At this moment, the homeroom teacher Charles Wood took out a stack of test papers and placed them on the podium, raising his voice: “Class, the midterm exams are coming up soon. As usual, today we’ll have our final mock test. Although the mock test is only for reference compared to the official midterm, it’s still a school-wide competition. Our Class Five is the key experimental class, the star among star classes—we absolutely cannot let any other class surpass us.”

“Last time in the Chinese mock exam, although our class had the highest average score, the top student in the whole school was taken by Class Nine’s Ethan Lincoln. For all of us in Class Five, that’s a disgrace. I hope everyone gives it their all and shows the other classes what a real key class looks like.”

Charles Wood was giving a passionate speech on stage, while Robert Dale muttered quietly in the back, “Maniac! He’s totally hyped up.”

The test papers were quickly handed out to everyone. An interesting phenomenon was that the loudest and most mischievous students in class were now the quietest; almost everyone was frowning, sighing at the densely packed test papers.

Qingyun High School was different from those so-called elite schools where you could just coast by—it placed great emphasis on teaching quality. If your grades weren’t good, it was basically impossible to have an easy time here.

Since parents sent their children here, their expectations were naturally high. If their grades were a mess, there’d be no way to explain to their parents. No other punishment was needed—just cutting off their financial support would be enough to scare these spendthrift rich kids half to death.

After receiving the test paper, Olivia Bolton didn’t browse through it like the other students, but instead picked up his pen and started answering questions right away.

He barely needed to think, just wrote straight through at an incredible speed. By the time others had only just finished reading through the questions, he had already completed the multiple-choice and fill-in-the-blank sections.

Seeing Olivia Bolton start answering without looking over the whole test, Charles Wood secretly mocked him—an idiot is an idiot. Exams are like a marathon; you have to grasp the whole content to allocate your energy and time scientifically, and only then can you achieve the best results.

He was just waiting to see Olivia Bolton stumble in the exam, so he could have a legitimate reason to kick him out of Class Five.

Robert Dale scratched his head, racking his brains, but after a long struggle, he still hadn’t answered many questions. He noticed Olivia Bolton was calm and composed, his pen moving swiftly, breezing through the test without stopping once.

This made him very curious—was this guy just scribbling randomly, or was he actually answering seriously?

He really wanted to peek, but the homeroom teacher’s hawk-like gaze swept over from time to time, scaring him into keeping his eyes on his own paper and focusing on his own test.

Charles Wood was known as the “Hawkeye Detective” among Qingyun’s teachers—countless cheating legends had fallen into his hands. Robert Dale didn’t dare take the risk. If he was caught cheating, his dad would beat him to a pulp at home.

Robert Dale cobbled together answers and finally finished the fill-in-the-blank section. Just as he was about to look at the next part, Olivia Bolton stood up, walked quickly to the podium, and handed in his test paper.

“What are you doing?” Charles Wood asked suspiciously.

“Handing in my paper,” Olivia Bolton replied calmly.

“Uh, handing in… handing in your paper?” Charles Wood stared in disbelief. He checked his watch—less than an hour had passed since the test started, and he was already handing in his paper.

Impossible. Just writing the 800-word essay alone should take at least half an hour, right? He finished all the questions in just over fifty minutes?

Even if the teacher who wrote the test came and copied the standard answers, fifty minutes probably wouldn’t be enough.

“Are you kidding me? How many times have I told you all—if you can’t answer a question, don’t give up so easily. Take your paper back; I don’t want anyone handing in a blank sheet,” Charles Wood said impatiently.

If it ended this quickly, it would be no fun. He wanted Olivia Bolton to keep going for a while, to make him suffer more psychological pressure.

“You didn’t even look at it—how do you know I’m handing in a blank paper?” Olivia Bolton smirked with a hint of mockery. He knew exactly what little schemes this homeroom teacher had in mind.

“What? It’s all filled in? I’ve also told you, if you don’t know how to do it, just don’t do it. If you scribble randomly, you might annoy the graders and lose points…”

Charles Wood reluctantly glanced at Olivia Bolton’s test paper. After just a few questions, he suddenly fell silent, like a rooster with its neck wrung.

The first two rather difficult multiple-choice questions were actually correct.

Charles Wood perked up and kept reading—multiple-choice, all correct.

He looked up in surprise at Olivia Bolton, trying to read something from his face. Unfortunately, Olivia Bolton’s expression was blank, his eyes calm as still water, showing no guilt or any other emotion.

Charles Wood continued reading—fill-in-the-blank, still all correct.

There were even two extremely obscure classical poetry couplets, and he answered them both flawlessly.