Chapter 66: Persevering Through Hard Training, The Unified Examination Begins (Part Two)

Progress in the first tier of foundational mathematics had slowed, and Shi Tiexin had been debating whether he should continue devoting so much effort to mathematics. Rationally analyzing the situation, he knew he could be summoned back to Tumubao at any moment. With Top Scholar Shi by his side, this rare chance to rapidly improve might slip away forever if he missed it.

At a time like this, he ought to begin cultivating the second tier of both foundational mathematics and rhetoric, aiming to at least reach the “competent” or even “good” level there, then use whatever spare time he had to raise his proficiency in other subjects. Given Top Scholar Shi’s solid fundamentals, reaching the “proficient” level in all subjects should not be difficult.

But moving from “proficient” to “perfect” would require a tremendous amount of effort and time. It hardly seemed worth it, especially when the opportunity to advance quickly with Top Scholar Shi was so precious.

Yet Shi Tiexin had mulled it over all through the night and into the morning. In the end, he decided to go all in and strive for perfection.

It was true—being carried forward by Top Scholar Shi was a rare, almost miraculous chance, and it would be foolish to let it slip away. But, on the other hand, the opportunity to work side by side with Top Scholar Shi to reach the “perfect” realm was equally rare and invaluable.

“Competent,” “good,” “excellent”—Shi Tiexin believed he could reach these by himself. Even “proficient,” given the right circumstances and some determined effort, wasn’t out of reach; it would just take patience and persistence. Now that he was all but guaranteed a spot in the minor county exam, he could progress steadily even after returning home. But as for “perfect”—without working hand in hand with Top Scholar Shi, Shi Tiexin felt he would never get there on his own.

Besides, last night he discovered that cultivating “heart techniques” was not quite the same as simply absorbing knowledge. He wasn’t sure, if he started working on the second tier of mathematics with only a “proficient” foundation in the first, whether he’d ever be able to go back and fill in the gaps in his base.

Maybe it was possible, maybe not. The Orphanage certainly didn’t cover such advanced topics. But Shi Tiexin had a hunch: even if it was possible to patch up his foundations later, the cost would likely be more than he could ever afford. After all, even though he was studying academics, cultivating heart techniques was fundamentally a journey of cultivation—not just learning facts. And in cultivation, no one ever said you could easily fix a shaky foundation.

So, Shi Tiexin finally made up his mind: he would embark on the arduous path to perfection!

A whole day passed.

The progress bar advanced by about thirty notches, but that was over the course of a full day, not just an afternoon and evening—so the pace was even slower than the day before.

By now, the progress bar stood at the ninety-fifth notch, just five away from the end. But Shi Tiexin had a strong intuition that the days of being effortlessly advanced by Top Scholar Shi were over. Top Scholar Shi’s insights into the first tier of foundational mathematics had been fully exhausted.

From here on, real cultivation would begin. No one could pour knowledge into him now; he would have to work together with the other consciousness in his mind—with Top Scholar Shi—side by side, to tread a path into territory neither of them had ever reached before.

Another day passed.

The pace dropped dramatically, just as he had expected.

Shi Tiexin was utterly focused, and Top Scholar Shi’s consciousness was just as active—the two minds genuinely researching together, learning together, progressing together, in a partnership more seamless than any study buddy could hope for. An entire day went by, leaving Shi Tiexin so exhausted that he was dizzy and his vision blurred. But when he checked the progress bar, it had only advanced by two notches.

Ninety-seven. Just three left. Keep going!

Friday. The whole day slipped by, and at midnight Shi Tiexin tossed himself wearily onto his bed. Zhou Nan, ever the eager flatterer, had personally washed his clothes and sheets until they were spotless—or perhaps he’d found someone lower on the food chain to do it for him. Either way, the job was well done.

But Shi Tiexin didn’t even have the energy to offer a single word of praise.

He was just too tired—truly, utterly drained, even his ever-strengthening willpower spent. Forcing himself to check the progress bar, he saw it: ninety-nine, just one more to go. Victory was within reach!

Shi Tiexin clenched his fist. Tomorrow would be the day he achieved a perfect foundation in the first tier of foundational mathematics!

Saturday.

At ten in the evening, Shi Tiexin threw down his pen in frustration.

He had spent the entire day practicing relentlessly. Judging by his previous pace, he should have reached “perfect” by the afternoon. But he hadn’t.

He just hadn’t.

In these past few days, he’d finished all of the “Limit Practice” problems first. Then came the “Little Genius”—a huge volume of questions, all very challenging, but now they seemed trivial to him. Just now, he’d completed the entire “Little Genius” book. But when he checked the progress bar, and waited, there was nothing—no star appeared.

A whole day gone, and not a single star.

Shi Tiexin forced down his irritation and carefully reviewed all the problems he’d done. No mistakes, none at all; his performance had been solid and steady. The “Little Genius” level questions couldn’t stump him any longer. Was it precisely because they no longer challenged him that he wasn’t making any further progress?

Did he need even harder problems?

Shi Tiexin considered this, then shook his head.

No, that couldn’t be it.

By now, his understanding of the first tier of foundational mathematics was profound. He knew very well that this was just the first step of cultivation, just the beginning. No matter how well one mastered basic arithmetic, it wasn’t about turning the human mind into a computer, instantly solving complicated calculations—that simply wasn’t what building a foundation was about.

If you wanted to turn your brain into a computer, that belonged to far more advanced heart techniques. The first tier of foundational mathematics was about developing a keen sense for numbers, mastering accuracy and precision in calculation. That was the true requirement.

And he had already met it.

Where, then, was the problem? What was he missing? Why couldn’t he achieve perfection? Shi Tiexin couldn’t figure it out. Could it be that this last step was simply an insurmountable human limit? After all, true “perfection” might be beyond human reach.

But the realm was there, at the very end of the progress bar—it had to be possible. If it were truly impossible, the final notch wouldn’t exist at all; there would just be ninety-nine, and the end would be labeled “limit,” and that would be that.

Since “perfect” existed, there must be a way to achieve it.

He just hadn’t found it yet.

“Maybe I need even more practice, even more time, until everything becomes second nature—that’s the only way to reach perfection.” Shi Tiexin thought ruefully that his progress to “proficient, ninety-nine” had been almost too fast.

Top Scholar Shi had trained relentlessly for years, winter and summer alike, to reach “proficient, ninety-five.” Yet his own “proficient, ninety-nine” had taken, at most, just the past week. Maybe that was why he couldn’t break through the final barrier—he’d advanced too quickly.

“No need to rush.” Shi Tiexin patted his cheeks and decided to steady his mindset. He was mentally exhausted; it was better not to continue tonight. He would get a good sleep and face tomorrow refreshed. No arrogance, no impatience. He would fight again in the morning.