After that, Old Bai behaved like a quail.
Didn’t dare talk too much, didn’t dare sneak a glance, didn’t even dare zone out. He stayed glued to his workstation, completely focused, terrified of giving anyone a reason to call him out.
At six o’clock, Jiang Fuyue rubbed her stiff neck and got ready to leave.
Old Bai and the others had already disappeared the moment the clock hit. By the time she came out of the changing room, not a trace of them was left.
Xie Dingyuan: “Let’s go.”
“You’re not using your driver anymore?”
He’d been driving himself the past couple of days.
Xie Dingyuan: “It’s convenient.”
Jiang Fuyue let out an “oh” and didn’t ask further.
On the way back, it was rush hour. The car crawled through traffic, stop and go.
Jiang Fuyue simply pulled a stack of practice tests from her bag and started working on them.
These were from Xu Jing. He was worried she might get rusty and it would affect her performance at winter camp, so he’d been digging up every tough, obscure question from past years he could find, dumping the entire collection on her like someone stocking up on cabbages for the winter—by the hundred kilos.
And Jiang Fuyue?
She wasn’t picky. If you gave her something, she’d take it. When she had free time, she’d do a few to keep her skills sharp.
There were so many test papers that she developed a system for efficiency: if she glanced at a question and knew the answer instantly, she’d skip it without even picking up her pen.
If the problem had an interesting concept or a tricky approach, she’d jot down the key steps in the margins, but wouldn’t bother solving the whole thing.
Only the truly difficult problems got her full attention and detailed calculations.
So far, though, in Xu Jing’s pile of hand-picked papers, she hadn’t encountered one that qualified. 😌
Test paper: Am I not worthy?
Xu Jing: No, I underestimated her…
Xie Dingyuan, watching her casually fill in answers like it was a fill-in-the-blank quiz, wasn’t surprised at all. While driving, he even took a moment to mentally time her—on average, one page every two minutes, switching to the next test in under five.
And she had this great habit—no scratch paper.
Once she finished the last question and scribbled down the answer, she stacked seven or eight papers together, folded them neatly, and stuffed them back into her bag with the same ease as someone packing cabbages.
Xie Dingyuan: “You’re pretty fast.”
Jiang Fuyue suddenly grew curious: “Did you ever compete in academic competitions in high school?”
“No.”
“Why not?” With his genius level, even if he didn’t want to compete, his teachers wouldn’t have let him off the hook that easily.
“Didn’t get the chance. I skipped grades.”
“Which grades did you skip?” If it was from freshman to senior year, and he still spent half a semester in high school, he’d still be eligible to compete.
Xie Dingyuan: “From middle school straight to university.”
So he never attended high school at all.
Jiang Fuyue: “……” Sorry. I’ll shut up now.
“If you wanted, you could do the same,” Xie Dingyuan said calmly. He knew exactly what kind of IQ she had. Skipping high school straight into college would be no problem.
And she had something most geniuses her age didn’t—an innate talent for scientific research.
“That kind of sense for science… it doesn’t come from reading more books, learning more formulas, or even poring over academic papers. It’s a perception—a natural intuition that exists between a person and the world of science.”
He said, “Jiang Fuyue, you were born for research.”
Those same words…
Someone had said them to her in her past life, too.
He said, “If you don’t take over the family business and dive into the world of commerce, then you’ll be the greatest physicist of the century. Me? I’d be lucky just to be your assistant—handling chores, massaging your shoulders, and bringing you tea!”
At the time, that person stood at a microscope in a white lab coat, grinning as he joked with her.
When she didn’t laugh, he blinked at her and said, “Wasn’t funny? Why aren’t you smiling, my beautiful, noble, brilliant, and unbeatable fiancée?”
This “fiancé” has appeared before—does anyone remember who he is? 👀
