C10 It Was a Difficult Test!

To prepare for Fong Mann's surprise assessment, Hsiao Rann took a simple approach: he spent the following day visiting several large bookstores, staying two hours in each. In total, he spent less than a day on this task.

Hsiao Rann was indeed getting ready, but it would be more accurate to say he was skimming rather than reading. Amidst the astonished looks from the librarian and other onlookers, Hsiao Rann would grab a book, quickly leaf through it, and upon finishing, close his eyes to silently recap what he'd just seen.

Regardless, Hsiao Rann was aware that he had effectively scanned the contents of those books into his mind. Indeed, "scanning" was the only term that could aptly describe the speed of his reading.

Naturally, he focused on books about ancient texts.

"Excuse me, if you're not here to read, could you please refrain from aimlessly flipping through the books? You've pulled down so many and haven't read them, let alone returned them to their proper places. You're just making things difficult for others, aren't you?"

A pretty girl at Xinhua Bookstore finally confronted Hsiao Rann about his peculiar behavior.

She had already noticed him that morning at Wenxuan Bookstore, where his odd conduct was hard to ignore. After Hsiao Rann finished with the books he wanted, he would haphazardly place them back on the shelves without any attempt to organize them. The complaints of the librarian tasked with tidying up after him reached her ears.

She hadn't expected to run into him again at Xinhua Bookstore that afternoon.

Faced with the pretty girl, Hsiao Rann was taken aback. Pointing to himself, he asked, "Are you talking to me?"

"Who else? No one else here reads by merely flipping through the pages like you do. And you've left such a mess of books." Of course, these were the thoughts running through the girl's mind; she didn't voice them. Instead, she simply nodded at Hsiao Rann.

Embarrassed, Hsiao Rann scratched his head. As a former librarian, he certainly knew how to organize books, yet he hadn't bothered to do so. He couldn't explain why he hadn't.

When a beautiful woman expressed her dissatisfaction with his actions, Hsiao Rann felt too embarrassed to continue. He casually grabbed a thick book and, with a flick of his wrist, it seemed to come alive, sliding perfectly into the gap on the shelf. Then, with both hands, he neatly arranged seven or eight books on classical Chinese literature before giving the shelf a gentle push, lining them up impeccably.

Onlookers, including a librarian with years of experience, were astounded by Hsiao Rann's effortless precision. They all wondered why he had initially tossed the books aside so carelessly.

Hsiao Rann flashed a smile at the girl, signaling that he had tidied up the books, and then he left the bookstore. He was fully prepared and ready for the upcoming examination.

Unbeknownst to Hsiao Rann, the girl was not only from his school but also a high-achieving student in Chinese literature. They were from different departments and had different enrollment years, so they had never crossed paths before that day.

Feeling well-prepared, Hsiao Rann returned home to continue his studies.

Three days later, in the large classroom, Hsiao Rann awaited the arrival of Fong Mann. He was the sole candidate in this public examination and was confident that Fong Mann had meticulously selected the questions for him.

"You're quite early. As this is an exam, there will of course be proctors. For this exam, it will be myself and your classical Chinese literature instructor, Professor Bai. Additionally, two students from the Student Union will be overseeing the exam, so don't even think about cheating," Fong Mann announced.

Four educators were there to supervise Hsiao Rann's examination.

Fong Mann approached the podium and placed the exam papers down. While other instructors might go out of their way to ensure their students graduated with ease, she had no intention of making it easy for those who had crossed her. Her piercing gaze at Hsiao Rann was a clear warning against any dishonesty.

The rest of the students could only offer Hsiao Rann their sympathetic glances. Each of them had at some point offended Fong Mann and endured her harsh treatment, but Hsiao Rann had suffered the worst.

Professor Bai, on the verge of retirement, was a venerable figure whose knowledge was vast and profound. He had always treated his students with the utmost kindness, much like his own grandchildren. Having taught many students over the years, he didn't have a particularly strong recollection of Hsiao Rann until he was invited by Fong Mann to this examination. Little did he know, after today, Hsiao Rann would be etched in his memory forever.

"The exam begins now. You have 100 minutes, which is more than enough time."

Fong Mann began to open the sealed bag. Despite there being just one test paper, it took her nearly five minutes to extract it.

Hsiao Rann was unfazed by Fong Mann's petty tactics. Even if the exam time were cut by fifty minutes, he would remain undaunted, let alone a mere five.

Upon receiving the test, Hsiao Rann noted that it included word selection and fill-in-the-blank questions. A cursory glance revealed the high difficulty level; Fong Mann was clearly trying to trip him up.

At the sight of the first question, Hsiao Rann could tell Fong Mann had crafted a series of challenging questions. A less attentive person might easily choose an incorrect answer, but not Hsiao Rann. He promptly penned the correct response and proceeded with the test.

There were fifty questions in total. The first ten were multiple-choice, followed by fill-in-the-blank items.

Hsiao Rann breezed through the initial ten questions but paused at the eleventh, which featured four blanks. Nonetheless, he wasn't stumped.

He had to acknowledge Fong Mann's cunning with this question. It came without hints, and Fong Mann had cleverly added an extra period and blank at the end of a poem. Hsiao Rann realized it was intentional. He couldn't confront her about it either, as she could easily claim it wasn't a mistake but his oversight. The superfluous period was actually a cue that the subsequent blank should be filled with the poem's line, not a reading direction.

Hsiao Rann was at a loss for words. He thought to himself, "An Arabic numeral, too? Old Spinster, you've outdone yourself."

The earlier questions had already seemed excessively strict to Hsiao Rann, but the final one nearly drove him to the edge—it was the Star Gauge!

He wondered, "Is this Old Spinster out to give me a hard time?"

The authentic Star Gauge featured a variety of colors, yet the one Fong Mann provided was merely black text! Hsiao Rann gazed at the printed Star Gauge and felt a twinge of gratitude. At least Fong Mann had enough of a conscience not to require him to transcribe every single poem from the Star Gauge. The reading method for it wasn't even set in stone. With a computer, one could generate nearly ten thousand poems from it.

But she had no intention of letting Hsiao Rann off the hook during the exam. Her question demanded that he write out the Seven-character Chanting Rule.

Hsiao Rann glanced up at the smug Old Spinster presiding over the classroom and then checked the clock. "I can tackle this," he assured himself.

To Hsiao Rann, the task at hand was more tedious than challenging. He set to work, his pen flying across the paper until he had filled even the back of the exam sheet.

With the test complete and half an hour to spare, Hsiao Rann considered his options. "If I turn it in now, she's bound to nitpick. Better to catch a quick nap and recharge," he reasoned.

So, he laid his head down on the desk and drifted off. Fong Mann, observing this, couldn't help but feel a surge of delight. "Pass this exam, and I might even share a bed with you," she mused internally.

Unaware of Fong Mann's thoughts, Hsiao Rann would have preferred to fail than to entertain the notion of sleeping in the same bed with her.