I was a top student in America.

"This student really thinks the examiner is stupid. They just scribble something down because they don't know how. Look at this sequence problem's characteristic equation—it's completely nonsensical! Are they trying to get points for this?"

"Instead of wasting time making things up, why not go back and check the previous steps? You even got the last step of this problem wrong—a simple three-digit multiplication."

"However, given the difficulty level this year, achieving this is quite good. Overall, this year's students are at a higher level than last year's cohort."

Inside the marking room, several teachers were sitting around a long table, heads bowed, grading the competition papers.

If I encounter an answer that's truly unbearable to look at, or one that occasionally surprises me, I'll mutter a few words to the person next to me, but most of the time it's just complaining.

Miss Miller comes from the University of Chicago Laboratory School and this is only her second year teaching math.

As the youngest and least experienced examiner at the table, she mostly listened without speaking, occasionally raising her head to chime in with just a few words.

Miller opened a new test paper and, as usual, checked the answers against the paper.

I traced the multiple-choice and fill-in-the-blank questions with a red pen, and surprisingly, I didn't encounter a single place where I should lose points.

She had a general idea in her mind; these were probably top students from some well-established and prestigious school in the vicinity.

When Miller turned to the section with the most challenging questions, a plane geometry problem that took up most of the page immediately caught his eye.

"It's written so neatly."

She muttered something under her breath, raising an eyebrow slightly.

After grading papers for half a day, this was the first time she had ever encountered such an organized and well-formatted paper.

Upon closer inspection of the solution process, it became clear that the student had actually used two different methods.

The standard auxiliary lines are neatly and logically arranged in the left column, with a tight and coherent logic;

The right column takes a different approach, directly substituting the coordinates of the triangle vertices and deriving the result using analytical geometry.

Not only is the handwriting neat, but the steps are also meticulous.

Miller checked the two solutions side-by-side, and the conclusions and answers on both sides were completely consistent.

Her gaze swept to the bottom and she noticed that the child had added a few extra lines of text.

He actually deduced a small conclusion on his own, and managed to simplify the original problem by combining the complicated two-step algebraic equation into one step.

Miller couldn't help but glance at it again, finding it increasingly pleasing to the eye.

She flipped back to the homepage, checked the objective questions again, and already had the answers in her mind.

This is an extremely rare perfect score paper.

She unconsciously sat up straight and turned to her colleague across the table to confirm, "It seems like I got a perfect score on this test, can you take a look?"

As soon as he finished speaking, several people around him put down their pens and crowded around.

The crowd gathered around the exam paper, examining it closely for a moment, before a series of surprised whispers arose:

"Oh ho, this kid wasn't satisfied after finishing, so he double-checked it using a new method?"

"Which school is this from? The paper is so neat, and the problem-solving approach is very clear."

"I can't find any fault with it; giving it full marks is perfectly reasonable."

Hearing his colleagues' comments, Miller's last concerns were completely dispelled.

She gathered the test paper closer to her and smiled, agreeing, "I was lucky today to stumble upon a perfect score. I wonder which school this top student is from."

Unfortunately, the seal at the beginning of the exam paper was completely sealed, and apart from the two bare lines of exam number and seat number, the candidate's information was completely covered up.

"We'll have to wait for the organizing committee to do the final dismantling and summary."

A veteran teacher waved his hand and sat back down in front of his mountain of test papers.

Miller felt a little disappointed that he hadn't solved the mystery.

She glanced at it one last time with lingering reluctance, then picked up a red pen and marked full marks at the top of the page according to the ICTM scoring criteria.

The test paper was closed and placed neatly on top of the stack of graded papers.

As the next paper was turned to the next exam paper, the grading room fell silent again, with only the soft scratching of pens on paper.

……

On Monday morning, Li Ao arrived at school early as usual to do practice problems.

With Christmas approaching, the hallways of Wyndham High School were much noisier than usual.

The students gathered in small groups, excitedly discussing which shopping mall was having a big sale, whose house to go to for a meal during the holidays, or planning to put together a community rugby league.

Li Ao had no interest in discussing these things with them. He did a few practice problems at his seat, and when he saw that it was almost time, he walked through the noisy crowd and headed straight for the math group office.

Mr. Brown had just arrived. When he saw Li Ao push the door open and come in, he turned around and rummaged through his briefcase for a while, pulling out a stack of bound lecture notes and a thick book, which he handed over together.

"The AP Calculus materials you requested, I searched all over my house and only found these two books."

On top is a condensed version of the AP Calculus lecture notes, and underneath is the original first-year college edition of Calculus.

The dark blue cover had long been worn dark, and the margins were covered with handwritten annotations in blue and black.

"Wyndham doesn't offer AP courses, and I couldn't find the textbooks in the teaching materials room. I searched around at home for ages before finally finding these two old books that I had kept from when I was self-studying back then."

Brown brushed the dust off the cover. "Just make do with it."

As he spoke, he pushed his office chair back, his brow furrowing slightly: "But the AMC competition is only a little over a month away. Are you going to get distracted by studying college calculus now? The question types and approaches for those two are completely different. Don't let one cause you to lose sight of the other."

Li Ao reached out and took the heavy stack of documents, casually flipping through a couple of pages: "It's nothing, Professor Brown. I'm just taking a break to relax my mind."

That wasn't entirely a perfunctory remark.

In order to stimulate the continuous increase of the [Intelligence] attribute on the panel, he must constantly learn new knowledge.

The original AP textbooks are quite expensive, and they can't be borrowed from the dilapidated public library on 61st Street, which is why he emailed Brown last week for help.

Although it's an old item from decades ago, the basic knowledge of calculus never goes out of style, making it perfect "nourishment" for boosting attributes.

But his casual remark left Brown speechless.

"Studying calculus... to relax your mind?"

Brown's lips twitched as he stared at the student in front of him as if he were a freak.

This kid pretended to be dead in class for the first two years of high school, but recently he's been making rapid progress as if he's on some kind of smart drug, which is really baffling.

After pondering for a while, Brown simply gave up on delving into his unique way of relaxing and changed the subject:

"By the way, how did you do on the statewide math competition last Saturday?"

"It's alright."

Li Ao's gaze was still fixed on the thick textbook in his hand, and he casually replied.

Bullshit, that damn "not bad" again.

Brown's eyelids twitched. He remembered the last time he came back from Green's workshop, the kid had also said "not bad" but ended up handing in his paper early and getting a perfect score.

This is a statewide competition, we can't just aim for a perfect score again, can we?

He quickly shook his head, banishing the absurd thought from his mind.

How could one possibly get a perfect score in such a high-difficulty competition as ICTM?

If you can answer 80% or 90% correctly and get into the top 50 in the state, that would be considered incredibly lucky, and you'd be able to give a good report to Mrs. Paterson.

Just then, Mrs. Paterson pushed open the door and entered.

She walked in, her high heels clicking as her sharp gaze, behind her reading glasses, swept over Li Ao and instantly locked onto the large book he was tucked under his arm.

"AP Calculus?" She frowned slightly. "Leo, didn't you promise me that you would focus all your efforts on the AMC during this time to bring honor to the school? Time is of the essence, you can't afford to be distracted now."

It's no wonder Mrs. Paterson was so anxious. The school had already spent several hundred dollars on this unexpected math prodigy, and she had signed every single approval slip.

If she does terribly on the exam, she won't look good either.

Upon hearing this, Li Ao immediately complied, put the documents away, and looked up at Mrs. Paterson:

"You're right, I will definitely manage my time well. I took the ICTM exam last Saturday, and it went well. From now on, I will focus all my energy on the AMC."

Seeing his sincere attitude, Mrs. Paterson's tense expression eased slightly.

Just then, the preparatory bell rang in the corridor, so Li Ao took the opportunity to say goodbye to the two of them, picked up his bag, and walked out of the office.

……

Before you know it, it's the weekend.

At 7 p.m., the office of academic competitions at Whitney High School, north of Chicago, was still brightly lit.

Green was staring blankly at the ICTM results summary sheet that had just been faxed over, tapping his pen impatiently on the table, his brow furrowed in a frown.

Just then, Hoffman, the physics competition coach, walked in and, seeing his colleague's tense expression, jokingly remarked:

"What happened? Did the students falter in the statewide competition this time?"

As he spoke, he strolled to the table, glanced at the fax paper, and his tone suddenly changed:

"Wait a minute, that's pretty good. Ryan got 289 out of 320. That's a sure thing for him to be in the top 30 in the state in the individual competition, right?"

Green sighed and wearily rubbed his temples.

"What's the use of him getting a high score alone? The team competition is based on the sum of the scores of the top ten teams. This time, Jimmy and Sam both underperformed, so their total score definitely can't beat those established powerhouse schools."

The first thing he did after receiving his report card was to calculate his school's overall group score.

I was only happy for Ruian's outstanding performance for a couple of seconds when I looked down and was so angry at the poor scores of the other students that I almost had a high blood pressure attack.

"Didn't they say this year's exam was harder than previous years? Maybe other schools' scores are lower too. Let me check."

Hoffman patted Green on the shoulder, then casually pulled over the report card and scrolled down the list line by line.

"Well, Stevenson High School is as stable as ever...tsk tsk, Linkin Park High School is also keeping a close eye on them..."

He muttered to himself as he read, then suddenly the words caught in his throat, his eyes widening in shock. "Holy crap, what kind of place is Wyndham High School? How come they only sent one person, and he got... a perfect score?!"

"where?"

Green thought he had misheard and snatched the report card back.

When his gaze fell on the name "Leo Lee" and the prominent perfect score, he sprang up from his chair as if he had been electrocuted.

As Green rushed out the door, he frantically pulled out his phone.

"Help me calculate where our school ranks in terms of total score! I need to make a call right away..."

……