This humble Taoist priest wants to take the college entrance exam.

Chapter 10: Let's get to the bottom of things first (Thanks to the patron, Ai Xiaoxun)
As noon approached, the excitement of freshmen registering for class gradually subsided, and the senior students in grades 11 and 12 put down their pens and flocked to the cafeteria.

Only Chen Shi'an's transfer registration process is still ongoing.

The young Taoist priest was sitting alone in an empty conference room in the administration building, with six test papers to be completed beside him, covering six subjects: Chinese, mathematics, English, physics, chemistry, and biology.

Besides the exam paper, there was a bottle of mineral water and a boxed lunch on the table—the lunch was very lavish, specially packed for him by Principal Lin from the teachers' canteen.

"How is it, Fatty Mo? Is the food alright?"

"Meow."

"You usually ignore me when I call you Fatty Mo, but you'll respond when there's food, right?"

"..."

Chen Shi'an picked up the lunchbox lid and gave a portion to the black cat. Neither he nor the cat were picky eaters, and the variety of food in this canteen was obviously much richer than the meals on the mountain.

The two of them, a person and a cat, ate their boxed lunches and enjoyed the air conditioning, quite content.

Chen Shi'an was a meticulous person. He didn't rush to start writing the questions, afraid of getting the test paper dirty while eating. Only after finishing his meal and cleaning up the table and lunchbox with a tissue did he begin to ponder the test paper in front of him.

The black cat glanced around, then felt dizzy. Since it wasn't the one who needed to study, it simply lay down on the conference table and fell into a deep sleep after eating and drinking its fill.

Facing the six exam papers in his hand, Chen Shi'an was not much better off than Mao'er, and his expression changed from relaxed to serious.

This was the first time he had ever seen an exam paper.

This 'exam' was a bit special. The exam room was a conference room, and the candidate was the only one. There were no examiners, no surveillance cameras, and his cell phone was not confiscated.

In Mr. Liang's words, if he can find the answer through his phone or by flipping through a book, then his basic knowledge is not bad.

The purpose of the diagnostic test is to assess his level. Not only does Teacher Liang want to know his baseline, but Chen Shi'an himself also wants to know how many points he can get on these tests.

The first thing Chen Shi'an unfolded was the Chinese language test paper.

The curriculum includes two modern Chinese reading passages, one classical Chinese reading passage, ancient poetry reading, memorization of famous passages and sentences, language and writing practice, and finally, writing.

I thought Chinese would be my best subject, but I didn't expect to get stuck right at the beginning.

An article about artificial intelligence is full of unfamiliar terms like 'algorithm' and 'neural network'.

Chen Shi'an stared blankly at the question of whether machines could possess consciousness. After pondering for a long time, he wrote in the blank space: [Form is the dwelling place of life; Qi is the filling of life; Shen is the control of life. Without Qi and Shen, how can a machine possess consciousness?]
Fortunately, after reading modern Chinese texts, he excelled at reading classical Chinese texts, ancient poetry, and memorizing famous passages and lines.

The classical Chinese reading comprehension test was on "The Biographies of Laozi, Zhuangzi, Shen Buhai, and Han Fei" from the Records of the Grand Historian, which Chen Shi'an read even more fluently than the classic texts.

He not only wrote a commentary on the word "natural" in the phrase "the way follows nature" in the question, but also added the phrase "[Heaven and earth possess great beauty but do not speak of it]" next to it, feeling that the question setter had asked too superficially.

Needless to say, the questions on memorizing famous passages and quotes were quite challenging. Although some questions were presented in the form of scenario applications, he was able to use these famous quotes with ease, having been familiar with classic texts such as the Four Books and Five Classics since childhood.

The final essay topic was "On Innovation and Inheritance".

Upon seeing the topic, Chen Shi'an was deeply moved. He wrote a lengthy piece, from Zhuangzi's "adapting to the times" to Ge Hong's "transmitting but not creating," covering half a page. When he looked up and saw the requirement of no less than 800 words, he added a passage from the Taiping Jing. The entire piece was written without a single punctuation mark, separated only by pauses, making it a veritable work of classical Chinese writing.

It must be said that although the Chinese test paper was not easy to do, it was generally quite smooth, which gave the little Taoist a lot of confidence. A faint sense of "it's nothing special" began to emerge in his heart.

However, this complacency did not last long.

When Chen Shi'an turned to the math test paper, his brows furrowed.

The page was filled with a large number of unfamiliar terms and strangely shaped symbols. The formulas printed with x, y, f(x), ∩, ∠, sin, cos... were like unfamiliar spells. He recognized the geometric solid as a 'square box', but what was 'the angle between skew lines'?!
For a moment, Chen Shi'an wondered if he was doing a foreign language exam instead of math.

When ordinary people like us buy groceries, shop, do business, and calculate accounts, do we really need these tools? Perhaps we can use copper coins to cast a divination and find the answer that seems most likely among the four options, but after all, it's just a preliminary test. If we don't know the answer, we don't know it. Moreover, the points for multiple-choice questions are limited, so even if we guess a few correctly, it's still a drop in the ocean.

It can be said that this question was far beyond the young Taoist's understanding of mathematics. He racked his brains but could only recall the "find a circle within a square, and a square within a circle" that his master had taught him.

In the end, they simply drew circles after all the questions, varying in size, like the lines in a hexagram...

The math problem was quickly 'finished'.

Chen Shi'an then unfolded the English test paper.

But after a short while, he quietly put the English test paper aside.

Finally, there was the science exam paper.

He searched through his memory of the "Kaogongji" (a classic Chinese text on engineering) but couldn't find any corresponding explanations for terms like "acceleration," "kinetic energy," and "electromagnetism" in the physics exam.
The various element symbols and reaction formulas in the chemistry paper are like mineral charts used in alchemy. He knows how to make alchemy, but what the hell are these chemical experiments?

The cell structure diagram in the biology volume was even more outrageous. Chen Shi'an looked at it with some doubt. Were these 'cells' really the things that made up his body? And how did consciousness arise from this pile of components? As he thought about it, the little Taoist realized that his Taoist heart was somewhat disordered. He quickly calmed his mind and wrote only the sentence, "All things have essence, and where essence exists, life exists."

Looking at the disorganized math, English, and science exam papers, Chen Shi'an was somewhat bewildered...

"Master, when you said 'the way of nature,' do you mean I should naturally fail the exam?"

"Did you come down the mountain to see the world just so I could see these conic sections?"

Having been out of school for many years and lacking knowledge of the relevant subjects, Chen Shi'an had guessed that he wouldn't do very well on the exam, but he never expected it to be this bad.

From a young age, he was smarter than others, learned everything quickly, and could do his best in everything he did. Those successes built up an almost arrogant self-confidence deep in his heart, making him think that everyone else was just a slow-witted fish.

This diagnostic test completely shattered his self-confidence and indirectly changed his view of his peers—he learned from Teacher Liang that the class monitor of Class 5 was able to get a perfect score on the math test that he had absolutely no clue about.

Learning should have been his forte, but he ended up with such a poor exam result.

For the first time, Chen Shi'an became acutely aware of his own arrogance.

No wonder his master wanted him to go down the mountain and re-enroll in school.

Humans always live within a series of reference points. If one only stays on the mountain, the only reference point is oneself, and over time one will inevitably lose oneself.

[Knowing how high the sky is, how deep the earth is, having a clear mind that understands one's own place, and comprehending all living beings around one—that is true enlightenment.]
[Master, which floor am I on?]
You don't even know how high the sky is or how deep the earth is, let alone claim that your mind is like a clear mirror, knowing where you stand.
I know it perfectly well!
[Heh, arrogant. You really aren't going to school tomorrow?]
[I'm not going. It's too easy, not interesting.]
[......]
The promised trials of the mortal world finally gave Chen Shi'an a sense of accomplishment at this moment.

In the past, his understanding of the phrase "[the mind is like a clear mirror, knowing one's own place]" was that it was probably a fixed position.

Only now do I realize that what we call "our own place" is actually changing.

Just as if someone who has mastered Taoist arts were thrown into a school and failed miserably, perhaps if the top student in a school were sent to the mountains to learn Taoist arts, he might not even get the hang of it for ten or five years.

Different reference points lead to different positions, creating a dynamic and complex situation.

One who determines his position solely by his own strengths may seem superior, but in reality, he is rootless and adrift. A person who relies on self-confidence will one day collapse due to the destruction of that self-confidence.

After understanding this principle, Chen Shi'an's turbulent heart returned to calm, even calmer than ever before.

That moment felt strange, like being elevated from a high vantage point, allowing him to examine his surroundings from a different perspective.

Master, your disciple is indeed a genius in cultivation... No, I must be humble, humble! I don't even know seven-tenths of the Great Dao yet!
Despite failing the exam, the young man's resolve in the Dao became even stronger.

Arrogance, indeed, is the original sin!
(Thank you so much to Ai Xiaoxun for being the patron! What a generous boss! Thank you so much for supporting my new book!)

(End of this chapter)