Twenty minutes later, Ling Xuan and Guo Zidong raised their hands at the same time.
“Teacher, I’m done.”
He Longchang: “?”
It’s only been fifty minutes.
Looks like those 4.5 hours were totally wasted.
Ten minutes after that, Wei Kongjue, Wu Pingting, Chen Cheng, and Tan Jiaxu submitted their papers.
Once outside—
Chen Cheng asked, “How was it?”
Tan Jiaxu: “Not too difficult.”
Chen Cheng: “We’ll need to stay sharp this afternoon then.”
Tan Jiaxu’s eyes immediately grew sharp.
The first three problems were plain and ordinary—it was clear the real gap would show in the last three.
They went to the cafeteria. Jiang Fuyue and Ling Xuan had already gotten their meals. Chen Cheng and Tan Jiaxu wolfed theirs down and dashed to the dorms.
There were still five hours until the afternoon exam—enough time to grind through another problem set and take a nap.
…
Back in the office, He Longchang returned, test papers tucked under his arm.
Li Zhao: “That quick?”
He Longchang: “The questions were easy. Everyone handed in early.”
Xiang Pengyi chuckled, a bit cryptically:
“Let’s hope they’re just as relaxed this afternoon…”
“By the way, question for you.”
“Go ahead.”
He Longchang: “That Jiang Fuyue—she really does problems without using scratch paper?”
Li Zhao nodded. “Noticed on day one.”
Yuan Bentao: “Call her up in class and she can give you the answer on the spot. Ask her how she got it? She says, ‘My brain gave it to me.’”
He Longchang was silent for a moment.
“…This student’s something else.”
—
That afternoon, the test rooms didn’t change, but the difficulty of the problems was on a whole different level compared to the morning.
The very first question had everyone stunned and scratching their heads.
Given complex numbers z₁, z₂, z₃ with modulus no greater than 1, and w₁, w₂ as roots of the equation X = 0, prove that for j = 1, 2, 3, min… ≤ 1.
At first glance, it looked like an algebra problem, but most students instinctively approached it with geometry, since that’s how the teachers had trained them. Previous mock tests had similar questions.
No hesitation—everyone jumped into geometric thinking.
But the further they got, the more puzzled they became.
Something’s off.
This doesn’t feel like what we’ve been taught.
And worst of all—you get stuck halfway through!
Everyone froze.
When Jiang Fuyue read the question, she immediately compared it to problems she’d done in the past—and sure enough, it only looked similar.
In truth, it was completely different.
The missing condition and the added equation restriction changed the essence of the problem—you had to use algebra or a hybrid of algebra and geometry.
Pure geometry? Dead end.
On Chen Cheng and Tan Jiaxu’s side, they also initially thought geometry. But just before putting pen to paper, they remembered what Jiang Fuyue once said: “If the question isn’t exactly the same, don’t assume it is.”
They caught the extra equation restriction.
So they quickly tested geometry on scratch paper—got stuck by step two—and switched gears immediately, using algebra.
They also recalled another one of Jiang Fuyue’s sayings: “Don’t just keep your head down pulling the cart. Learn to look up and see the road ahead. Direction is more important than effort.”
Jiang Fuyue finished the first problem in ten minutes.
As she flipped the page, Yuan Bentao heard the sound and glanced over, raising his eyebrows.
Was she done?
Or skipping it?
The second question also tested algebra.
It was about the reverse Cauchy inequality in convex sequences.
Originally discovered by mathematician Alzer from country D, it’s since been extensively studied by experts and has multiple advanced findings.
Coincidentally, Jiang Fuyue had read papers on the topic and was familiar with several proven theorems.
One of them happened to relate directly to this question. If she could apply it, the problem would only take three steps.
But IMO rules clearly state: only high school-level knowledge is allowed.
No calculus. No linear algebra.
You could use them—but you had to derive everything from scratch using high school methods.
Jiang Fuyue did a mental count. Yep—the derivation was going to be long and complex.
Ten minutes in, she raised her hand:
“I need an extra sheet.”
Yuan Bentao froze. “What’s wrong?”
“I ran out of space.”
In the end, he gave her a blank sheet.
Everyone else: “?”
What kind of monster question needs more paper—even for Jiang Fuyue?
Suddenly their confidence dropped even further.
She spent twenty full minutes on the second problem.
Not only did she fill every inch of her original sheet, she also used up the added one.
When Yuan Bentao passed by her desk and glanced down, he was stunned.
That second question took that many steps?
No way.
What’s she even doing?
In contrast, the third question was the easiest.
Jiang Fuyue only needed eight minutes.
So, at the 38-minute mark, she raised her hand again—
Another submission!
A collective gasp filled the exam room.
Holy cr*p—she’s even faster than this morning?!
We’re doomed!
Is she even human?!
If they could crack open her head to peek inside, they absolutely would.
Seeing Professor Yuan frozen in place made the rest of them feel just a bit better.
…
Ling Xuan submitted his paper two hours in.
While the others were still shaken by Jiang Fuyue’s early submission, Ling Xuan kept his head down, focused and steady.
He was used to it.
Other people panicked. He stayed chill.
When the devil’s beside you every day, you get numb to fear.
Chen Cheng came out at 3 hours and 15 minutes, more than an hour after Ling Xuan—but from his face, it looked like he’d done well.
Tan Jiaxu followed five minutes later, smiling too.
The four didn’t discuss the questions or compare answers.
Chen Cheng: “Finally done!”
Tan Jiaxu: “After a brutal week, I can finally sleep like a rock tonight.”
Jiang Fuyue suddenly asked, “When did Guo Zidong and Wei Kongjue submit?”
They were in the second testing room—she didn’t know.
Chen Cheng: “No idea. But when Tan Jiaxu came out, they still hadn’t.”
Jiang Fuyue’s lips curved slightly.
“Good.”
Tan Jiaxu and Chen Cheng exchanged a glance—tacit understanding.
That evening, Ling Xuan treated them to a big dinner off campus.
Of course, as a rich young master, he went all out—Western cuisine at one of the top three restaurants in the capital.
Chen Cheng: “Ah, being rich is so nice.”
Tan Jiaxu: “Burp—this cursed smell of money…”
When they came out, night had fully fallen.
Streetlights bright, neon flashing.
Just as they were about to grab a taxi back, Jiang Fuyue got a call.
She responded with two quick “Okay”s, then said she wouldn’t be returning with them.
Ling Xuan frowned.
“It’s not safe for you to be alone.”
“Relax. I know what I’m doing.”
Knowing he couldn’t convince her, he just said:
“Call if anything happens. Don’t stay out too late.”
“Got it.”
The three got into a car and left.
Five minutes later, a black Mercedes-Benz pulled up in front of Jiang Fuyue.
She opened the door and got into the front seat.
Xie Dingyuan: “Congratulations.”
Jiang Fuyue, raising a brow: “For what?”
“Gold at the IMO—almost certain.”
“They haven’t even announced the national team yet. Isn’t this a bit early?”
“I’m saying it now, in case I don’t get the chance later.”
Jiang Fuyue was a little surprised.
“What’s going on with you?”
She now noticed how tired he looked. Exhaustion around his eyes and brows. His skin was pale, making his dark circles stand out.
On the phone earlier, he’d insisted on seeing her—wouldn’t take no for an answer.
To be honest, Jiang Fuyue had felt a little annoyed.
But now…
Xie Dingyuan’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His voice was deep and slightly hoarse:
“I’m leaving for Africa tomorrow. Might be gone three months, maybe half a year, maybe longer. I probably won’t be around to witness you winning gold— So I wanted to congratulate you in advance.”
“Africa? For work?”
But to her knowledge, Hanqing Group didn’t have business there.
He shook his head.
“Then?”
“…Sorry. I can’t say.”
Jiang Fuyue didn’t push.
“Okay. I’ll accept it.”
The man smiled faintly.
“Also—this.”
Like a magician, he pulled out a bouquet of roses.
“Another early gift?”
“Mm.”
“Alright.” Jiang Fuyue accepted it without fuss, holding it in her arms.
As she lowered her head, the scent of the flowers filled her nose.
Suddenly—click!
She looked up, startled. Another click!—this time with flash.
It was Xie Dingyuan, holding his phone up to take photos of her.
“You…”
“You looked beautiful. I’ll send them to you.”
As soon as he finished speaking, her WeChat buzzed twice.
He actually sent them.
Then he tucked away his phone and gripped the wheel.
“I’ll take you back.”
He had come in a rush and was clearly leaving in one too. It really seemed like this trip was just to say “congratulations” in person.
Oh—and to give her a bouquet of roses.
Jiang Fuyue’s eyes flickered with confusion, but she didn’t overthink it. She turned and walked through the school gates.
—
The next day, the results were posted.
All 34 members of the training team showed up.
The teacher hadn’t arrived yet, and the classroom buzzed with chatter.
Chen Cheng: “Did you guys see the news this morning?”
Tan Jiaxu shook his head.
“What happened? Something big?”
Chen Cheng:
“Apparently, an unknown virus has broken out in Africa. More than 200 dead. The Taji government has issued an emergency request to China— They’re asking for a team of experts…”
