The moment the announcement was made, the crowd stirred.
“What?” A random draw? I probably won’t get picked…”
“I even prepared questions! Don’t tell me I won’t get to ask.”
“I didn’t expect so many people either. Can’t the people who are just here to watch not waste our chances?”
Despite the complaints, no one in the audience left.
Even if they didn’t get the chance to ask a question, they were determined to watch the show until the end. After all, who wouldn’t want to see Jean Ginger exposed for faking her perfect scores?
At that moment, the grade director walked over to Jean and whispered, “You can start calling out a seat number now. Just let me know which one.”
Jean thought for a moment and then calmly said, “Let’s go with 888.”
If I have to pick a number, it might as well be a lucky one.
“All right. Would the student in seat 888 please step forward to ask their question? If you didn’t prepare one, you can pass, and we’ll draw another.”
The student in seat 888 was a slightly chubby boy wearing thick, black–rimmed glasses.
When his number was called, surprise and excitement flashed across his face. He immediately stood up from his seat.
His hands quickly flipped through the pages on his desk.
It turns out that the boy had brought an unusually thick math book with him.
Jean noticed, and the corner of her mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.
Wow.
Talk about coming prepared!
Does he even haul in a book that big?
“Jean Ginger, I’d like to ask you this question…” The boy finally found the page he was looking for and spoke up, slightly breathless.
He was, of course, asking a math question.
It wasn’t an easy one–it was the type that usually appeared as one of the final, most difficult questic on a middle school math exam.
Murmurs began to ripple through the crowd again.
This level of difficulty doesn’t require scratch work for me.
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