“Yes, the competitions over the years have focused on these two aspects. Even in the imperial exams, poetry and scripture transcription are highly valued by the court, while arithmetic has also gained increasing importance. However, arithmetic has always been the most troublesome subject for our academy.”

“Oh? Is that so? When it comes to arithmetic, perhaps Jian Xiu can be of some help!”

When it came to poetry, she knew she had no place in the conversation.

But arithmetic? As someone who held dual PhDs in the post-apocalyptic world, she had never feared it.

She could easily solve the complex equations of the apocalypse—how could she possibly struggle with this ancient world’s simple arithmetic?

“What? What did you just say?” Mo Shanhua asked in disbelief.

“Dean Mo, no need to rush. Let’s discuss this after they finish their exam, shall we?” Jian Xiu replied calmly.

As she spoke, her eyes never left the landscape painting before her.

At the bottom of the painting was a poem, and from the handwriting alone, she could tell that it was composed by Mo Shanhua himself.

After all, the calligraphy style was identical to the “Study of Literature” inscription on the screen.

Hearing Jian Xiu’s words, Mo Shanhua immediately grew excited.

But he quickly suppressed his emotions.

From the moment he first met her, he had noticed that her demeanor and speech bore none of the characteristics of a simple village woman.

Of course, it wasn’t just the fact that she was literate. It was the way she spoke so naturally, without hesitation.

Clearly, she was not ignorant like most rural women.

On the contrary, she was insightful and had a deep understanding of things.

Even as an experienced scholar, he himself had never said something as profound as “Every profession produces its own masters.” Yet, she had spoken it effortlessly.

And he had to admit, her words made perfect sense.

“Grandfather, I want to eat this too!”

As they conversed, Mo Shanhua’s grandson, Mo Ziran, pointed at the cake on the table, interrupting his thoughts.

“This is delicious! My mother made it!” Before Mo Shanhua could reply, Zhang Feilan(Er Ye) eagerly spoke up.

Then, she tilted her head slightly and, in her soft, childlike voice, asked Mo Shanhua, “Grandpa Dean, brother wants to eat some. Should we give it to him?”

Hearing this, Mo Shanhua was immediately charmed by the little girl’s adorable mannerisms.

Without hesitation, he nodded. “Of course, we should give it to him.”

As soon as he spoke, Mo Ziran quickly grabbed a piece of cake and stuffed it into his mouth.

He had been wanting to ask his grandfather earlier, but since he had been chatting with this auntie, he hadn’t found the right moment.

“How is it? Isn’t it delicious?” Zhang Feilan(Er Ya) asked proudly.

Mo Ziran nodded enthusiastically. “It’s really delicious!”

As he spoke, he carefully picked up a small piece and handed it to Zhang Feilan(Er Ya).

She shook her head. “I’ve already eaten before coming here, so I don’t need any more.”

But Mo Ziran ignored her and simply stuffed the piece of cake into her hands before continuing to eat.

“Feixuan (Lui Tou), Feiyi (Qi Tuo), come here!”

The two boys obediently walked over to Jian Xiu, standing calmly before her.

“Are you nervous?” she asked.

“A little, but I think I can handle it!” The six-year-old Zhang Feixuan(Lui Tou) nodded.

Seeing this, Jian Xiu was satisfied. She then turned to the seven-year-old Zhang Feiyi(Qi Tou), her eyes full of inquiry.

“Mother, I have no problem either. Didn’t you tell us on the way here? Just do our best!”

Hearing this, Jian Xiu gently patted both their heads.

Their hair had become much healthier in recent days, no longer as dry and yellow as before, thanks to proper nutrition.

“Yes, I did say that. As long as you do your best, even if things don’t work out, you won’t have any regrets. Right?”

Standing behind them, Mo Shanhua listened to every word Jian Xiu said.

If he had already thought she was no ordinary village woman before, hearing these words only reinforced that belief.

Anyone who could say something so profound had surely experienced the very same lesson in life.

No matter how he looked at her, she didn’t seem like a simple village woman—she was far too exceptional.

However, Mo Shanhua was no naive young man. He naturally kept his thoughts to himself.

“Today’s test will cover arithmetic and painting. I know that you are not literate, but if you can demonstrate excellence in these two areas, I may make an exception and admit you.”

Originally, he hadn’t planned to include arithmetic in today’s exam. But recalling what Jian Xiu had said earlier, he decided to add it.

Because deep down, he had his doubts—perhaps her words had been a little too confident.

But given how much she had already surprised him today, he wondered—could she really bring an unexpected change to his academy?

“Really? Then we thank Dean Mo in advance!” The two brothers spoke in unison.

Before coming here, their mother had specifically taught them arithmetic.

During the journey, they had remained silent, repeatedly memorizing the multiplication tables.

They weren’t sure if others used multiplication tables for arithmetic.

But with them, their calculations became much easier.

“Don’t thank me just yet. If you don’t pass, I won’t make any exceptions,” Mo Shanhua reminded them.

“Dean, don’t worry. We will do our best! As Mother said, as long as we give it our all, even if you don’t accept us, we won’t have any regrets.”

Sure enough, hearing this, Mo Shanhua nodded in satisfaction.

The two brothers had a good sense of comprehension.

Even he, an old scholar, had needed a moment to fully grasp Jian Xiu’s words earlier.

Yet these two children, barely six or seven years old, had understood immediately.

“Here are two sheets of rice paper and some ink. Each of you, take one set and go behind the screen to paint. You may choose any subject you like. Can you do it?”

Hearing this, Jian Xiu’s eyes immediately lit up.

Not just hers—even Zhang Feixuan and Zhang Feiyi had the same reaction.

None of them had expected the exam to unfold exactly as they had hoped.

With Mo Shanhua’s words, their chances of passing had increased significantly.

However, the two brothers remained composed and replied, “We can do it. We guarantee we can finish it.”

With that, they each took a sheet of rice paper and walked behind the screen.

They didn’t even take the ink and brush with them.

Mo Shanhua didn’t notice this detail, but Jian Xiu slightly curled her lips into a knowing smile.

After all, completing a traditional painting typically required at least half an hour—even for children working on something simple.