Chapter 15: The Eve of the Monthly Exam

Time, like fine sand in one’s hand, slipped away quietly without notice. In the blink of an eye, more than half a month had passed, and the monthly exam was drawing closer and closer.

Over the past half month, Lin Yumo’s study plan had been progressing in an orderly fashion.

For liberal arts subjects, the changes brought by her golden finger during this period had significantly boosted her memory. Memorizing knowledge had become easy for her.

Since the start of term, she had been attentive in class, following her teachers’ explanations and thought processes closely.

Every night during self-study, she would set aside thirty minutes specifically to review what she had learned that day.

Outside of necessary breaks between classes, she was almost always immersed in her studies.

If she encountered questions she didn’t understand, she would carefully mark them and ask the teacher about them the next day.

If the teacher was too busy, or if the problem was a minor knowledge point she hadn’t grasped, she would turn to the class monitor, Ling Xuanyan, or the study committee member, Wang Changyu.

Over time, she had gradually grown familiar with Ling Xuanyan and Wang Changyu, and along with Song Xingran, the four of them often gathered together to discuss study problems, sharing insights and methods.

However, studying physics and chemistry proved more challenging for her.

Science subjects required more than just a good memory—they demanded strong logical thinking.

Her improved memory wasn’t as effective here, though it wasn’t entirely useless either.

As a result, Lin Yumo had to devote more energy to these subjects than to the others.

Every Saturday and Sunday, she spent most of her time on logic-heavy subjects.

After finishing practice questions, she would carefully review her mistakes, analyze the reasons, and reflect on them.

As for politics, history, biology, and geography—subjects with higher demands on memory—she spent much less time.

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The day before the monthly exam, during the break after the final class.

Lin Yumo’s head felt slightly dizzy as her eyes lingered on a chemical equation in the test paper.

Her pen hovered over the blank space for “Substance B reacts with Solution C.”

The test mentioned a “light blue flocculent precipitate,” the chemical reaction between the two substances, and the product formed.

Her brows knit slightly, and a faint headache began to pulse in her temples.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down, and started working backward from the final product and the color change, reasoning it out step by step.

Time ticked by. Gradually, her thoughts began to clear.

She didn’t rush to write; instead, she ran through the reasoning twice more before the answer clicked. Then she quickly filled in the correct response.

Once she solved this sub-question, the smaller parts of the larger problem seemed to fall like dominoes—one after another becoming easy to answer.

Just as she was about to start writing, the girl beside her, Song Xingran, suddenly began rubbing her head in frustration, mussing up her once smooth hair.

As she rubbed, she muttered with a frown,
“This is too hard, way too hard. Was this math problem written by a human? It’s obviously designed to torture people!”

Her tone was full of helplessness and distress.

Lin Yumo put down her chemistry pen and glanced at the question she was working on.
“Just leave it blank for now,” she said.

Taking the pencil from her hand, she drew dashed lines for the coordinate axes on a piece of scratch paper.
“After lunch, I’ll show you with Geometer’s Sketchpad—it’s more intuitive than forcing it in your head.”

Hearing this, Song Xingran looked as if she had found her savior. She let go of her hair and clung to Lin Yumo’s arm like a kitten, saying in a playful tone,

“Little Jasmine, you’re the best. Without you, I’d be doomed.”

Soon, the final period passed, with some students tense and others relaxed.

As Lin Yumo tidied up her desk, she happened to notice an envelope tucked inside—a love letter.

She calmly slipped it into her bag, her movements natural and unhurried.

Noticing this, Song Xingran’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. She leaned closer and asked,
“Little Jasmine, you get love letters every day. How do you deal with them? Is there anyone you actually like?”

Lin Yumo smiled faintly, her gaze gentle yet firm.
“I have a big box at home. I put all the letters inside. They’re someone’s heartfelt feelings—I don’t want to carelessly throw away someone’s sincerity.

“Think about it—if I wrote a love letter and someone tossed it away in front of me, even if no one knew it was mine, I’d still feel hurt and lose confidence.”

Sunlight danced on her eyelashes, making the amber flecks in her pupils shimmer.
“So I just think of it as keeping their youth for them.”

Suddenly, Song Xingran leaned in so close that her nose nearly touched Lin Yumo’s cheek.
“What if it’s my love letter?” she asked, blinking, her eyelashes brushing against Lin Yumo’s flushed earlobe.

With a smile, Lin Yumo gently tapped her, joking,
“Then you’d have to tell me which one it is. I’ll take it out and put it by my bed, so I can look at it every day—and think of you every day.”

Hearing this, Song Xingran’s eyes curved into slits with joy.
“Little Jasmine, you’re too good at sweet-talking. You’re going to make me float away.”

Linking arms, they headed toward the cafeteria together. The corners of Lin Yumo’s lips carried a fond smile as she said softly,
“I only sweet-talk you.”

Stars seemed to glitter in Song Xingran’s eyes as she exclaimed dramatically,
“Little Jasmine, stop! You’re going to melt my placenta with your charm!”

They both burst into laughter, the sound like silver bells ringing through the school grounds.