My IQ has been increasing year by year.

After dinner, it wasn't completely dark outside yet.

One by one, the streetlights on campus lit up, casting a dim yellow glow on the asphalt road and attracting swarms of flying insects that fluttered around the lampshades. Wang Dayong carried an empty aluminum lunchbox in his hand, fanning himself as he walked.

"September in Huizhou is even more humid than the dog days of summer in Northeast China."

"I was sweating non-stop while eating at the third canteen, but the braised pork here is really generous, it's all meat at the bottom, no potatoes at all." Chu Ge walked next to him, a toothpick in his mouth.

"All you ever think about is eating. I just checked, and the internet in our dorm building isn't connected yet. They said it has to wait until the network is freed up. I can't live like this anymore." Chu Ge irritably spat a toothpick into the trash can by the roadside.

"My computer is just sitting there, without internet. I can't even access a BBS for researching information while I'm coding."

"It should be open in the next couple of days."

Chen Zhuo opened his mouth with a smile and said.

"Let it sit for a few days to get used to the new environment."

"That's all we can do," Chu Ge sighed.

Ahead is the Red Building, the administrative building of the Junior Class Management Committee.

This is a two-story red brick building hidden behind several large trees, with ivy creeping up the wall all the way to the second-floor window.

Tonight at 7 PM is their first class meeting in the gifted youth program.

The notice stated that the location was the multimedia classroom on the second floor of the Red Building.

The three of them walked up the stairs, their footsteps creaking on the old wooden floor.

Push open the heavy, framed wooden door at the end of the second-floor corridor.

A strong blast of cold air hit me in the face.

Wang Dayong shivered comfortably.

"Wow, this place has air conditioning, that's great."

The classroom is not big.

It's completely different from the large lecture halls with hundreds of people in ordinary departments.

There are about forty sets of individual desks and chairs here. The desks and chairs are all new, with light wood tabletops that are clean and tidy.

Because the air conditioning was on full blast, the classroom was very quiet, and even the chirping of cicadas outside the window was shut out.

More than half of the students have already arrived.

No one was making a loud noise; some people were reading with their heads down, while others were talking quietly.

Chu Ge glanced around and casually found a window seat in the back row.

Wang Dayong sat down next to him and stuffed the lunchbox into the drawer. Chen Zhuo then sat down next to Wang Dayong.

The girl I met in the afternoon, Su Wei, was sitting in the corner of the classroom.

On her desk was only the cheapest black ballpoint pen and a thin, single-lined notebook.

She kept her head down quietly, her presence barely noticeable, as if she had blended into the shadows of that corner.

As soon as he sat down, Chen Zhuo noticed the boy sitting to his right.

Lu Jia.

The neurotic roommate Chu Ge mentioned.

At this moment, Lu Jia's sitting posture was somewhat strange.

His back was not resting against the chair back at all, but was taut and straight.

He was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt, with the top button fastened all the way up, making him look very reserved.

On Lu Jia's desk sat a thick, lined notebook, its edges perfectly aligned with the edge of the desk. Above the notebook, parallel to each other, lay a blue mechanical pencil and a white eraser, the distance between them as if measured with a ruler. His hands rested flat on the desk, his gaze fixed intently on the empty blackboard in front of him.

He was like a spring wound to its limit.

The clock on the wall ticked away.

Two minutes to seven.

The door was pushed open.

A man in his fifties walked in.

The man had gray hair and a very ordinary short hairstyle.

He was wearing a gray jacket and holding a slightly chipped stainless steel thermos.

The classroom immediately fell silent.

The man walked to the front of the lectern, but did not stand behind the raised lectern.

He pulled up a wooden chair and sat down directly on the open ground to the side.

He placed the thermos on the corner of the table next to him, unscrewed the lid, blew on the steam, and took a sip of water.

Then, he raised his head and glanced at the faces of the forty-odd freshmen below.

His eyes were peaceful, with a slow, deliberate quality typical of someone who spends a lot of time with books.

"Is everyone here?"

He spoke, his voice not loud, without a megaphone, but it was clearly audible in the quiet classroom.

"My surname is Xue, and my name is Xue Boyong. I am your class teacher for this year's gifted youth class. If nothing unexpected happens, I will be following you for the next few years." Xue Boyong placed the lid of his thermos on the rim of the cup.

"Before you came here, you must have heard a lot of rumors about the gifted youth program."

He smiled.

"They say this place is a concentration camp of geniuses, that the pressure here is immense, and that you have to work late into the night every day."

The classroom was completely silent.

Chu Ge, sitting in the back row, twirled the pen in his hand and then stopped.

"I won't talk about school rules or discipline in today's class meeting."

Xue Boyong leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped on his stomach.

"I'll only say one thing: forget it."

He stopped smiling and his tone became serious.

"I know that you are all top students selected from various provinces to be sitting in this classroom. In your respective middle schools, you have probably never fallen out of the top three in your grade." "Your parents and your teachers measure you by your grades every day."

"but."

Xue Boyong extended a finger and tapped the table.

"Once you enter this door, forget about your provincial rankings and all your past perfect score exam papers."

Upon hearing this, Chen Zhuo slightly shifted his posture and calmly looked at the old man above him.

interesting.

"Outside, you are child prodigies."

Xue Boyong's voice echoed in the classroom.

"But in my eyes, you're just a bunch of eleven or twelve-year-old, fourteen or fifteen-year-old kids."

"There are no rigid rules in the gifted youth program. I don't expect you to get perfect scores in every subject."

These words caused a slight commotion in the classroom.

For the first time, the top students, who had been used to being number one since childhood, showed a hint of confusion on their faces.

Xue Boyong did not pause.

"You can play football on the playground, catch bugs in the woods, take apart radios, or even spend an entire afternoon doing nothing but sitting by the lake and daydreaming." "These past few years, I've only given you one task."

"Find something you truly love and are willing to do for the rest of your life."

"Whether it's physics, mathematics, computer science, or studying history in the library."

"As long as you find it, even if you only scored 60 points or barely passed in other subjects, you'll still be considered a good student by me."

Chu Ge, sitting in the back row, let out a long breath, leaned back, and slumped against the chair.

"This old man is to my liking."

Chu Ge muttered something under his breath.

Wang Dayong grinned as well.

At this moment, most of the newborns' shoulders visibly relaxed.

There was no pressure, no intimidation.

This is an extremely gentle and quite tolerant opening.

but.

Chen Zhuo, sitting next to Lu Jia, noticed Lu Jia's unusual behavior.

Lu Jia did not tremble, nor did she grit her teeth.

He just sat there blankly, as if he had suddenly frozen in place.

When others hear "you don't need to get a perfect score" or "find your passion," it's a relief.

But in Lu Jia's eyes, there was a sense of utter bewilderment, as if she had no defenses.

From a young age, he was instilled by his parents with the idea that a perfect score is everything and that being number one is the only value.

Only by answering all the questions correctly can you earn a smile from your parents.

Now, the teacher told him that he no longer needed a perfect score.

What criteria should be used to measure him?

Without grades as a yardstick, how can he prove he's useful? How can he explain himself to his family?

"Passion"

What is it?

Lu Jia's eyes were fixed, and her fingers unconsciously tightened their grip on the pen.

Xue Boyong picked up his thermos, took a sip of water, and cleared his throat.

"Let's get down to business."

The classroom fell silent again.

"There is a diagnostic test tomorrow at 2 pm."

As soon as Xue Boyong finished speaking, the air seemed to freeze for a second.

Lu Jia moved slightly, her hand holding the pen hovering in mid-air, ready to take notes.

test.

He was all too familiar with that word.

Tests produce scores, and scores lead to rankings.

He regained a little sense of security.

"Don't be nervous, everyone." Xue Boyong waved his hand. "This test won't cover the syllabus, and it won't be included in your final grades." "There's only one question on the test."

Xue Boyong looked at the dozens of pairs of eyes below.

Write down what you think is the most beautiful formula, any formula will do, and explain in your own words why it is beautiful.

Quiet.

A deathly silence.

Chu Ge scratched his hair in the back row.

"What kind of test was this?"

The students in the front row looked at each other in bewilderment.

Looking at the empty blackboard in front of her, Lu Jia's blankness slowly turned into a panicked sense of helplessness.

The most beautiful formula?

What is beauty?

Euler's formula? Maxwell's equations? Or Newton's second law?

Which one is the standard answer?

Which answer will get full marks?

The teacher said grades wouldn't matter.

How could they possibly disregard grades? This is definitely a hidden screening process.

There must be evaluation criteria.

If I write it wrong, will I be judged as having no talent?

In Lu Jia's mind, all sorts of complex equations and geometric figures were intertwined, forming a chaotic mess.

He lowered his head, subconsciously trying to write down exactly what the teacher had just said, and then analyze it word by word when he got back.

He placed the pen tip on the clean, white lined paper.

My mind was completely blank; I didn't know what to remember, and the force in my hands unconsciously increased.

"Smack."

A crisp sound.

The mechanical pencil lead broke due to excessive force.

The broken piece of lead core left a short black mark on the paper.

Lu Jia was stunned for a moment.

As he stared at the broken pen tip, the panic of losing his bearings reached its peak.

He put down his pen, unzipped the backpack next to him, and looked for a replacement pen.

His schoolbag was stuffed with newly issued books and various notebooks. The more flustered he became, the more clumsy his movements appeared.

He rummaged through the box, making a clattering sound, but he couldn't find the small box for refills.

A long, narrow plastic box was pushed over from the side.

It stopped silently beside Lu Jia's hand.

It's a refill box for mechanical pencils.

Lu Jia stopped searching.

He picked up the lead core box, opened the plastic lid, and poured out a thin lead core.

He tried to insert the lead into the pen tip, but because his attention wasn't on his hand and his mind was filled with the helplessness of having lost his sense of direction regarding the standard answer, he couldn't align it with the hole in the pen tip even after two attempts. The lead fell onto the table.

Lu Jia lowered her head, looking at the thin lead core, her eyes filled with helplessness.

A hand reached out.

That hand didn't touch the pen in Lu Jia's hand, nor did it help him refill the pen.

It simply landed smoothly on the notebook in front of Lu Jia.

He put his four fingers together and pressed them gently on the paper.

Lu Jia's movements stopped.

He stared blankly at the hand pressing down on the notebook.

There is no standard answer to this question.

A voice sounded from the side.

His voice was low, his tone was flat, without any inflection or emotion.

It's like reading an instruction manual.

Chen Zhuo withdrew his hand.

He didn't look at the teacher lecturing, but turned his head to look at Lu Jia, who looked completely bewildered.

"You're just writing 1+1=2 on this blank sheet of paper."

Chen Zhuo looked into Lu Jia's eyes and said, word by word.

"Tell the teacher that this is the origin of human mathematics and the cornerstone of all complex formulas."

"He will still stamp it as qualified."

Lu Jia sat there, mouth agape.

Chen Zhuo picked up the water glass on the table.

He unscrewed the cap and pushed the water glass into the gap between the two of them.

A wisp of steam rose from the cup.

There is no standard answer, nor does it mean anything in particular.

Chen Zhuo pointed to the replacement core on the table.

"Have some water, your pen refill fell on the table."

The air conditioner's airflow blows over my head.

Lu Jia looked at the thin pen refill on the table, then glanced at Chen Zhuo, who stood calmly beside her.

The sense of bewilderment that felt like it was about to crush his chest suddenly dissipated.

Yes.

There are no scores, no rankings.

It's also acceptable to write 1+1=2.

Lu Jia slowly put down the mechanical pencil in her hand.

He leaned back in his chair and suddenly felt a chill on his back, only then realizing that his shirt had gotten wet.

He let out a long breath.

Take your hands off the table and place them on your knees.

"Th...thank you."

Lu Jia's voice was soft, carrying a hint of weakness as she had just regained her balance.

Chen Zhuo didn't say anything, but simply took the water glass back and tightened the lid.

On the topic.

Xue Boyong saw all of this.

He neither stopped them nor came down to ask.

The old professor picked up his thermos, took a sip of tea, and a barely perceptible smile appeared on his lips.

He put down his cup and cleared his throat.

"Alright, that's all for tomorrow's test."

Xue Boyong stood up and pushed the chair back to its original position.

"That concludes today's first class meeting. Go home and get a good night's sleep. See you tomorrow afternoon."

After saying that, he took his thermos, turned around, and walked out of the classroom.

The atmosphere in the classroom instantly became lively.

"That's it? Not even a class monitor or anything?" Chu Ge stretched in the back row.

"That's good, I hate meetings the most." Wang Dayong stood up and patted his butt.

The students walked out one after another.

Lu Jia sat in her seat, slowly put the pen refill in, closed the notebook, and carefully put it into her schoolbag.

He zipped up the backpack and slung it over his shoulder.

He turned his head and looked at Chen Zhuo, who was about to leave.

"My name is Lu Jia."

He said it carefully.

Chen Zhuo took the book in his hand and stood up.

"Chen Zhuo".

Lu Jia nodded, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and walked out of the classroom.

His back was still very straight, but his shoulders were not as stiff as before.

Chen Zhuo walked to the door and met up with Chu Ge and Wang Dayong.

Wang Dayong looked at Lu Jia walking ahead and nudged Chu Ge with his elbow.

"Hey, isn't that your roommate? Aren't you going to invite her back together?"

Chu Ge took out a coin from his pocket and pursed his lips.

"Shut up. Look at how crazy he was just now. I can't even breathe walking with him. Let him go first, we'll stroll around slowly behind." "Let's go, back to the dorm."

Wang Dayong shook his head and didn't interfere any further.

Pushing open the door of the Red Mansion, the heat wave outside hits you again.

The flying insects under the streetlights continued to tirelessly bump against the lampshade.

Chu Ge looked at Chen Zhuo walking ahead.

"What were you whispering about with that nerd just now? I think he was scared out of his wits."

Chen Zhuo walked in the shadows of the trees.

"It's nothing."

He looked up at the streetlight.

"Just tell him what the exam is tomorrow."