisfying. He replied calmly, "7.8. It shouldn't be a wasted effort."

"7.8!" Zhao Weilun’s eyes widened. "That’s not just 'shouldn't be wasted'—that’s a guaranteed acceptance! Congratulations in advance, Professor Deng!"

Deng Yonghua feigned modesty. "The official notification hasn't arrived yet. It's too early to pop the champagne."

Zhao Weilun laughed, realizing Deng was showing off. "Alright, alright, I know you're being modest. But I didn't realize you were doing AI. Why the sudden pivot to NeurIPS?"

"It wasn't me. I took on a few new students, and this was done by one of the freshmen. I just looked over the paper; it really had nothing to do with me."

Zhao Weilun clearly didn't believe him, assuming Deng was just being humble. "Stop joking. Even some of the professors in the department couldn't pull that off, let alone a freshman. That’s NeurIPS we’re talking about."

Deng shook his head. "It really was the student. You know me—if I had done the work myself, would I need to lie to you?"

"Really?"

"Absolutely!"

"Hiss..." Zhao Weilun gasped. "A student like that came to our school?"

"What's wrong with our school? We have a decent reputation in Hangzhou, you know."

Zhao Weilun rolled his eyes. The school had a reputation, but what did that have to do with their computer science department? "You’ve really struck gold."

"Luck, just good luck!" The colleague's praise was very satisfying to Deng Yonghua.

In truth, it wasn't just luck. After all, with so many professors in the school, why did Zhou Yun choose Deng? It was because of his good reputation. Although some things weren't said openly, every graduate student knew exactly which advisors were good and which were not.

News traveled fast in the school. Roommates, colleagues, and other students were all channels for gossip. Over the next few days, Zhou Yun became the topic of conversation among both teachers and students.

Students often had conversations like this:

"Did you hear? Someone in the group next door submitted to NeurIPS, and the score was pretty high."

"Really? We have a genius like that in our school?"

"My advisor mentioned it at the group meeting yesterday. Can it be fake? He scolded us, saying, 'Look at the other groups, then look at yourselves.' Seriously, if I could publish in NeurIPS, would my old man dare talk to me like that?"

"That’s impressive."

The teachers were much the same. It was always: "So-and-so's group has someone who published in NeurIPS."

This made Zhou Yun briefly famous in the department. Fortunately, most people didn't know his name or what he looked like, so his life remained largely unchanged, aside from hearing people talk about him while he was in the restroom.

In the lab, as Zhou Yun finished submitting his response in the system, Qiu Yan sat at his desk with a milk tea, smiling. "Junior brother, you’ve become quite the celebrity these past few days."

Zhou Yun rolled his eyes. Honestly, he didn't want to be famous, but he knew it was inevitable. Once his paper was accepted, even if his mentor didn't say anything, the school would promote it. He just had to get used to it.

"Here, these are the documents the professor prepared for you. He said you'd need them for your visa. They should be complete. You weren't here when he came yesterday, so he gave them to me." Qiu Yan handed a folder to Zhou Yun.

"Thanks."

"The professor did all the work; I didn't do anything. Check them to see if anything is missing, then just go to Professor Deng."

Zhou Yun opened the folder. It contained documents with the school's official seals. Although he had never applied for a visa before, everything looked complete, given that the professor had handled it himself. He checked online and found that there was a Canadian visa center right in Hangzhou, so he wouldn't even have to travel to another city.