A perfect score on the college entrance exam? The Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng has astonis

Dean Fang leaned back in his chair and slowly looked around at the people in the conference room.

"In other words,"

Her voice wasn't loud, but every word she spoke was firm and resounding.

"This candidate, Chen Mo, achieved a perfect score in every subject. It wasn't luck, it wasn't coincidence, it was genuine—a perfect score."

No one speaks.

Dean Fang was silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled.

There was something very complex in that smile—not just simple joy, but a profound sense of awe and wonder.

"The National College Entrance Examination (Gaokao) has been reinstated for over forty years."

She said, "There has never been a perfect score before. But in our year, we had one."

She paused, then added.

"It's not about how many points he can get—it's about how many points the exam paper can cover."

Everyone understood what she meant—750 points was not his limit, but the limit of this test paper.

...

...

The people in the Chinese language exam marking hall did not disperse.

It's not that we don't want to break up, it's that we can't.

That essay, "Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng," was like a bomb, throwing the entire grading team into chaos.

Professor Xu Mingyuan gave it a perfect score.

The news quickly spread within the marking team.

Xu Mingyuan sat in the corner, holding a thermos cup with peeling paint.

3 PM.

The final rankings for the overall groups have been released.

A young technician jogged into the Chinese language marking hall.

Holding a stack of printed A4 papers, his expression was as if he had seen a ghost.

"Professor Xu! Team Leader Sun!"

The technician's voice boomed in the quiet hall.

"The overall rankings are out! Guess how many points the first place got?"

Everyone looked up at the same time.

"Chen Mo." The technician swallowed hard, his voice trembling. "Total score—750."

The Chinese language marking hall was silent for a full five seconds.

Then, as if someone had pressed play, all sorts of sounds burst forth simultaneously—

"What?!"

"750?!"

"Perfect score?!"

"impossible!"

Xu Mingyuan almost dropped his thermos.

He suddenly stood up, and the chair tipped backward.

It crashed to the ground with a loud thud, but he didn't notice at all.

"How much did you say?"

His voice rose eight octaves.

"750!"

The technician handed over the ranking list.

"Perfect scores in all six subjects! Chinese 150, Math 150, Foreign Language 150, Science 300! Not a single point deducted!"

Xu Mingyuan snatched the ranking list, his eyes scanning the row of data—

Chen Mo.

750.

His fingers began to tremble.

It wasn't because of the cold, but because...

He found that his understanding had been completely shattered.

He thought that essay was the limit.

A preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng.

More than 700 words.

This left the entire marking team speechless.

He thought this was the high school senior's only trump card—a masterpiece for all time!

enough.

I've had enough of the highlights of my life.

But he only found out now.

That's just the tip of the iceberg.

This boy didn't just get a perfect score in Chinese—he got perfect scores in all subjects.

Sun Jianguo stood to the side, staring at the numbers on the ranking list, his lips slightly parted, unable to speak for a long time.

"750 points..." Sun Jianguo muttered to himself.

"Who is this person...?"

Someone whispered something in the corner, their voice filled with awe.

No one answered.

Because nobody knows the answer.

Xu Mingyuan stood still.

The ranking list was crumpled in his hands.

His brain was racing, but it wasn't working on academic thinking; it was working on something more primal—a sense of crisis.

He turned his head and looked at Sun Jianguo.

Their eyes met in the air. They didn't speak, but they both understood the meaning in each other's eyes.

It’s over.

Tsinghua and Peking Universities are about to get started.

Xu Mingyuan took a deep breath, turned around, walked to the corner, and took out his phone.

This time he didn't lower his voice.

Because it's no longer necessary—everyone knows what he's going to do.

"Old Zhang, it's me. Things have changed."

His voice was urgent and serious.

"That candidate—Chen Mo—didn't just get a perfect score in Chinese. He got a perfect score in all subjects. His total score was 750."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.

"Did you hear that? 750 points. The first perfect score in the history of the National College Entrance Examination."

"Listen to me."

Xu Mingyuan's voice became resolute.

"It's not a matter of 'finding a way' anymore. It's a matter of 'must'. You must get ahead of Tsinghua and Peking University. Not tomorrow, not this afternoon—it's now. Immediately."

...

Two days before the results were announced, Chen Mo's phone rang.

He glanced at the screen—Su Wanci.

He answered the call.

"Chen Mo, let's go out and play tomorrow!"

Su Wanci's voice came through the receiver, carrying a light and cheerful tone.

"It's been over half a month since the college entrance exam ended. Aren't you bored staying at home every day?"

Chen Mo glanced at the stack of university physics textbooks on his bedside table—he was indeed bored, but he was bored in a very fulfilling way.

The quantum mechanical framework of this world is slightly different from his understanding in his previous life, and he is comparing and contrasting them.

"I--"

"You're not allowed to say you don't want to go."

Su Wanci interrupted him.

"Tangtang is coming too, so it'll just be the three of us. You promised me you'd spend a day shopping with me after your exams. You said it yourself, have you forgotten?"

Chen Mo rummaged through his memories.

It really happened—the original owner was pestered by Su Wanci during one evening self-study session and did casually agree.

He probably didn't take it seriously at the time, but Su Wanci clearly remembered it.

"Alright."

Chen Mo asked, "What time?"

"2 PM, first floor of MixC Shopping Mall! No lateness allowed!"

The phone hangs up.

Chen Mo threw his phone onto the bed and sighed.

He really didn't want to go.

But since things have come to this point, it wouldn't be appropriate not to go.

"Just consider it a way to clear your head."

He muttered something to himself, then pulled a white T-shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans from the closet and placed them on the bedside table.

At 2 PM the next day, Chen Mo appeared on time next to the fountain on the first floor of MixC Mall.

Su Wanci has arrived.

She wore a light blue dress today, her long hair was down, and she wore a small pearl hair clip.

Standing beside the fountain, the water mist was blown by the wind and scattered behind her into a fine, shimmering layer of fragments.

Well, it really is beautiful.

It's not the kind of beauty that's intensely beautiful, but rather the kind of beauty that makes you feel better after looking at it.

"You've finally arrived!"

Su Wanci's eyes lit up when she saw him, and she quickly walked over.

"I thought you were going to stand me up."

"I'll come if I promise."

Chen Mo stood in front of her with his hands in his pockets, maintaining a distance that was neither too close nor too far.

Su Wanci seemed to sense something—when Chen Mo used to stand in front of her, his eyes always held a kind of cautious joy.

But now, Chen Mo's gaze towards her was as calm as a still pond. Not indifferent, but rather... too composed.

Before she could think it through, she heard footsteps behind her.

"Evening porcelain!"

"Wait me a moment!"

A girl with a high ponytail jogged over, carrying two shopping bags, panting.

...

...