Chapter 70: Is Arithmetic Really That Hard?! (Part Two)

Two hours and twenty minutes into the exam, in the third class of the elite first-year group, Old Jia was sitting at the podium, writing furiously. His expression was serious and his attention unwavering; he had prepared rigorously for this test, starting alongside the students when the bell rang. He wanted to see what secrets this exam held.

After more than two hours of intense testing, Old Jia was finally beginning to grasp its essence. The quality of the questions was truly impressive. This exam wasn’t merely difficult or extensive; the layered, well-graded problems were themselves a lesson in pedagogical artistry.

Each tier of difficulty had its own volume, focus, and points of challenge. Old Jia, a true master of mathematics, had a solid foundation from the very beginning. Because of his expertise, he could sense the subtleties hidden within the test.

“Whew…” The prolonged effort was starting to take its toll on him. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and amusedly noticed that several students in the class were doing the same.

Clearly, everyone felt the same way—this test was genuinely tough.

Achieving a decent score would be easy enough; students in the elite class had no trouble with that. But aiming for a high mark—that was another matter.

The sheer volume, sustained precision, and intensity of calculation demanded not only mathematical ability but also a resilient focus, a steady temperament in the face of endless questions, and the stamina and endurance to persist through the long journey.

Even with all these qualities, high scores were not guaranteed. Without regular, intensive training, students might struggle to adapt to such a demanding exam.

So, anyone who managed to score above 350 in this test was not only exceptionally talented in every respect, but also must have been diligent and unrelenting in their efforts.

Such students, wherever they went, were true elites. Reaching this point in the test, Old Jia had to admit that Principal Liu’s questions were indeed of high caliber.

Look at the students in the class—they were heating up like a boiler. These little rascals usually have their noses in the air, but rarely get to unleash their full potential. This time, the difference between a horse and a mule was clear at a glance.

As for a perfect score…

Old Jia pondered for a long time, scanning the third row of his class. He looked from one end to the other and silently shook his head at each student. Finally, his gaze settled on the one sitting in the very center of the row—the prodigy from the Provincial Governor’s family.

The famed geniuses from other classes, the top ten in the grade, probably couldn’t manage it. Across the entire first-year cohort, if anyone could possibly achieve a perfect score, it would be this student. Old Jia observed closely and saw that this individual remained calm and unruffled, as if the difficulty of the exam was nothing extraordinary.

One question after another, unhurried and steady, the student’s pace was even slower than those nearby, not particularly conspicuous. Yet their expression was tranquil, free from anxiety or fatigue, their eyes clear and focused. This demonstrated a meticulous management of energy and stamina, a methodical approach, saving strength for a final push.

Such composure and discipline—there were few in the entire school who could compare. This stern rigor, this resolute strength, this unwavering determination, not hesitating over any action or word—among all he had seen, there was truly no second… No second… No second one?

Was there really none?

Suddenly, a figure flashed through Old Jia’s mind—a tall, robust young man with a face like cast iron.

Old Jia quickly shook his head. Though the two seemed alike, the twenty-eighth class of the first-year, that so-called “trash” class, could hardly nurture such a promising talent.

He wondered, how was that silent stone progressing now? Was he struggling, forced to hand in his paper early and leave?

Two hours and forty-five minutes into the exam, in the twenty-eighth class of the first-year, only two students remained. The rest had already left more than an hour ago, leaving just Shi Tiexin and Zhao Qingmiao.

Zhao Qingmiao had long since given up, but he glanced furtively at Shi Tiexin in the back row, determined to learn from his elder. Even if he couldn’t solve the problems, he would persevere to the end—the homeroom teacher, Ms. Chu, was watching, and sticking it out would surely leave a good impression, maybe earn some favor.

Zhao Qingmiao squirmed in his seat as if plagued by fleas.

I’ll persist!

I’ll persist!

I’ll… I’ll… I can’t take it anymore! I need to go to the restroom!

Two hours and fifty minutes in, Zhao Qingmiao finally fled. Now, only Shi Tiexin and Ms. Chu were left in the classroom. Ms. Chu had put down her own exam paper half an hour earlier, sighing in defeat. She’d tried, but simply couldn’t finish. After a quick trip to the restroom, she returned to find Shi Tiexin still steadily working through the test.

Unhurried and calm, his progress seemed decent.

Ms. Chu pursed her lips, scoffing inwardly—what’s the point of pretending? I know you fell from the elite class, I know you once topped the district’s entrance exam, but so what? Even those who never dropped out would be helpless against the later questions.

Pushing through to the end—was it to show off your abilities? Faking it, pretending to be tough! If you can’t solve them, just leave them blank or guess and hand in the paper, let everyone have some rest. Do you think acting persistent will make me see you in a new light?

You want the weekend—I want the weekend too!

I’m already impatient!

Just then, Shi Tiexin’s pen suddenly stopped.

He stared at his exam paper, and Ms. Chu had no idea what he was thinking. He sat motionless for two minutes, then abruptly stood up. He handed his test booklet to the podium without a word and left. In his departing figure, there seemed to be a hint of discontent.

Ms. Chu casually flipped through Shi Tiexin’s paper and found every question answered—ha! It must be guesswork. Though his handwriting was neat, it was impossible to complete this entire test. If you were just guessing, you could have done it earlier, saving me time.

Ms. Chu tidied up the papers in the classroom while Shi Tiexin walked out. Bathed in the bright sunlight outside, Shi Tiexin sighed in resignation.

Forget it, mathematics can wait for now.

Time to switch gears and study something else; mathematics was beyond hope for now.