MMB Chapter 87 cannot be rated!
Chapter 87 cannot be rated!
"Overall assessment...cannot be scored."
The referee paused, then added:
"If the maximum score is 100, he has already scored more than 100 points."
The audience fell completely silent.
No one spoke.
No one applauded.
Everyone stared at the screen, at the rows of numbers, their minds blank.
Even a perfect score isn't enough.
Lin Dong didn't feel anything.
He knew he could win; he knew it the moment he saw the problem. Mark was indeed skilled, but Mark played within the rules. He was different. He had seen what it would be like when the rules were broken.
Cheng Chuan stopped breathing.
He turned his head and looked at his brother.
Cheng Yu didn't look at him.
Cheng Yu looked at the young man on the stage.
That young man from Shenzhen, who had just graduated from high school, was just spacing out.
He suddenly remembered what Lin Dong had said last night.
He initially thought it was just empty promises.
Now he knows it's not true.
Tina stood behind, her lips slowly curving into a large arc.
That's interesting. That's really interesting.
Anderson laughed out loud.
Several people around him turned to look at him, but he didn't care.
He raised the empty coffee cup and waved it at the table.
Magic Lin. Magic Fucking Lin.
Mark stood still.
He stared at the screen, at the rows and rows of numbers, for a long time.
Then he looked up at Lin Dong.
He took a step forward.
"Lin Dong," he said.
Lin Dong looked at him.
Mark paused for a moment, as if organizing his thoughts.
Then he spoke.
"I spent six years at Stanford. Four years for my undergraduate degree and two years for my PhD."
He said, "In these six years, I've met many smart people. Some are smarter than me, some are not. But everyone has to calculate. Everyone has to deduce. Everyone has to try and fail."
He paused.
"You are not."
He looked into Lin Dong's eyes.
"You were sitting there, not moving at all. Then you picked up the mouse, clicked a few times, and that was it."
He took another step forward.
"You remind me of something."
Mark looked at him.
"I saw a mental arithmetic champion perform for the first time when I was a child."
He said, "The kid on stage looked at a thirty-digit number for three seconds, then gave the answer. Everyone in the audience was applauding, but I was thinking—"
He paused.
"How could he possibly have calculated that?"
He looked at Lin Dong.
"I'm thinking about the same question now."
Lin Dong didn't say anything.
There's really no way to explain it.
How do you explain that? Say I came from twenty years ago and I could draw this thing with my eyes closed?
He looked into Mark's eyes, into those eyes that couldn't hide the confusion and curiosity.
Forget it.
It's good to keep a little mystery.
Mark waited for him for two seconds.
Then he suddenly gave a self-deprecating laugh.
"I lost," he said. "I lost badly."
He stretched out his hand.
Lin Dong looked at the hand, paused for a second, and then grasped it.
A formidable opponent.
He hadn't met many people like this; they didn't make excuses when they lost, they didn't show any displeasure, and they didn't pretend to be indifferent.
Once you've admitted it, you admit it; you can afford to lose.
He's a hundred times better than someone like Dave.
Mark gripped it very tightly.
"Lin Dong." He repeated the name again. "I'll remember you."
He let go of her hand and turned to walk off the stage.
If you remember it, then remember it.
After taking two steps, Mark suddenly stopped and looked back at Lin Dong.
"By the way," he said, "could I take a look at your proposal?"
Lin Dong looked at him.
Want to see?
Topology, parameter matching, simulation settings—any one of these could keep Mark pondering for half a year.
But what's the point of showing it to him?
Even if he understood it, he couldn't do it.
It's not a technical problem, it's a problem of mindset.
He's still stuck in the 2005 mindset and can't break free.
Mark waited two seconds, then smiled.
"Forget it," he said. "I guess you're too lazy to explain."
It's not that I'm too lazy to explain, it's that you wouldn't believe me even if I did.
Mark waved and walked off the stage.
Pity.
I wish I could take it with me.
But he knew it was impossible.
Someone like Mark wouldn't be let go by Stanford, nor would he leave on his own.
He has his own path, and he has his own way of doing things.
He looked back.
The crowd below the stage automatically made way for them.
Dave stood there, his face a fascinating mix of emotions—shock, resentment, disbelief, and a hint of bewilderment at what had happened.
Mark paused as he passed by him.
"Go back to work," he said.
Dave opened his mouth, but no words came out.
On stage, the host quickly walked up.
He still held the microphone in his hand, and beneath the professional smile on his face lay a hint of shock that he hadn't yet fully processed.
"Mr. Lin... Mr. Lin."
He walked up to Lin Dong, paused for a moment, as if unsure how to address him.
"Lin Dong will do."
The host nodded and turned to the audience.
"Everyone, today's exchange..."
He paused, as if searching for words, "I think everyone saw it. Lin Dong completed a Master's degree-level LNA design in eight minutes—no, two minutes."
There was a moment of silence in the audience, then applause erupted.
Some people stood up and applauded, some whistled, and some shouted something that couldn't be heard.
Lin Dong stood on the stage, waiting for the applause to subside.
The host handed the microphone to him.
"Lin Dong, may I ask you a few questions?"
Lin Dong nodded.
"How did you manage to come up with that plan just now?"
Lin Dong thought for a moment.
"If you've thought it through, you've done it."
Some people in the audience laughed.
The host laughed too.
"May I ask which school you go to?"
Lin Dong looked at him.
As I just mentioned. Shenzhen University, prospective freshmen.
Didn't the host hear that?
Do you still want him to say it again so that the people in the audience can hear it clearly?
Lin Dong smiled inwardly. Fine, then say it again.
He spoke.
Another burst of laughter erupted from the audience, and someone even shouted, "Which university is Shenzhen University?"
After the laughter subsided, the host asked, "So, the reason you're here at Stanford this time is...?"
"Just passing by."
Lin Dong said, "I just finished a business deal in San Francisco, and a friend told me there was an event here, so I came to join in the fun."
There was a moment of silence in the audience.
Then someone shouted, "What kind of business?"
Lin Dong glanced in that direction.
"Mobile phones," he said. "I own a technology company in Shenzhen that makes mobile phones."
A murmur arose from the crowd.
The host was taken aback for a moment.
"You... own a company? Make mobile phones?"
Lin Dong nodded.
"Starting from scratch."
When he said those four words, he saw a few people in the crowd's eyes light up.
The host asked a few more questions, which Lin Dong answered one by one.
His attitude was neither humble nor arrogant; he didn't say much, but every word he uttered hit the nail on the head.
Finally, the host suddenly said something.
"Lin Dong, have you ever thought about studying at Stanford in the future?"
The audience fell silent.
Everyone was looking at Lin Dong.
Lin Dong thought for a moment.
"We'll talk about the future later," he said. "Let's focus on doing the things in front of us well first."
The host nodded.
"Then I wish you all the best."
He turned around and faced the audience.
"Let us thank Lin Dong once again."
The applause rang out again. This time it was even more enthusiastic.
Lin Dong stood on the stage, his gaze sweeping over the crowd.
Cheng Chuan was almost jumping up. Cheng Yu stood next to him and nodded to Lin Dong.
Anderson squeezed into the front row, holding a cup of coffee that had long since gone cold, and grinned like a fool.
Lin Dong withdrew his gaze.
It's time to go down.