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

The expressions on the faces of the admissions officers were priceless—like people enjoying a delicious meal whose chopsticks had been taken away, leaving them wanting more but unable to retaliate.

"Three days?" someone muttered quietly.

"Three days is a bit too long."

"Chen Mo, look—"

Chen Mo didn't speak, he just stood there, looking at them calmly.

That calmness wasn't rejection or hesitation, but a firm conviction that "I've made up my mind."

Like a closed door, you can stand at the door and continue talking, but the door won't reopen because of what you say.

Professor Li from Tsinghua University was the first to react.

He stood up, smiled and nodded: "Three days is fine. This is a major life decision, you should think it over carefully. Chen Mo, we'll wait for you."

Teachers from Peking University, Fudan University, and Zhejiang University also stood up one after another, with professional smiles on their faces, but their eyes showed a hint of resentment.

See you in three days, Chen Mo.

"Think it over carefully. Our school's doors are always open for you."

Whatever decision is made, we will respect it.

Polite words came in like a tide, and then receded like a tide.

A dozen or so people filed out of the conference room, and the sound of footsteps and hushed conversations echoed in the corridor as they walked away.

People gradually left the meeting room, and the footsteps and conversations in the corridor faded into the distance.

Principal Wang stood at the door, his smile still radiant, like a flower in full bloom, his wrinkles revealing his pride.

Chen Mo turned to look at Su Wanci: "Let's go."

Su Wanci nodded and was about to leave.

"Chen Mo."

A voice came from behind me, not loud, but steady.

Chen Mo stopped and turned around.

The homeroom teacher, Lao Fang, was still leaning against the windowsill, arms crossed over his chest.

He looked like he had been standing there for a long time.

He had just seen off several admissions officers, but he didn't leave with them.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating his bald head and making his glasses reflect two white beams of light, obscuring his eyes.

"Teacher Fang."

Chen Mo nodded.

Old Fang straightened up and took two steps forward.

It stopped in front of Chen Mo.

He looked at the student he had taught for two years, his lips moved a few times, as if he was considering something.

"I have a question for you."

Old Fang finally spoke, his voice a little hoarse, as if words he had been holding back for a long time were finally squeezed out of his throat.

"What exactly did you write in your college entrance exam essay?"

He added in his mind, "I've taught Chinese for fifteen years and graded papers for over a decade. I want to know—what kind of essay deserves a perfect score?"

Chen Mo looked at him without saying a word.

Old Fang's gaze, peering through his glasses, landed directly on Chen Mo's face.

There was curiosity and confusion in his eyes.

There is also something that cannot be explained or described.

It's like someone who's played chess for half their life, and when they hear that someone beat a national champion in one move, they want to see what that move was.

At that moment, the footsteps that hadn't gone far in the corridor stopped.

Professor Li from Tsinghua University was the first to turn back, standing at the door and peering inside.

Next was Professor Zhang from Peking University, followed by those from Fudan University and Zhejiang University.

They had just reached the stairwell when they heard Lao Fang's words, and they all stopped in their tracks.

They stood at the doorway, like a group of cats that had caught the smell of fish.

"composition?"

Teacher Li repeated the sentence in a low voice, her eyes flickering.

Teacher Zhang had already walked back to the meeting room door, and the expression on her face changed from "goodbye" to "stay and see".

They knew that Chen Mo's total score was full marks.

I got full marks in Chinese.

But what exactly was written in the essay?

They don't know either.

The content of the grading is confidential; they only know the results, not the process.

Now that the homeroom teacher is about to reveal the answer to this mystery, how could they possibly leave?

The group exchanged glances, then tacitly returned to the meeting room and each found a chair to sit down.

His movements were so natural, as if he had never left.

Principal Wang was already about to see the guests off.

Seeing this scene, my feet seemed to be rooted to the spot, and I didn't move.

He turned around.

I gently closed the meeting room door behind me.

It wasn't closed, it was covered, with a crack left open, as if afraid someone outside might hear it.

It was as if they were afraid someone inside would escape.

Su Wanci stood next to Chen Mo and sensed that the atmosphere had changed.

That lively, noisy conference room, which looked like a vegetable market, just now.

The silence is different now.

All eyes were on Chen Mo.

Chen Mo was silent for two seconds, then smiled.

The smile was faint, so faint that the curve was almost invisible.

But Su Wanci saw it.

That wasn't a composed smile.

It's like someone who's been hiding a painting, and when someone finally asks about it, they casually uncover the cloth covering it.

"Okay," he said.

Old Fang was stunned for a moment.

He didn't expect Chen Mo to agree so readily.

He thought Chen Mo would make excuses.

They might say, "I can't remember."

They would say, "Let's talk about it after the results are announced."

But Chen Mo simply said "okay".

Then he turned his head and glanced at the meeting room to see if there were any paper and pens.

Principal Wang reacted the fastest, practically running to the next office to get paper and a pen.

A stack of A4 paper.

There was also a black ballpoint pen, the cap still warm from his palm.

Chen Mo took the pen, walked to the conference table, and spread the paper out.

He didn't sit down, but stood there, slightly bent over, the pen tip hovering above the paper for a moment.

The conference room was so quiet it was as if no one was there.

Everyone was looking at that pen.

Then Chen Mo put pen to paper.

No one spoke when the first stroke was made.

The second stroke, the third stroke, the fourth stroke—he wrote very quickly.

It was so fast it didn't feel like "writing," but more like rushing across a piece of paper.

The sound of the pen nib scratching against the paper was particularly clear in the quiet meeting room, a soft, rustling sound like autumn rain falling on withered leaves.

Old Fang stood behind him, craning his neck to look.

When the first line of text appeared, he frowned slightly.

[Yuzhang, the old prefecture; Hongdu, the new capital.]

Classical Chinese?

He glanced at the back of Chen Mo's head but didn't say anything.

Writing classical Chinese in the college entrance exam essay takes real courage.

But he continued reading.

[The stars are divided into Wing and Chariot constellations, the land borders Heng and Lu. It embraces the three rivers and girdles the five lakes, controlling the barbarian lands of Jing and leading to the lands of Ou and Yue.]

Old Fang frowned even more deeply—not because it was bad, but because he realized he didn't recognize the article.

He had taught Chinese for fifteen years and read countless classical Chinese texts, but he had never seen these few sentences in any anthology of classical Chinese literature.

[The land is rich in natural resources, its dragon light shining upon the ruins of the Ox and the Dipper constellations; its people are outstanding, its spirit is exceptional, as evidenced by Xu Ru's visit to Chen Fan's couch.]

Old Fang's hands began to tremble.

His fingers unconsciously gripped the back of the chair, his knuckles turning white.

His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't utter a single word.

His gaze was fixed on those words, as if nailed to them by something, unable to look away, and unwilling to look away.

...

...