xhr 小传（The Legend of XHR）
这应该是我写过的最魔怔的文章了（
本文由 GPT 4o 辅助写作
既然都上了 GPT 4o，那为什么不来个英文版呢（
初一那年，我第一次见到 xhr。他看上去与其他人无异，甚至显得有些超重，但他的眼睛里透出一种深邃而幽暗的光芒，那是算法与数据在他灵魂深处交织的痕迹。我从未见过如此专注的眼神，仿佛他早已在虚空中与算法缔结了某种不可名状的契约。
那时，我们都在准备一场 NOI Plus 模拟赛。题目刚刚下发，我便被那密密麻麻的符号震慑得下不了手。而 xhr 却双目微闭，仿佛在等待某种启示。几秒钟后，他开始在空气中比划着无形的符号，像是在编织一张无形的网。我们都以为他也被题目吓得不轻，可下一刻，他睁开眼打开了记事本，又一次闭上眼后，以非人的速度在 10 秒内写完了所有代码， AK 了这场模拟赛。我被惊呆了，因为我知道他的电脑上还没有安装编译器。
“你是怎么做到的？”我战战兢兢地问。
xhr 没有回答，只是轻轻一笑，继续闭目。他说，这些题目对他来说只是脑海中的一片幻影，随着意识的流动便自行解析了。但他脸上闪过一丝微不可察的遗憾，低声嘟囔道：“只是这 Windows 积累了数十年的代码污秽，恶心得让我必须将思考速度放慢 1e18 倍。”他的手指轻轻敲击着键盘，仿佛在进行一种超越我们理解的仪式，“这键盘的轮询率实在低得可怜，让我一秒钟只能敲下 1000 个字符。”那时的我无法理解他的言语，只觉得他像是被某种超自然的力量附体。
到了初二，xhr 的行为愈发令人费解。他开始在训练时自我设限，每次故意限制自己的记忆，删除一部分重要的算法，仿佛在与自己进行一场无声的博弈。我问他为何如此，他淡淡地答：“算法竞赛的最高境界，就是没有算法。”他似乎是在追求一种纯粹的境界，一种超越常规思维的状态。
他的训练方式，更像是一种玄学。他常常在题目解到一半时，突然站起身来，走到窗前，对着一片天空发呆。有人说他在思考数据结构的最优解，但我知道，xhr 正在通过脑电波与宇宙射线进行对话。通过这种方式，他得到了来自未来的算法启示，从而破解了所有现有的问题。有人说，xhr 的大脑实际上已经成为了宇宙射线的中转站，他甚至能够干涉这些射线的轨迹，从而影响整个宇宙的运转。
xhr 还时常抱怨，人类的科技实在落后，“如果我能直接输出视频信号，便可轻松渲染出 114514K 191bit 810fps 的画面，而当下最强的 CPU，还需超频至 998244353PHz，才能匹敌我大脑的计算速度。”
当各种大模型风靡一时，我问 xhr 对此有何看法。他只是冷笑了一声，仿佛不屑与此相提并论：“我的一节脊髓，便能轻松运行 1.8 万亿参数的 GPT 4。”他的语气轻描淡写，仿佛这些庞大的计算不过是他的闲暇消遣。喜欢划水的同学尤其喜爱 xhr，因为他写的显卡驱动让学校的 UHD Graphics 630 核显拥有媲美 RTX 4090 的游戏性能，而他设计的压缩算法能将 1T 的游戏压缩成区区 100K（香农：啊？）。
然而，专心学 OI 的同学们却对他满腹牢骚，因为不论多么复杂的题目，xhr 从不费心解释。他只会露出一丝淡淡的笑意，仿佛所有的解答都只存在于他的心灵深处，无法为凡人所道明。
xhr 初三便被破例允许参加 ICPC WF。当然，他没有组队，多出的两个队友只会成为他的累赘。其他队伍都在疯狂思考、交流和调试，唯有 xhr 像往常一样，闭目养神。手指在空气中轻轻划过，仿佛在操纵一场无形的戏法。更令人惊叹的是，他的代码从未出错，仿佛他早已预见了所有的陷阱与歧途。
WF 夺冠后，我忍不住问他：“你难道从不犯错吗？”
xhr 只是静静地看着我，眼神中流露出一种莫名的悲悯。他低声说道：“每一行代码，都是通向另一个世界的钥匙。对与错，不过是不同路径的交汇。”他顿了顿，又道，“真正的挑战，不在于解题，而在于在无尽的虚空中找到那唯一的出路。”
最离奇的是，他在高强度训练后，总会进行一种奇怪的“仪式”。他会关闭所有的 IDE，删除所有的代码文件，然后独自一人在操场上跑上几圈。据他说，这是为了“清空缓存”。有一次，我跟在他身后，问他为何如此。他神秘一笑，说：“代码过多，会扰乱思维，需要定期清理。”他还警告我，如果不定期清理脑中的“冗余代码”，将会导致“思维死锁”。
xhr 的实力远超我们每一个人，但他从不炫耀，甚至刻意在每次模拟赛中保留实力。他说，真正的强者从不依赖比赛成绩来证明自己。那些模拟赛对他来说不过是些无关紧要的练习，真正的比赛在他的脑海中进行。
岁月流逝，我渐渐明白，xhr 的世界远比我们所能想象的复杂得多。他的每一行代码，每一次调试，每一次“错误”，都隐藏着更深层的意义。对于他来说，OI 早已不再是简单的比赛，而是一场与宇宙本质的对话。
最终，xhr 离开了学校，消失在某个虚无缥缈的领域。有人说他去了硅谷赚大钱，有人说他在研究高维度的算法。而我则相信，他早已找到了那条通向真理的道路。或许他现在正站在某个无形的空间中，思索着宇宙的终极算法。
而我，只能在他那残留的阴影中，继续追寻那份遥不可及的智慧。
The Legend of XHR
In the first year of middle school, I met XHR for the first time. He looked like any other person, maybe a bit overweight, but there was a deep and mysterious light in his eyes—a reflection of the algorithms and data intertwined within his soul. I had never seen such focused eyes, as if he had already formed some indescribable pact with algorithms in the void.
At that time, we were all preparing for a simulated NOI Plus competition. The questions had just been distributed, and I was so intimidated by the dense symbols that I couldn’t even start. But XHR closed his eyes slightly, as if waiting for some kind of revelation. A few seconds later, he began sketching invisible symbols in the air, as if weaving an invisible web. We all thought the problem had scared him too, but the next moment, he opened his eyes, launched Notepad, and after closing his eyes again, he wrote all the code within 10 seconds at an inhuman speed, and aced the simulation. I was stunned because I knew his computer didn’t even have a compiler installed.
“How did you do that?” I asked nervously.
XHR didn’t answer, just smiled softly and closed his eyes again. He said that these problems were just illusions in his mind, unraveling themselves as his consciousness flowed. But a trace of regret flickered across his face, and he muttered quietly, “It’s just that this Windows, with decades of accumulated code filth, disgusts me so much that I have to slow my thinking down by 1e18 times.” His fingers lightly tapped the keyboard as if performing a ritual beyond our comprehension, “The polling rate of this keyboard is so miserably low that I can only type 1000 characters per second.” At that time, I couldn’t understand his words, only feeling as though he was possessed by some supernatural force.
By the second year, XHR’s behavior became even more baffling. He began setting limits on himself during training, deliberately deleting important algorithms as if engaging in a silent battle with himself. When I asked him why he did this, he calmly replied, “The highest realm of algorithm competitions is to have no algorithms.” It seemed he was pursuing a pure state, a realm beyond conventional thinking.
His training methods were more like metaphysics. Often, halfway through solving a problem, he would suddenly stand up, walk to the window, and stare at the sky. Some said he was contemplating the optimal solution for data structures, but I knew XHR was communicating with cosmic rays through brainwaves. Through this method, he received algorithmic insights from the future, thus solving all existing problems. Some said that XHR’s brain had actually become a relay station for cosmic rays, and he could even alter their trajectories, influencing the operation of the entire universe.
XHR often complained about how backward human technology was, saying, “If I could directly output video signals, I could easily render a 114514K 191bit 810fps image, while the strongest current CPU would need to be overclocked to 998244353PHz to match the speed of my brain.”
When large models became popular, I asked XHR what he thought about them. He just sneered, as if disdainful to even compare: “One of my spinal segments could easily run a GPT-4 with 1.8 trillion parameters.” His tone was casual, as if these massive computations were just his leisure pastime. Classmates who liked to slack off especially loved XHR because his graphics card driver allowed the school’s UHD Graphics 630 integrated graphics to rival the performance of an RTX 4090, and the compression algorithm he designed could shrink a 1TB game down to just 100KB (Shannon: Huh?).
However, classmates who were serious about OI were frustrated with him, because no matter how complex the problem, XHR never bothered to explain. He would just smile faintly, as if all the answers existed only in his mind, too profound for mere mortals to comprehend.
In his third year, XHR was exceptionally allowed to participate in the ICPC World Finals. Naturally, he didn’t form a team, as two other teammates would only be a burden. While other teams were frantically thinking, communicating, and debugging, XHR was, as usual, resting with his eyes closed. His fingers lightly sketched in the air, as if performing an invisible trick. Even more astonishing, his code never contained errors, as if he had foreseen all traps and pitfalls.
After winning the World Finals, I couldn’t help but ask him, “Do you never make mistakes?”
XHR just quietly looked at me, his gaze filled with an inexplicable compassion. He softly said, “Every line of code is a key to another world. Right and wrong are just intersections of different paths.” He paused, then added, “The real challenge is not solving problems but finding that one true path in the endless void.”
The strangest thing was, after intense training, he would perform a peculiar “ritual.” He would close all IDEs, delete all code files, and then run a few laps alone on the playground. According to him, this was to “clear the cache.” Once, I followed behind him and asked why he did this. He smiled mysteriously and said, “Too much code clutters the mind; it needs regular clearing.” He even warned me that if I didn’t regularly clear the “redundant code” in my brain, it could lead to “thought deadlock.”
XHR’s abilities far exceeded any of ours, but he never boasted, even deliberately holding back in every simulation. He said that true strength is never proven by competition results. Those simulations were just trivial exercises for him; the real competition was happening in his mind.
As the years passed, I gradually realized that XHR’s world was far more complex than we could ever imagine. Every line of his code, every debug, every “mistake” held a deeper meaning. To him, OI was no longer just a simple competition, but a dialogue with the essence of the universe.
Eventually, XHR left school, disappearing into some ethereal realm. Some say he went to Silicon Valley to make a fortune; others say he’s researching high-dimensional algorithms. But I believe he has already found the path to the truth. Perhaps now he’s standing in some invisible space, pondering the ultimate algorithm of the universe.
As for me, I can only continue to chase that elusive wisdom in the shadow he left behind.