Chapter 51: Give Me a Set

A single sentence made Principal Ding rise to his feet! The so-called student recruitment issue was merely a trivial windfall at best, but if the Math Olympiad champion were to join Stardust, it would be tantamount to hiring a celebrity spokesperson! The training market was fiercely competitive—institutions large and small were locked in a race, unable to distinguish themselves, poaching star teachers and waging price wars. If a champion emerged from this year’s Math Olympiad, not only would the corresponding teacher’s value soar, but Stardust would instantly leave its competitors far behind, perhaps for years to come. The value of this was beyond monetary measure—it was the power of brand effect!

“You… You know Fu Cheny i?”

Fu Cheny i, the science prodigy from the Experimental Junior High, was the hot favorite to win this year’s Math Olympiad—a name known to all in the field. Yet this boy was naturally gifted—he never attended any training classes, but whenever there was a physics or math competition, he’d bring home the championship with ease, leaving the kids who’d slogged through math camps gnashing their teeth in envy. Within the training circles, everyone knew his reputation, and naturally, he was considered this year’s top contender. That’s why Principal Ding immediately thought of Fu Cheny i.

Meanwhile, Wen Xiaocheng was left thinking, who on earth is Fu Cheny i?

“As long as you can bring Fu Cheny i to our Stardust center, I’ll give you… I’ll give you a hundred thousand!” Principal Ding had initially meant to offer fifty thousand, but gritted his teeth and doubled it to a hundred! This year’s Olympiad was hosted right here in the city, with local media coverage unprecedented—winning gold would mean everything. With a shrewd kid like this, if they missed the chance and let Fu Cheny i go to Sunflower instead, it would be a massive loss. Stardust might be doomed to play second fiddle for years!

“I don’t know Fu Cheny i,” Xiaocheng replied helplessly.

“What?”

“I meant, the champion is me.”

“….” Principal Ding was speechless for a moment. He couldn’t tell whether this child was arrogant or truly confident. “Have you ever participated in any similar math competitions before?”

“No.”

“What about the junior high physics competition, or last year’s chemistry contest?”

“No, neither.”

“So how many years have you studied Math Olympiad?”

“Never have.”

Principal Ding wanted to ask if this kid was pulling his leg, but as an educator, he opted for a more civil expression: “Then on what basis do you think you can win the championship? You don’t seem to have much understanding of the Olympiad at all.”

Xiaocheng grinned. “That’s not a problem. I’m not taking your hundred thousand up front, am I? The agreement only takes effect if I win the championship. If you doubt me, why not fetch a Math Olympiad paper and let me try it on the spot?”

The courage to answer questions live suggested he might not be all talk. Principal Ding, himself a former teacher, was curious—maybe this boy really was a prodigy. After all, Fu Cheny i didn’t attend classes either but always won. This kid seemed clever enough; why not give him a try? At worst, he’d lose two hours—there was nothing pressing this afternoon anyway.

“Lixiang, bring me a set of the Olympiad questions from Teacher Jiang—the special training set for this year’s competition!”

Lixiang was Principal Ding’s assistant, a shrewd and capable professional woman who handled half the school’s affairs.

“You mean the hardest one?”

Principal Ding glanced at Xiaocheng and added into the phone, “The set that wiped out our gifted class—all of them.”

Seeing Xiaocheng’s calm arrogance, Principal Ding couldn’t help but feel competitive. Last month, the thirty-odd students in the gifted class had grown cocky, complaining the lessons were too easy. To humble them, Teacher Jiang had produced a set of extra-difficult questions—a two-hour paper, full score one hundred, with only the district’s previous gold medalist scoring 51, and no one else surpassing 50. Considering the gifted class only accepted students who had reached the Olympiad semifinals or placed in district-level math contests, the difficulty was obvious.

Soon, the assistant brought in the paper. Principal Ding felt a tinge of regret—this set far exceeded the actual Olympiad’s difficulty, bordering on the finals level. Giving this to the boy seemed unfair. He was a promising talent; confidence was good, but if he was crushed here and it affected his performance in the real contest, Ding would be to blame.

“Listen, child, let me remind you beforehand: this paper is much harder than the preliminary round—comparable to the finals. So if you can’t solve it, don’t feel pressured. Lixiang, fetch one of our regular practice sets instead.”

The assistant nodded and explained, “All our classes are off today, and the teachers’ offices are locked. I’ll have to print a set—please wait a moment.”

Besides making tea and arranging schedules, finding things was a big part of Lixiang’s job. Having done this since graduating college, she knew well to explain things upfront, so when she returned with the printouts, her efforts wouldn’t be mistaken for incompetence.

The test papers were all in electronic format. She found the most recently printed files and selected three sets. The laser printer worked quickly; after tidying them up, she knocked on the principal’s door again, then entered without waiting for a response.

With a bright smile, Assistant Lixiang presented the freshly printed tests with both hands. “Principal, I found three sets. Please see which one is suitable.”

At that moment, Principal Ding’s mouth was agape, forming a perfect O as he stared at the test from earlier, unable to close his jaw. The student visitor beside him sipped water, and, noticing Ding’s gaze, nodded politely, offering a harmless smile.

The principal said nothing—the atmosphere was odd. What had happened?

Her hands still outstretched, the principal seemed not to hear at all, so the assistant repeated, “Principal, I’ll just leave the tests on your desk. Call me if you need anything.”

“No, that’s not necessary!” Principal Ding finally found his voice.

A two-hour test paper! Most students in the gifted class left half a page blank when time was up. Yet in the time it took the assistant to print a few documents, Wen Xiaocheng had finished the whole thing!

To say “finished” was almost an understatement. When the assistant left, Xiaocheng had said there was no need for another set—this one would do. He had then leaned over Principal Ding’s desk, flipped the paper, and began writing. No scratch paper, no calculations—just wrote the answers directly. For multiple-choice, he ticked the options; for fill-in-the-blank, he wrote the answer immediately. For the first calculation question, he wrote out the steps properly; for the second, he muttered, “Principal Ding, your time is valuable—I won’t write out the steps.” From then on, each calculation question got a single number. The final two geometry proofs? Xiaocheng found them tedious, saying, “Proof questions are too wordy—I’ll just draw an auxiliary line to show the idea. This isn’t the real contest; a perfect score here doesn’t mean much, right?”

When Lixiang re-entered, Xiaocheng was already done and seated on the sofa. Principal Ding, incredulous, checked the answers one by one, his mouth opening wider with each question, and thus the scene unfolded.

———

Lixiang makes her entrance. Incidentally, when Old Dao needs character names while writing, he often chooses from the recurring-roles thread, usually giving priority to active users or top fans. After all, in a serious literary work like this, it would be odd to have a returnee named “Chen Ergou.”