My IQ has been increasing year by year.

2:30 p.m.

Physics exam room.

If the math exam room in the morning is an icebox, then the physics exam room in the afternoon is a steamer.

Although the classroom had air conditioning, the drowsy feeling that was unique to the afternoon was physiological.

The proctor was sitting on the podium, and he was even starting to yawn.

Chen Zhuo entered the examination room.

This exam room is different from the one in the morning.

He was in the fourth row, by the window.

He glanced to his right front.

The second row, the seats by the aisle.

The short-haired girl was sitting there.

The team leader of the provincial experimental team.

She also participated in physics competitions.

It is also a form of dual cultivation.

This time, she didn't sleep.

She rested her chin on one hand and twirled a pen in the other.

The pen spun rapidly between my fingertips.

She was lost in thought.

He stared blankly at the projection screen above the blackboard, which hadn't been pulled up yet.

Seemingly sensing something, she turned her head and glanced back.

Their eyes met.

She didn't react much, just slowed down the speed of her pen spinning a little, then turned her head away and continued to stare blankly.

It was as if Chen Zhuo was just a wisp of air, or a table.

The bell rang.

Curly hair.

The most distinctive feature of physics competition papers is one thing.

There are many words.

The text is densely packed with complex circuit diagrams and mechanical structure diagrams.

If you didn't see the title, you might even think this is a few reading comprehension passages from a Chinese language textbook.

Chen Zhuo glanced at the exam paper.

The first major question.

Analysis of the working principle of old-fashioned hand-operated water pumps in rural areas.

Piston, valve, atmospheric pressure.

A very relatable topic.

However, if you haven't seen the actual product and are just relying on your imagination, it's easy to get the valve opening and closing sequence wrong.

He didn't rush to put pen to paper.

Turn to the back.

The final, most challenging question.

The question took up half a page.

The title is:

The Principle and Repair of a Certain Type of Automatic Temperature Control Rice Cooker

The diagram shows a complex circuit and an enlarged view of a core component.

Magnetic steel temperature limiter.

The question requires analysis of the magnetic changes of the magnet when the temperature reaches the Curie point (103°C), and how it cuts off the power supply.

The spring constant also needs to be calculated.

When Chen Zhuo saw this question, he couldn't help but smile slightly.

This is hardly a competition question.

This is clearly a repair manual.

Before he transmigrated into this world in his previous life, the old-fashioned rice cooker in his family broke down, and he fixed it himself.

He could draw the structure inside with his eyes closed.

Which is the soft magnet, which is the hard magnet, which is the push rod, and which is the spring?

For him, this wasn't a physical model, but common sense.

A chorus of scratching heads echoed through the examination room.

His face looked as if he were wearing a mask of pain.

Who in their right mind would be so bored at this age to be researching and messing with rice cookers?

You really feel like your childhood wasn't complete enough, right?

Chen Zhuo picked up his pen.

There is absolutely no need for any force analysis.

This is a temperature control switch.

Temperature rises → ferrite magnetism weakens → Curie point is reached → magnetism disappears → spring springs back → power is cut off.

The logical chain is clear and simple, just like 1+1=2.

He began to write.

The pen tip glides swiftly across the paper.

No scratch paper or complicated calculations are needed.

Write out the principles, the process, and the conclusion directly.

The smoothness was completely different from the feeling I had when I was doing brute-force deductions for geometry problems this morning.

A kind of exhilarating feeling, like being defeated by a lower dimension.

I'm halfway through writing this.

He subconsciously looked up and glanced ahead.

The short-haired girl was also writing.

She was sitting in a crooked position, with half of her body slumped over the table.

But her pen never stopped.

She would write a few lines, pause, twirl the pen a couple of times, and then continue writing.

It didn't feel like solving a difficult problem; it felt more like writing in a diary or playing a crossword puzzle.

The entire examination room.

Most people were scratching their heads in frustration, and some were even measuring the distances on the map with a ruler.

There were only the two of them.

One in front of the other.

The pen tip made a scratching sound.

They played a piece that only they could understand.

Of course, this probably wouldn't sound good to the other students in the same exam room.

......

Five o'clock in the afternoon.

The bell rang to signal the end.

It was like the doctor announcing the end of the surgery.

Regardless of whether the surgery was successful or not, the incision was stopped.

Chen Zhuo put down his pen.

He glanced at the exam paper.

It's full of writing.

The handwriting is neat and the logic is clear.

Collect the papers.

The short-haired girl stood up.

She stretched out a big yawn, her arms outstretched, and let out a long yawn.

Then, grabbing his pencil case, he strolled out before the proctor even said he could leave.

The proctor glared at her, but after glancing at her exam paper, he said nothing more.

Chen Zhu packed his things and left the examination room.

The setting sun painted the square in front of the teaching building a pale golden hue.

There was no cheering.

A hundred or so examinees poured out of the classrooms, forming a silent torrent.

Most of them had their heads down, like prisoners who had just been defeated and had their weapons taken away.

Occasionally, two people would exchange a glance, offering a wry smile, or simply turn their heads away, not wanting others to see their reddened eyes.

downstairs.

From a distance, Chen Zhuo could see Lao Zhao and Lao Zhou.

Old Zhao was carrying a large plastic bag filled with unopened bottled water.

He kept tiptoeing to look inside, his forehead covered in sweat, and his shirt collar was soaked.

Old Zhou, on the other hand, paced back and forth with his hands behind his back.

He had a cigarette between his fingers, unlit and crumpled from being squeezed.

Li Hao and Zhang Wei were the first to come out.

These two physics group members, who are both in the same boat, are moving incredibly slowly.

Li Hao, carrying his schoolbag, looked like he had shrunk in size, and his steps were unsteady. Zhang Wei was in even worse shape, his eyes red-rimmed, and he kept sniffling.

Seeing this, Lao Zhou's heart skipped a beat.

cold.

Old Zhou took two steps forward, his lips moved, and the words "How did the exam go?" were on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them back down.

Asking this question at this point is like rubbing salt into a wound.

"It's good that you're out, it's good that you're out."

Old Zhou patted Li Hao on the shoulder, speaking very softly, afraid that a loud voice would make the child cry.

"Have a drink of water."

He unscrewed a bottle of water and handed it to him.

Li Hao took the water, his hand trembled, and some water spilled out.

"Teacher Zhou..."

Li Hao's voice was choked with sobs; the grievances he had been holding back all afternoon finally broke down.

"That rice cooker...that magnetic switch..."

"I'm not going to say anything more."

Old Zhou quickly interrupted him and even helped him straighten his crooked school uniform collar.

"I won't talk about it now that the exam is over. I also looked at those questions; they were beyond the syllabus for competitions, they're for geniuses, not for us."

"It's alright, oh, it's alright."

At this moment, the group of math group members who had survived the morning session also gathered around.

These people had been suffering outside all afternoon, and seeing the miserable state of the physics group, their last bit of hope was completely extinguished.

I was hoping the physics team could turn things around, but now it looks like they've all been wiped out.

Chen Zhuo was the last one to wander out.

He looked at his teammates, who seemed to be attending a memorial service, and then at Old Zhao, who looked extremely cautious.

Looking at Chen Zhuo's calm face, Old Zhao wanted to read something from it, but dared not ask.

That look in their eyes was so humble it was heartbreaking.

Chen Zhuo sighed.

He walked over and took a bottle of water from Old Zhao's hand.

"I'm gone."

Chen Zhuo unscrewed the cap and took a sip.

I'm hungry.

Old Zhao paused for a moment, then quickly nodded, like an obedient old friend.

"Let's go, let's go eat, let's go eat."

"There's a dumpling restaurant up ahead, let's go get something hot."