Chapter Eleven: In the End, We Underestimated These Geniuses

“Everyone knows that this time, the Three-Five Exam questions were drafted by nine professors, who discussed them for nearly two months and formulated a total of 1,300 questions. After screening, 638 were selected, encompassing the specialties of all nine professors.”

“Even the top student in the grade, that prodigious young girl from the Xia family, Xia Qinghan, was still nineteen points short of a perfect score.”

“I agree with this viewpoint. There must have been some sort of cheating involved in this exam.”

The professors who had written the questions were divided in their opinions, and the atmosphere was lively with heated debates.

As He Bing entered the office, she said to Jiang Yu, who was following behind her, “You must have heard the talk. I’m sure you have some expectations about your own results.”

“The reason we can’t give you first place is, first, because your score is highly controversial—a perfect score has never occurred at No. 1 High School. Second, we have to give others an explanation. If you’re ranked first, will anyone else accept it?”

Jiang Yu smiled. “Then, Teacher He, what ranking do you think I deserve?”

Teacher He shook her head. “I don’t have the authority to decide that. Right now, we need to verify whether you cheated.”

Jiang Yu spread his hands helplessly. “So I have no choice in the matter?”

Teacher He took a deep breath. “You’ve always been at the bottom of the class, and now you suddenly have a perfect score. Who could believe that?”

The moment Jiang Yu stepped into the office, he could feel several gazes focused on him.

“So this is the student who got a perfect score?”

A professor asked suspiciously.

He Bing nodded. “Professor Lin, this is Jiang Yu.”

At once, a chorus of accusations broke out: “Boy, did you cheat? If you did, I hope you’ll admit it. Cheating in exams is no trivial matter; in the past two years, it’s been classified as a criminal offense.”

“At best, you’ll be expelled; at worst, you could go to prison.”

“If you confess, and your attitude is sincere, we can recommend to the Education Bureau to void your results and give you another chance.”

Jiang Yu replied with a smile, “May I ask, the Three-Five Exam of No.1 High School in Yuncheng is reputed to be the most prestigious mock exam in the country. From drafting to finalizing the questions, the entire process is guarded by armed police. When the papers are delivered, it’s all under police escort. With such tight security, who could possibly know the questions in advance?”

“Moreover, during the exam, every classroom has six cameras installed. The invigilators circulate every three minutes in small rounds and every five minutes in large rounds, right up to the last student handing in their paper. Under such circumstances, who could possibly cheat?”

Jiang Yu’s two questions left the accusing professor speechless.

But another person spoke up, “There are always exceptions. What if there was an internal leak? We’ll investigate, and once your cheating is confirmed, we’ll follow the trail and find the culprit who leaked the questions.”

In this setting, He Bing had no opportunity to speak; she could only stand quietly to the side and wait.

The principal tried to reason with Jiang Yu earnestly, “Jiang Yu, if you admit it, it’s a minor issue. But if you don’t and it’s later uncovered, you’ll be facing prison.”

Jiang Yu’s smile faded, his tone turning cold. “From the moment I walked in, you’ve all been leading me to admit to cheating, without seriously considering that this might be my genuine result.”

At this, someone shouted, “Impossible! Even the people who set the questions wouldn’t dare guarantee a perfect score.”

Jiang Yu sneered. “Your doubts about me are nothing more than the view of the frog at the bottom of the well!”

The professor’s face flushed with anger, and he slammed the table, pointing at Jiang Yu. “Boy, don’t speak nonsense.”

Seeing the situation escalating, He Bing quickly spoke up, “Jiang Yu, this is no small matter. Just tell the truth. The issue has already reached the Education Bureau headquarters; a lot of people are paying attention.”

Besides the professors who wrote the questions and the school’s main leaders, quite a few university admissions officers from home and abroad were also observing.

A perfect score—an unprecedented occurrence.

If it turned out to be genuine, these people were determined to recruit this student, even if it meant offending their peers or causing an uproar.

Jiang Yu stood in the center of everyone’s attention, hands clasped behind his back, calm and unmoved.

Even He Bing was nervous; Jiang Yu was still young and probably didn’t realize the gravity of the situation.

“Perhaps we’ve all overestimated him,” thought one admissions officer from Peking University, shaking her head slightly. “In all my years of recruiting, I’ve seen all kinds of prodigies, men and women hailed as the future of China. Even so, none have ever achieved such a flawless result in an exam like this.”

She looked at Jiang Yu with mixed feelings.

Though the professors appeared agitated and accused Jiang Yu of cheating, this was simply a natural reaction—they, better than anyone, knew the difficulty of this round of questions.

Their reaction was only to be expected.

In truth, the admissions officers hadn’t come with high hopes; they were merely curious about the perfect score and wanted to find out the real story.

Cheating on an exam was hardly the act of a true hero.

One should be like the favored daughter of heaven, Xia Qinghan, or Jiang Ziyue, or Jiang Shaoqi—proving themselves with genuine talent. That was the mark of a true champion.

As the tension in the room grew, the admissions officer from Yan University suggested, “Since there were 1,300 questions drafted, why not assemble a new test on the spot, using questions that were not part of the exam, and have him answer them here, with the professors grading in real time?”

“That way, whether he cheated or not will be clear as day.”

“Excellent idea!” A white-haired professor praised, wondering why this hadn’t occurred to him in the heat of the moment.

“Jiang Yu, what do you think?” the admissions officer asked with a smile.

Jiang Yu nodded. “As you wish.”

The proposal was agreed upon immediately. Of the nine professors, five were present, and they each selected questions—altogether 500, a hodgepodge from the pool outside the original exam, randomized and printed to form a new test.

In just over ten minutes, everything was prepared.

A desk and chair were provided for Jiang Yu, and the five professors, six school leaders, Education Bureau officials, and a number of curious admissions officers—over twenty people in total—supervised in person.

Jiang Yu remained composed, calmly flipping through all five hundred questions under their intense scrutiny.

In an instant, his formidable mind projected the answers to all five hundred questions in his head.

The questions were indeed difficult, but to Jiang Yu, it was just a matter of employing unique problem-solving approaches. After all, these were meant for eighteen- or nineteen-year-old high school students. No matter how hard they were, could they possibly be harder than transcending to immortality or ascending to the heavens?

These questions were challenging for a moment; the latter trials had taken Jiang Yu five thousand years to overcome.

With the speed of a dragon in flight, Jiang Yu wrote his answers, his pen gliding across the paper without pause, each response as fluid as a river.

The questions covered all possible problem-solving methods from the exam, some with fixed answers, which naturally posed no issue.

Then there were the open-ended argument questions, which required personal opinions, insights, and reflections.

The reason no one had ever achieved a perfect score at No. 1 High School was precisely because of these argumentative questions—everyone had their own perspective, and point deductions were common.

After more than half an hour, Jiang Yu put down his pen and said calmly, “My score will depend on whether the graders are sincere or intend to make things difficult for me.”

Jiang Yu was not wrong. In these argumentative questions, if the professors deliberately wanted to trip him up, they could deduct points at will, creating a wide gap between his score and a perfect mark.

One professor laughed. “Don’t worry. We’re only verifying whether you cheated. We’re not so petty as to make things hard for a student.”

Jiang Yu stood up and waited quietly.

Two-thirds of those present gathered around to watch the professors grade the paper.

The questions with fixed answers were easy—if correct, no points deducted. The main focus was on seventy-eight open-ended questions.

But before reaching those, everyone’s expressions had already changed.

So far, every answer was correct.

Even the five professors grading the paper wore grave expressions.

By the time they reached the final questions, the professors began to discuss among themselves, their gazes toward Jiang Yu growing increasingly complex.

“Although there’s no fixed answer, the originality of these insights is truly refreshing. For a single question, he provided three methods, each connected, each reinforcing the other. I say this deserves full marks; does anyone object?”

He added, “Let’s not deny our appreciation for this approach.”

Though there was no standard answer, Jiang Yu’s problem-solving methods had come as close as possible to perfection.

No one had a word to say.

Before the grading was even finished, an admissions officer from Yan University approached Jiang Yu. “As long as you’re willing to come to Yan University, I guarantee all your expenses will be covered. If you don’t like dorms, I’ll pay for your own apartment out of pocket.”

“As for scholarships, I won’t even mention them—you’ll receive so many your hands will ache.”

Before he finished, another foreign admissions officer stood up and asked in fluent English whether Jiang Yu would like to join Harvard.

With the first taking the lead, the other admissions officers quickly joined in the competition.

Jiang Yu answered with a gentle smile, “Sorry, I have no intention of pursuing academics. After finishing high school, I will drop out.”

The entire office was left staring in shock.

Drop out after high school?

He Bing’s eyes widened, her delicate lips covered in disbelief as she stared blankly at Jiang Yu.

“Are you out of your mind? Jiang Yu, this is your one chance to change your life! Do you have any idea what giving up your studies would mean for you?”

Coming to her senses, He Bing shouted in distress.

She wanted nothing more than to slap some sense into this ungrateful boy.

“Jiang Yu did not cheat!”

Moments later, a professor announced solemnly.

Clearing his name was of utmost importance for his future, and they took this matter extremely seriously.

“He lost only one point on this test—virtually a perfect score.”

Hearing this directly from the professors, everyone went wild.

This result was reached after thorough deliberation by all five professors.

“We truly underestimated what prodigies are capable of…”