Chapter 101

Over the next few days, Class i, now fully immersed in the teaching phase, was advancing at a breakneck pace.

It was like...a patient paralyzed for ten years suddenly competing in the World Athletics Championships—simply insane.

Not only was the pace blisteringly quick, what infuriated Ji Ruochu most was that these little beans who'd been babbling nonsense just days ago now seemed to be adapting remarkably well.

Take Chinese class, for example. The kids already knew a lot of characters, so they'd skipped learning new words and gone straight into sentence components.

After learning about inverted sentences, negatives, double negatives, interrogatives, and rhetorical questions, the children's communication had become rather bizarre.

"That was so yummy, today's lunch!"

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"Today's lunch was nothing short of delicious."

"I'm doing this problem incorrectly, am I not?" "You're doing the problem precisely right."

"May we hold hands, you and I?"

A pained Ji Ruochu: ...There's no need for that.

Or take math class. After addition and subtraction in the morning and memorizing multiplication tables in the afternoon, they'd already covered multiplication and division.

So Class i's lessons soon marched on to converting units, and the kids' language games grew even more advanced.

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"What time is it now?"

"Seven minutes twenty-five seconds until it's ten o'clock!"

"So that means there are only two minutes twenty-five seconds until class starts?"

"Ah! Only one hundred forty-five seconds left!"

"Time flies so fast when class ends, I feel."

"Who isn't saying that?"

Ji Ruochu: ...You all exemplify learning for practical application.

In contrast, the other minority-language students seemed rather unsophisticated. The kids just inserted a couple words here and there in their sentences, and you could occasionally catch two little beans arguing in English.

Later, even French, Arabic, Italian... Ji Ruochu's head was buzzing listening to it all.

You think they just study liberal arts?

No way.

Horseback riding, calligraphy, Go, vocal music... Every classroom she'd had the fortune to visit, they'd already covered thoroughly in a short time.

A perfectly normal preschool, yet it gave her the surreal feeling of opening surprise boxes every day in class.

Poor Ji Ruochu--as she endured the meteoric teaching pace each day, she also suffered the torment of little beans applying their knowledge.

This caused her to enter a ten-minute period of repeated self-affirmation every night before bed:

This is the underachiever class, right?

It shouldn't be, should it?

Or could it be... Even the underachievers admitted to this school are at this level?

Damn, my sense of crisis is stronger than ever!

The agony during the day and self-doubt at night left her in a daze for several days on end.

And so this class leader of Class i, who had performed extremely well both during the initial selection and the one-month observation period after enrollment, stood out even more.

Specifically, when the other kids' faces burned with curiosity as they listened intently to the teacher--

This child spaced out on average every five minutes. Later on, the teaching assistant didn't take her eyes off the girl.

But you can't say she wasn't listening carefully... She grasped everything the teacher taught and could apply it flexibly.

Not only in liberal arts classes--in strength, music, expressiveness, and other areas, this child stood alone.

Organized, modest, excelling in moral, intellectual, physical, aesthetic, and labor education simultaneously, she gave off an air of sober aloofness amidst drunken revelry.

How to describe that feeling... Like a gifted child who stubbornly refused to apply herself.

What was most jarring was that this rebellious child was also extremely well behaved.

So all the teachers and Ji Ruochu fell into self-doubt.

Why doesn't this child listen carefully in class?

Is my teaching no good? Why doesn't she listen yet grasps everything?

Does she feel I'm too slow so she's multitasking and absorbing it all after one pass?

Or...should I speed up the pace?

When this issue was raised at a faculty meeting of Class i teachers, it received unanimous approval.

Finally, after Class i's teachers observed the kids keeping up with the current pace steadily for a week, they decided to "slightly" accelerate.

And so one day in math class, Class i encountered something generally not taught until fourth grade elementary...solving equations.

Ji Ruochu: ...I'm done for.

Hold on, just four operations with mixed numbers yesterday, and today suddenly solving equations?

Does that mean applying equations to word problems tomorrow?

Even the underachiever class can learn so recklessly?

What she didn't know was that upon seeing her dumbfounded expression, the teacher at the podium felt an indescribable sense of accomplishment.

Finally stopped spacing out, huh?

Finally finding it hard to follow, huh?

Now you've got an intense thirst for knowledge, right, Ji Ruochu?

But the next second...

!!!

How is this kid spacing out again?

She picked it up already?

No way, so quickly?

Impossible! Absolutely impossible!

Maybe she doesn't understand...

"Ruochu, please come up and try this problem."

With self-reassurance, the math teacher issued a challenge to the spaced-out little sweetheart.

One minute later.

"..."

Looking at the neat, completely correct answer, the math teacher's mind went blank.

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