Chapter 72: A Perfect Score? (Part Two)

Over the next two days, Shi Tiexin once again immersed himself in a rigorous schedule of cultivation. The accumulation of primordial energy proceeded steadily, quickly surpassing eighty strands. As his primordial energy approached its maximum, Shi Tiexin's weight increased rapidly. He had recently weighed himself and found he now tipped the scales at ninety kilograms.

Ninety kilograms... just barely acceptable.

As for his cultivation of the mind arts, his progress in rhetoric was nothing short of astonishing. Perhaps it was the inspiration and encouragement he had drawn from the Selected Anthology of Ancient Essays; his advancement in rhetoric was swift, and in just two days, he had surpassed the ninety mark, rapidly approaching the limit of ninety-nine.

Now, when he practiced calligraphy with a hard-tipped pen, he no longer needed to trace over Wang Xingshun’s practice sheets. Shi Tiexin had developed a particular fondness for the ancient essay anthology, copying from it ceaselessly from morning readings onward. The anthology was printed in Song typeface, but his brushwork danced across the page, every character rendered in upright regular script.

The local idlers who glimpsed Shi Tiexin’s calligraphy clicked their tongues in admiration, surprised that old Tie could possess such a skill. Truly, he lived up to his reputation as a top scholar from the elite class—his script was balanced, every stroke precise, infinitely better than their own chicken-scratch handwriting.

Of course, these loafers had little understanding of the deeper mysteries hidden in Shi Tiexin’s technique. If a connoisseur of calligraphy were to inspect his work, they would notice that since his epiphany on Sunday, his script had begun to conceal sharpness and vigor, its structure firm and bold. The skill of his calligraphy was gradually merging with his own character, forming a unique style.

The “Legacy of the Masters” attribute was already coming into play.

Curiously, since Shi Tiexin’s calligraphy became so well-formed, even the writing on the ostentatious signboard he practiced on had improved, as if advancing in tandem with him.

Beyond rhetoric, his progress in other subjects was equally swift. Compared to mathematics and rhetoric, the remaining four subjects were easier to master, and Shi Tiexin’s foundation was exceptionally solid; during the entrance exams, he scored full marks in every subject, which allowed him to advance quickly.

Within a few days, physics, chemistry, and biology had all entered the deep proficiency stage. Natural history lagged slightly but was expected to reach deep proficiency in two more days.

Shi Tiexin was intoxicated by the joy of rapid progress, oblivious to everything around him.

Of course, while Shi Tiexin was sweating through his practice, another group was laboring just as hard: the mathematics teachers of Fengming First High School.

Exams are meant to produce results. Results require grading. Students endure the exam for a short while, but teachers’ work stretches on interminably. With so many exams at Fengming First High, the burden of grading was immense.

For this particular exam, the grading pressure was especially severe.

There were many questions, high difficulty, and extended duration. Students were dizzy from solving problems, and teachers were even more overwhelmed by grading them. All the mathematics teachers from all three grades were involved, yet the workload was still unbearable. Because grading arithmetic problems was straightforward—answers were either right or wrong, requiring little judgment—the school even formed a grading corps from other staff to help.

Even so, with nearly five thousand papers across three grades, the process left everyone exhausted.

One teacher’s waist ached, another’s eyes hurt, some had numb legs from sitting too long, others developed neck pain from bending over. Dissatisfaction ran rampant among teachers already unhappy with this exam. The Department of Education director could only offer constant reassurances: “There’s a new grading machine on the market. The school plans to invest heavily in several units to ease your grading burden.”

Promises of relief and bonuses finally quelled the teachers’ discontent.

Yet the director was nervous. Whether Principal Liu’s new approach could be implemented depended on the success of this exam. If it succeeded, teachers would be convinced, and reforms could proceed smoothly. If it failed, all plans would be postponed and difficult to execute.

As for what constituted a successful exam, there was no precise metric. Ultimately, exams are meant to gauge students’ progress, help them recognize their level, and assist teachers in identifying gaps and issues in teaching.

If the exam was too easy, everyone would score high, rendering it meaningless. Conversely, if it was so difficult that everyone failed, it couldn’t be deemed successful either.

Since the exam was a measuring stick, it was best not to let any marks on the scale go unused. Ideally, students would be distributed broadly and regularly across every mark, so that both teachers and students would recognize the exam’s authority. This was the art of testing, the mark of a truly successful exam.

The director was well aware of the test’s difficulty, and now he prayed that the school would produce at least a few high scorers. If just a handful could break the three hundred eighty mark, it would prove the exam wasn’t merely difficult, but genuinely sophisticated.

Not only the director, but teachers themselves were curious, discussing results whenever they could. They were eager to see what outcomes the exam would produce. Especially those grading the latter pages—whenever a standout paper appeared, it was singled out and discussed with relish.

Through these conversations, teachers gradually realized that those who excelled in this exam were students with exceptionally solid foundations. All who scored above three hundred twenty caught the attention of the teachers.

The math teachers in the elite class began to compete, comparing the average scores of their respective classes. Through this competition, the exam’s level and authority gained wider acceptance. The elite class teachers were determined to claim the highest score in the entire grade.

Compared to previous exams where full marks were common, this time, high scores carried far greater weight.

On Tuesday, a startling message circulated in the senior year department.

In this test, the senior division of Fengming First High had produced a perfect score.

A smile appeared on the director’s face. Stability was assured.

Though details had yet to be released, all the teachers were astounded. Anyone who truly understood the difficulty of this test was desperate to know: just who could achieve a perfect score on such a challenging exam?

Soon after, word spread from the sophomore division: a perfect score had been achieved there as well.

For a moment, everyone was consumed with curiosity.

On Wednesday morning, the mathematics department held a teaching conference. This time, representatives from all three grades were present. The director presided: “Thanks to your diligent grading and repeated verification, all results from this mathematics fundamentals assessment have now been compiled.”

He waved a statistical report in his hand, a playful expression on his face. “Within these results, some truly unexpected developments have emerged.”