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

The proctor's gaze changed.

He has been teaching for twenty years, although he doesn't teach Chinese—he teaches mathematics—but he can still distinguish between good and bad writing.

These few lines, this sentence structure, this parallelism, the density and precision of allusions…

It didn't sound like a college entrance exam essay; it sounded more like a classic masterpiece he had read in ancient books.

But he had never seen this article before.

His fingers unconsciously tightened around the answer sheet as he scanned downwards.

The majestic city stands amidst a dense fog, its talented people shining like stars. The city walls and towers mark the border between the civilized and the barbarian lands, and its guests and hosts represent the finest of the southeast.

During the ten-day holiday, friends gathered like clouds; guests came from afar to welcome us, and the hall was filled with distinguished guests.

He looked up at Chen Mo.

The boy stood in front of the podium, his expression calm, his eyes showing no arrogance, no nervousness, and not even the smugness of handing in his paper early.

There's only a sense of relief, like the feeling after accomplishing something.

"Excuse me, classmate..."

The proctor opened his mouth as if to say something, but the exam rules did not allow him to communicate too much with the candidates.

He simply nodded in the end. "Take your documents and you can go now."

Chen Mo nodded and turned to walk out of the examination room.

His footsteps faded into the distance in the corridor.

The examination room was quiet for about three seconds.

Then--

Holy crap.

A low-pitched gasp came from somewhere.

"Submit the exam an hour early?"

The girl sitting next to him muttered something under her breath, her voice filled with disbelief.

She was still writing the second paragraph of her essay, struggling for forty minutes to come up with three hundred words, while the other person had already handed it in and left.

A chubby examinee sat near the door, his pen hovering in mid-air, his mouth slightly open.

He had just finished writing the title of his essay, but hadn't changed a single word of the main text.

As he watched Chen Mo walk away, he suddenly felt as if his intelligence had been subjected to a dimensional reduction attack.

The proctor coughed lightly, glanced around the exam room, and signaled everyone to remain quiet and concentrate on answering the questions.

The parents outside the door had not yet dispersed.

Several mothers holding sunflowers saw him come out.

His face first showed surprise, then quickly turned to sympathy—

"Did this child not do well on the test?"

"Leaving an hour early probably means they've given up."

"Oh, how pitiful."

Chen Mo did not hear these words.

He walked to the shade of a sycamore tree by the roadside, took out a bottle of mineral water from his pocket, unscrewed the cap, and took a sip.

The water was warm, warmed by the sun.

He leaned against the tree trunk and looked up at the sky.

The sky was very blue, as blue as if it had been washed with water in June.

A few white clouds drifted lazily by, their shape resembling a bird spreading its wings.

He suddenly remembered the last sentence of "Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng"—

"Please pour out the Pan River, and let each of you pour out the clouds from the land and sea."

That's Wang Bo saying: "Everyone, please unleash your talents to the fullest, like Pan Yue and Lu Ji."

But he wasn't using his own talent.

He scattered the stars of a bygone era.

Chen Mo tightened the cap on the mineral water bottle, stuffed it back into his pocket, and then started walking towards "home".

Chen Mo was the first person to walk out of the examination center.

When he appeared at the school gate, the area outside the iron gate was still empty.

The security guard stood at the door, idly dangling his keychain.

Then Chen Mo came out.

"They're out! They're out!"

Someone shouted, and everyone's eyes immediately turned to them.

The reporters rushed over as if they had heard the starting gun.

Television stations, newspapers, and new media outlets—all their cameras and microphones were instantly aimed at Chen Mo.

A female reporter with a ponytail ran ahead and started shouting before she could even hold the microphone properly.

"Hey! You're the first one out of the exam room! How did it go?"

The parents also pushed forward a few steps.

Some people took out their phones and started taking pictures, while others whispered among themselves—

"The first one to come out is either a top student or someone who gave up."

"You seem pretty calm."

"What's with the calm? You probably just can't write anymore."

"The Chinese exam was two and a half hours long, and he came out in an hour and a half? That's incredibly fast."

Chen Mo stood on the steps at the school gate.

In front of him were a dozen microphones, three or four cameras, and dozens of pairs of eyes staring at him.

The sunlight was dazzling, and he squinted slightly.

The female reporter held the microphone to his mouth and asked, panting.

"Student, you're the first one to walk out of the exam room! Tell everyone, how difficult was the Chinese exam this year?"

Chen Mo thought for a moment.

"It's alright," he said.

"So how do you feel about your test score? Did you estimate your score?"

Chen Mo glanced at the camera, then at the parents and reporters around him who were listening intently.

He originally wanted to say "performed normally," but then he thought—if he said "performed normally," these people wouldn't know how "normal" he meant.

The original owner's grades would only cause more trouble if revealed.

Okay, let's just tell the truth.

"It should be so-so, around 148," he said.

After he said that, there was a silence for about a second.

Then--

"puff--"

I don't know which reporter laughed first.

That was a man carrying a camera.

He was in his early thirties, with a scruffy beard, and stood behind the camera looking exhausted.

Upon hearing this, I couldn't help but tremble, causing the camera to shake.

He quickly tried to keep his expression straight, but he couldn't suppress the smile on his lips.

That laugh was like toppling the first domino.

"148 in Chinese? You could probably count the number of people in the entire province who could get that score on one hand, right?"

"you do not say."

"Kids these days, they can't keep their mouths shut after the exams."

Another mother, dressed in a cheongsam, was recording with her phone, intending to take a picture of the "first examinee to leave the examination room" and post it on her WeChat Moments.

After hearing Chen Mo's words.

She couldn't help but glance down at her phone screen to make sure the recording was still going on, then muttered to herself, "This kid has quite the nerve."

There was no malice in her tone, but there was also no belief.

The cameraman who laughed first finally couldn't hold back anymore.

He put down the camera, turned to look at the female reporter, and spoke in a voice that only the two of them could hear.

"This is great material! 'A test taker claims to have scored 148 in Chinese,' wouldn't it go viral online?"

The female reporter ignored him, but the corners of her mouth curled up slightly.

She's interviewed so many college entrance exam takers over the years, what kind of test takers hasn't she seen?

Some cried after the exam, some laughed, some remained silent, some made heart shapes with their hands for the camera—but this is the first time I've seen someone say "148" right after the exam.

Moreover, the candidate spoke too calmly when saying "one hundred and forty-eight".

It's not the kind of boasting like "I got 148 points, I'm so awesome".

It wasn't the kind of stubbornness that goes, "I know you don't believe me, but I'm going to say it anyway."

He simply stated a number calmly, as if saying, "The weather is nice today."

This calmness, rather than any exaggerated expression, seemed more absurd...

One hundred and forty-eight points.

Chinese language and literature.

The full score is 150.

This means he only lost two points.