Chapter Sixteen: Shock

From mappings and functions to the limits of sequences, and then to the limits of functions... The first chapter alone, Functions and Limits, was divided into ten sections, each with smaller subsections, the content both abundant and profound. For Wu Tong, encountering such advanced mathematical knowledge for the first time, it was a leap far beyond anything she had studied in high school—a true chasm. If Wu Tong hadn’t truly mastered high school mathematics, and if she weren’t now in a state of deep study, her comprehension at its current peak, she would likely have felt as if she were reading hieroglyphs, utterly bewildered and lost.

Yet now, she had awakened at the perfect time, with ample hours ahead of her, and the guidance of the Stele of Enlightenment to assist her. Why not embrace this learning? Wu Tong calmed her mind, studying each word, sentence, and formula with painstaking care, step by step working through derivations, gradually understanding and absorbing the material, and reinforcing it with the exercises at the end of each lesson.

Although it was not as voracious as her first year of high school, when she had devoured the material like a whale swallowing water, her progress was still gratifying—smooth and unhindered, without any significant obstacles. With each new derivation, she was slowly building her own way of thinking in higher mathematics, and this process was accelerating. Higher mathematics was opening a whole new chapter in Wu Tong’s mathematical world.

After spending an entire afternoon and evening, Wu Tong had entirely mastered the first chapter, Functions and Limits. Before returning to school for Sunday evening study, she finished self-studying the second chapter, Derivatives and Differentials, and even previewed part of the third.

While Wu Tong was immersed in her study of higher mathematics, the teachers of the second year at Xincheng No. 1 High School were also working overtime to mark exams. The teachers generally graded each other’s papers: multiple-choice questions were scanned and graded by machine, while other questions were divided among teachers by topic, with final scores only revealed when all marks were compiled.

This year’s college entrance examination results at Xincheng No. 1 High were less than ideal: not a single student was admitted to a top-two university, and only the top classes had a respectable rate of meeting the undergraduate cutoff. The lower classes had performed so poorly that, in some cases, entire classes had failed. The principal had been furious, tightening oversight on the current third-year cohort, and for the future third-years—the current second-years—the school was determined to set a new standard right from the start.

Hence, the second-year group had been given a high-quality diagnostic test upon entering school, to see how many talented students there were and to identify and nurture them early.

On Sunday evening, homeroom teachers briefly appeared in each class during self-study, wearing similarly stern expressions, gave a few words of admonition, instructed the class monitors to keep order, then hurried back to the office. The marking had just finished, and the teachers had to rush to compile the scores. Two teachers formed a group, each group responsible for tallying one examination room.

Duan Hong, the head of the second-year group and homeroom teacher of Class 1, who also taught mathematics to the two top classes, wore a dark expression. With all the math papers from the mock exam marked, they were now compiling scores. The results from the first ten examination rooms had been tallied—there wasn’t a single perfect score.

Even the worst students in the top two classes shouldn’t have ranked lower than four hundredth in the grade, which meant that, with questions this straightforward—only slightly elevated in difficulty—none of the students in these two elite classes had scored full marks. What use was the highest score of 148 if it wasn’t perfect? He was deeply dissatisfied with his own classes; clearly, they lacked practice. He resolved to drill those lazy students hard—they had let themselves go over the summer.

...

“Hmm... full marks on multiple-choice, full marks on the fill-in and short-answer questions... This is a completely perfect score!” During the second round of tallying, a teacher counting the scores for the eleventh examination room exclaimed in surprise.

The first time this was announced, they had assumed it was a math specialist student who had performed exceptionally well this time—a commendable achievement. Duan Hong walked over to look at this perfect paper: neat handwriting, answers precise and rigorous, clear logic, and even the last two out-of-syllabus questions were answered flawlessly. Clearly, this student had studied ahead independently and was progressing beyond the school’s curriculum—a promising talent. He made a mental note to find out who this student was; perhaps they could even participate in competitions.

But no one had expected that the phrase “full marks” would be repeated five times during the score tallying, immediately arousing the extreme curiosity of all the teachers in the office. What sort of lucky ground was the eleventh examination room? How was it that, except for Chinese, there were perfect scores in every subject from that room?

“Could it be the same student’s scores?” Two teachers exchanged glances, speaking in uncertain tones. They were the proctors for the eleventh examination room and suddenly remembered the girl in their room: “Was it the young lady who handed in her paper with half the allotted time left?”

If so, it was even more astonishing—handing in her papers with half the time remaining, and all of them perfect scores? That was simply monstrous!

“Ms. Liu, Mr. Zhang, what are you talking about?” Others had caught the first part—there was indeed a possibility that all these perfect scores came from one student, which was more likely than having different top scorers in each subject all from the same room.

The other teachers, their curiosity piqued, began to ask questions, especially the homeroom teachers of the two elite classes. If there really was such an exceptional student—perfect scores in every subject except Chinese—they would be invaluable! They were determined to recruit such a student to their class, for letting such talent slip away would be a crime against the heavens.

“Mr. Duan, Ms. Chen, we’re talking about how, during our proctoring, there was a young lady who, except for Chinese, handed in her other subject papers with about half the time left. We glanced at her papers on the spot—they were excellent. So we’re guessing these perfect papers might belong to her. If so, congratulations to our school in advance!”

Such results would have universities across the country scrambling to recruit her, competing with scholarships and offers. She would be guaranteed a place at one of the top two universities—without question.

Clearly, all the teachers understood this.

“Unseal the papers!” Duan Hong, as head of the year group, made the decision immediately. Whether it was true or not, they would verify it on the spot—there was no time to waste on speculation.

Every monthly exam was treated as a rehearsal for the college entrance exam: papers were sealed with no names visible. Only after the scores were compiled would the papers be unsealed and each student’s subject scores entered into the system for the final tally.

Normally, the tallying began with the first exam room, but this time, all the teachers acted in unison, first opening the papers from the eleventh exam room and drawing out the perfect scores. The name and class associated with those papers were immediately revealed to all present.

Ms. Zhang even specifically found Wu Tong’s Chinese paper—133 in bright red ink, already a rare and excellent score in Chinese! Yet, compared to the five other subjects with perfect scores, this Chinese result could only serve as a mere accompaniment.