Chapter 264: Solving the Problem
Even though she had already known the answer the instant she saw the circuits, Xu Zhi did not step forward immediately.
She hadn’t forgotten what the teacher said—academic credit rewards were based on difficulty. The three simplest circuits likely wouldn’t earn many credits. In that case, there was no need to rush. She might as well observe her classmates’ level first.
After all, she had long been curious—what were extraordinary individuals in the real world actually like?
And what level were the students gathered here, in this academy that assembled the most talented of the new generation?
Since the circuits used in the entrance test weren’t much different from those currently displayed on the podium—and the students had already studied for nearly half a semester—Xu Zhi didn’t have to wait long.
About four or five minutes later, someone stood up to attempt an answer.
The courage to answer first implied a degree of confidence. Sure enough, she correctly identified the leftmost circuit as a cleaning-type circuit.
The teacher nodded and invited her to the podium to attempt dismantling it.
After signaling the student to come up, the teacher’s gaze drifted toward Xu Zhi. In her expectation, Xu Zhi should have been the first to step forward.
But the moment she saw Xu Zhi, she understood something.
When Xu Zhi had first entered the classroom, she had been sitting upright—slender posture straight, listening politely, even directing her attention to the projection the instant it appeared.
Now, however, her posture had relaxed—perhaps even too relaxed. Her left hand propped against her cheek, her right hand resting casually at her side. Her gaze no longer lingered on the circuit projection but instead watched the classmate at the podium with mild interest.
She looked idle.
No—not idle.
She looked confident.
The teacher almost instantly concluded that Xu Zhi already knew the answer. The curiosity in her gaze toward her classmates was undisguised. And considering that she was supposedly suffering from amnesia, perhaps she simply wanted to see how others approached the problem.
Was this the composure of a genius… or arrogance?
The teacher withdrew her gaze and hinted subtly, “This class is only two hours. Anyone who wants to try should make the most of the time.”
The remark was clearly directed at Xu Zhi.
No matter how talented she was, even if she solved the easiest circuits quickly, surely her speed would decrease as the difficulty increased.
Lower-year students were always short on academic credits. In the first semester, there were almost no competitions. Aside from placement tests and ranking-based exam credits, there were very few opportunities to earn extra points.
Even Xu Zhi should want more credits, right?
The student on stage was of the Winter attribute. She had been specially recruited because, despite being Winter, she possessed an unusually keen sensitivity to circuits. In analyzing extraordinary circuits alone, she could almost rival an Enlightenment of the same level. While Enlightenment abilities extended beyond circuit dismantling, for a Winter to display such aptitude was remarkable.
Gods’ Heavy Industries had once extended an olive branch to her, but she had chosen the Light Institute instead.
Soon, two Enlightenment students stepped forward to dismantle the remaining two simple circuits.
Xu Zhi did not hurry. She watched with curiosity while sensing other classmates’ gazes repeatedly landing on her.
They were probably wondering why the “first-place” transfer student hadn’t stepped up first.
But no one dared approach her to ask. Aside from the red-haired girl earlier, no one else had been bold enough to sit beside her.
Her patience had returned. As she idly watched the students on stage ponder intensely, she absentmindedly flicked the silver chain of her glasses.
Then she recalled the doctor from Gods’ Heavy Industries warning her that the glasses were fragile. Irritated at her own wandering fingers, she quickly withdrew her hand.
About ten minutes later, the simplest circuits were dismantled one by one.
“Very good. Ten credits each.”
The three students beamed. As they returned to their seats, their gazes subtly swept past Xu Zhi.
The transfer student seemed remarkably unhurried.
Little did they know, Xu Zhi was inwardly congratulating herself on being so perceptive.
As expected—only ten credits!
The next ones had better not be so stingy.
Perhaps her barely concealed “That’s it?” expression was too obvious. The teacher coughed lightly.
“I’ll project the second-tier circuits now. Thirty credits each.”
“The third and fourth tiers—fifty and seventy credits respectively.”
A total of four hundred and fifty credits.
Now that was more like it!
That was nearly as much as the principal had gifted her. This teacher was quite generous.
Seeing the unmistakable satisfaction in Xu Zhi’s eyes, the young teacher inwardly bled.
Classroom rewards came from a fixed allocation. Each semester, teachers had a limited number of credits they could distribute freely. They had to budget carefully—any excess came out of their own pocket.
Even teachers were ruled by credits!
Nearly five hundred credits in a single class—over budget by more than double!
And this was only the first lesson. She was beginning to detect in this transfer student a dangerous “eyes-light-up-at-the-sight-of-credits” personality.
A bad feeling crept in.
But what she hadn’t expected was that the moment she announced the new credit rewards, Xu Zhi stood up.
The teacher blinked. “What is it? Is something unclear?”
It hadn’t even occurred to her that Xu Zhi might be answering. She had just projected the question.
The second-tier circuit was far beyond what first-semester freshmen could solve. Though it had been prepared with Xu Zhi in mind, she hadn’t expected her to solve it quickly.
At the very least, it should take some time.
So she assumed Xu Zhi had a question.
Instead, the gentle-looking new student’s smile seemed to widen slightly, as if she had heard something amusing.
“Teacher,” she said, “I’m standing up to solve the problem.”
The teacher blinked.
“Solve it? Oh—you’ve already figured it out?!”
The classroom fell silent.
When Xu Zhi had ignored the first set of circuits, countless speculations had circulated in everyone’s minds. Some had even suspected her top ranking was pure luck.
But now?
The projection had just appeared—and she already knew?
Impossible.
Most of them hadn’t even fully read the problem yet.
How could someone glance once and already have the answer while others were still deciphering it word by word?
“Three natural circuits,” Xu Zhi said calmly. “Water transformation, combustion, crystallization. Correct?”
“…Correct.”
The young teacher’s composure visibly faltered. Her astonishment was plain.
These were problems meant for second-year students.
She had identified them at a glance?
As long as she solved them with reasonable speed, she would already surpass second-year students in circuit studies.
And she hadn’t even taken advanced classes.
A genius.
Until now, the teacher had felt little concrete impression of the so-called prodigy transfer student.
Now, she felt the impact directly.
But it wasn’t over.
It was only the beginning.
When Xu Zhi stepped onto the stage, the teacher expected her to pause and think. Identifying a projection was one thing; dismantling it was another.
Instead, the transfer student delivered yet another “surprise.”
She stood there briefly.
Five seconds, perhaps?
Maybe less.
Then she extended one finger and lightly tapped the leftmost circuit.
The teacher instinctively wanted to stop her—this looked reckless—
But before she could speak, the circuit glowed faintly.
Crack.
A sharp shattering sound echoed.
The engraved circuit on the material board fractured apart.
What—
The thought had barely formed when Xu Zhi’s finger shifted to the next slab.
Her movements were light, her expression calm, as if she were not dismantling complex problems but examining something simple and amusing.
No way—
The next moment confirmed it.
The second circuit lasted less than three seconds before shattering.
The third followed just as swiftly.
The entire process was so fast that no one in the classroom had time to react.
Even after she finished, some students were still frozen.
The silence earlier had been subtle.
Now it was absolute.
Xu Zhi’s utterly unreasonable display made most of the class unconsciously hold their breath. It felt surreal—like watching a science fiction film.
How could a classmate in real life perform feats that belonged only in movies?
No—even films made for ordinary audiences wouldn’t dare depict something like this.
Yet the transfer student who had committed this “heaven-defying” act seemed unaware of how terrifying it was.
She turned around calmly, the silver chain of her glasses swaying lightly. Her tone was utterly natural, as though nothing extraordinary had happened.
“Teacher, let’s move on to the next problem.”
At that moment, the teacher had only one thought left.
Student.
You didn’t come up here to solve problems.
You came up here to show off, didn’t you?
