Although he had mentally prepared himself for the possibility of failing, after the exam, Yuan Yi thought he had done fairly well—at least enough to pass.
For some questions he was unsure about, he had even specifically looked up the answers and found that he hadn’t gotten many wrong.
Yet he actually failed!
Unwilling to accept it, he went online to cross-check the test and calculate his score.
The reason the results came out so quickly was because AI grading assistants were involved in marking the papers. Once the grading was complete, the school would directly publish the test papers along with the scores to the academic exam section of the school’s internal website.
Candidates could log in to check using their student ID number and the campus network password they had set. Next to each incorrect question, there would even be an “Explanation” icon—clicking it would allow them to listen to the correct explanation.
Yuan Yi had no interest in looking at the explanations after reviewing the incorrect questions. Because he never imagined that he would lose points—of all places—on systemic anatomy, or rather, on questions somewhat related to it.
A true-or-false question: The external reproductive system difference between alpha males and beta males is that alpha males have dominant male sexual organs and recessive female sexual organs, while beta males have both male and female sexual organs as dominant.
He answered this correctly.
Yet it was marked wrong!
The correct answer stated: In addition to the above differences, the reproductive organs of alpha males also have barbs when engorged!
Yuan Yi was about to lose it. There was also a drawing question that was just as bad.
The requirement: Draw a sagittal section along the pelvic midline of an alpha male after fully marking their partner.
He had correctly drawn the blood vessels, muscles, and organs, and even included the detail that distinguishes them most from what he knew about humans: after fully marking their partner, alphas lose a certain soft crystalline structure—that is, the knotting part that remains in the partner’s body. This structure regenerates within 24 hours, but right after the final marking is completed, it truly disappears from the alpha’s body because it has transferred into the partner’s body.
He had thought this was the key point of the question, and had drawn it quite clearly.
Who would’ve thought the AI grading teacher would be this! strict!
What’s the big deal about the barbs—was that really the key point?!
His mind hadn’t made the shift; he casually drew a smooth one, and didn’t expect a question like that to even appear on the test.
He lost a full six points!
Questions like this were, in Li Heng’s eyes, practically free points. If you didn’t get them wrong, you’d pass.
Yuan Yi was speechless. His expression turned cold.
And there really were quite a few people paying attention to his exam results this time. They couldn’t see exactly what he got wrong, but they could see the questions he received and his total score. Since he didn’t pass, those who cared about him naturally came asking: What did you get wrong?
Of course, he wasn’t going to say it—this was really hard to talk about. But even if he didn’t say anything, some people could still see it—like Li Heng, who had teaching credentials.
Li Heng was silent after reading it. He hadn’t expected Yuan Yi to make a mistake in that area either. It was absurd—and a little heartbreaking. After all, Yuan Yi had worked so hard for so long. A pregnant person, studying from early morning till late at night every day, and still didn’t pass… It really was a bit cruel.
Sure enough, several threads exploded on the school forum again.
“Someone didn’t pass the transfer exam! Told you it wasn’t that easy!”
“You can’t just switch into the medical school just because you want to!”
“A hundred thumbs up for the teacher who proposed using random questions from the mouse bank this time!”
Every thread related to Yuan Yi had tons of comments. Li Heng clicked into a few to skim through, then came out and posted a new thread himself:
“Some people admire each other. Some people celebrate incompetence—such is a diverse world.”
There were also people who couldn’t stand it and spoke up for Yuan Yi: “He only missed it by four points. To those secretly belittling him—how many points could you get?”
The Future Lies Beneath My Feet: “To do this well in such a short time is absolutely crushing most people, okay?! Do some of you idiots even understand what the test questions meant?”
Founding Father of Clinical Psychology: “Has no one realized how ridiculously difficult this exam was? Did you all forget that he was tackling a specialty that other regular clinical med students have already been studying for a whole year? He’s only studied it for just over a month. When you’re making these harsh comments, have you ever considered whether your brain or your conscience feels ashamed by the words you say?!”
Senior Pan: “I just want to know how many people transferring into the medical school could even score as high as he did. Before you go looking down on him, please look in the mirror and see what you’re really worth.”
Suffering Medical Dog: “Am I the only one who heard he got a perfect score in suturing? The anatomy teacher said his technique was flawless. Wuwuwuwu I really want to be mentored by him. People who suck at suturing are probably crying right now.”
Yuan Yi was about to mentally break down—on the inside. On the surface, his face still looked calm—just a calmness that felt slightly cold.
When memorizing medical theory, he had come across the detail that alphas had those barbs, but he really didn’t expect that such a thing would actually end up being tested.
To say he wasn’t upset would be a lie.
Principal Li and Professor Jian didn’t ask him how the exam went. Instead, Professor Jian called to ask if he had any plans, and if not, she’d take him out to relax properly.
He knew—they’d both heard that he hadn’t passed.
Privately, Pan Yuechen and Yue Zhen also comforted him, saying the score was already very close—it was just a matter of time. Retaking the exam at the start of next semester would be just as good.
Even Ji Lan called him, telling him it was fine—he was already awesome beyond words, and next semester he could pass with his eyes closed.
But Yuan Yi still found it hard to recover emotionally in a short time.
It felt like setting out to do something full of hope, only to discover when you expected a good outcome that the fruit had already rotted.
It was really unpleasant.
He replied with “thanks” to each message, one by one, and sat alone in his aircraft, pondering what to do next.
Just then, a knocking came from the window outside.
Yuan Yi looked over and saw it was He Yanwu and Pan Yuechen. After a brief hesitation, he opened the door. “Seniors, did you need something?”
Li Heng saw that his eyes were red—but not from crying, more the kind of redness from staying up too late—and waved, “Come down. Come with me.”
Yuan Yi didn’t move. “Where to?”
Li Heng said it as casually as if he were talking about eating or drinking, “Where else? Obviously to register again. You do know that transfer exams can be applied for at any time during the school’s teaching period, right?”
Yuan Yi said, “I know.”
Li Heng said, “Then what are you still sitting here thinking about? There’s still a week before the holiday—why not use the time to retake it now? Don’t wait until next semester when you’ve already forgotten what you reviewed. That’d be such a waste, wouldn’t it? Go on, go to the Academic Affairs Office and get another application form. Also re-submit the application online. I’ve already confirmed things with the office—there are still teachers on duty right now. Just head over directly.”
Yuan Yi’s eyes instantly lit up. “Thank you, Senior!”
Li Heng, with an ice cream stick in his mouth, said, “No problem. After all, I do bear a tiny bit of responsibility for you not passing this time.”
Yuan Yi asked suspiciously, “Was the idea to use the mouse-question-draw method yours?”
Li Heng said, “Not at all. That was Dean Qiao’s idea. All right, stop asking—you’ll find out later.”
Right now Yuan Yi’s mind was filled with thoughts of retaking the exam. Hearing this, he immediately ran off toward the Academic Affairs Office. Li Heng was startled and shouted after him, “Slow down!”
Yuan Yi quickly slowed his pace and, as he turned his head, managed a rare smile.
Li Heng was usually calm and unshakable like a mountain. But at this moment, he felt a sudden sense of daze. Maybe it was because the sunlight was too dazzling.
Pan Yuechen, who all the way here had no idea why he’d been dragged along and was only now finally understanding, said, “…Senior Yanwu, I only realized today that under your big shorts, oversized T-shirt, and large flip-flops, there’s actually such a delicate heart hidden? Could it be that you…”
Li Heng hooked an arm around Pan Yuechen’s neck. “Could it be what? Don’t start guessing nonsense. Come on, your senior’s treating you to ice cream.”
Pan Yuechen was being choked and was nearly rolling his eyes. He begged, “Senior, if you just want to eat two ice creams yourself, I can totally not go—please spare me ahhh…”
At the Academic Affairs Office
Teacher Lu, who was in charge of the transfer exam registration, said, “Taking the test solo will be more stressful. It might even be broadcast live the entire time. Are you really sure you want to apply again? Yuan, you should know—the questions will definitely be different from the ones you had before. Besides, with your score, you’ll definitely pass next semester. There’s no need to rush.”
Yuan Yi replied, “Even so, I’d still like to try again. Sorry for the trouble, Teacher Lu.”
Teacher Lu smiled and said, “No wonder He Yanwu said you’d definitely come—you really do have a certain tenacity. All right then, you’ll take the test again in three days. Unless there’s some unexpected change, the exam room should still be the same one.”
“Okay. May I trouble you to keep it confidential for now?”
“Only for two days at most. After registration, the candidates’ information will be displayed on the campus network the day before the exam.”
“Two days is fine too. Thank you, Teacher Lu.”
“You’re welcome. Go on now.”
After receiving approval, Yuan Yi let out a quiet breath. He should’ve been getting nervous again, but for some reason, he felt a faint sense of relief in his heart.
As long as there was a chance, he would definitely seize it. That was the most useful survival skill he had learned since childhood.
When Zhou Xingran saw Yuan Yi’s exam result, however, he wasn’t happy at all.
Of course, he was glad to see that Yuan Yi hadn’t passed. But failing by just four points—that meant it was only a matter of time before he passed, and that thought especially irritated him.
He thought of how his father had beaten him and called him a dumb donkey, and even said Yuan Yi was smarter than him! Smart? He didn’t believe it at all! Yuan Yi’s academic performance was just average—he had seen it himself. He never believed from the start that Yuan Yi could get into the medical school.
But Yuan Yi managed to get such a score—what did that mean? It had to mean someone was secretly helping him.
What made him even angrier was that he couldn’t immediately go and look into the matter. Instead, he had to come find the very father who’d called him a dumb donkey.
He had traveled for days with his mother, so exhausted he felt dizzy, yet not even a single person had come to pick them up.
In order not to be discovered by Zhou Tandai, Fang Jing had come secretly this time. She didn’t even take a first-class spaceship seat, leaving her with a sore back and aching waist. But this time, no matter what, she had to get to the bottom of it—whether Zhou Tandai really was keeping a mistress behind her back. If he was, then there was absolutely no way she’d agree to a divorce, because keeping a mistress would mean Zhou Tandai had never been honest with her from the start.
She thought she had already gotten a lot out of the marriage—but who knew if he had given even more to that mistress?
Fang Jing scanned her interstellar pass and found a modest little inn to stay at.
Land here was extremely expensive. It was laughable that she used to think the environment at outer orbital defense posts was bad and refused to come. But this time, she truly gained some perspective.
Even though this was just an artificial satellite, its scale was massive—almost like a small city.
Zhou Xingran complained, “Mom, it’s not like we don’t have money. Why are we staying in such a lousy place? This place is terrible.”
Fang Jing said, “What do you know? No matter what, this place is your dad’s turf. If we do anything too eye-catching, he’ll notice us right away. How would we catch him cheating then? Just put up with it for a few days.”
Zhou Xingran was still fuming about Yuan Yi hitting him. Although the heat of the previous fight had died down a bit thanks to the recent exam news, he was still burning with anger inside.
“Didn’t you say you’d make it so he can never have kids again? When are you going to do it? Don’t tell me you’re really going to wait until he actually gets into the medical school—that’d be a huge win for him! And if he really does pass, the Li family will only try harder to protect him.” After all, who wouldn’t like an omega who was good-looking and academically excellent? His dad was even backing Yuan Yi! Just thinking about it made him furious!
“Almost. Why are you so anxious? If I really get evidence that your father is fooling around, just wait and see—I’ll deal with both uncle and nephew at once!”
Only then did Zhou Xingran fall silent. And taking advantage of the fact that he was a military family member—with a communicator that had protective features and was harder to trace—he went onto the campus forum with yet another alternate account.
He made a post titled: Some seniors in the medical school shouldn’t be too naive.
In the post, he said that although the exam questions were published, the actual answers weren’t, so who could say how Yuan Yi had answered them? Maybe it was just paving the way for his next attempt, making everyone think he really had the ability to pass. But who knew if he even took the test himself?
Since many of those who weren’t in the medical school hadn’t actually seen Yuan Yi study, they felt that what this person said had some logic to it.
The post quickly became a trending topic, and some people began demanding even greater openness and transparency—going as far as wanting a surveillance camera watching Yuan Yi throughout the whole test.
Yuan Yi hadn’t logged onto the forum, so naturally he didn’t see any of this. First, he was busy reviewing and had no time for such things.
Second, after returning home, he had a faint sense that his body felt a little warm—similar to how he’d felt during the pregnancy preparation period, just after being stimulated by Li Heng’s pheromones.
Something felt off.
Obrigada pela tradução ❣️
Thanks for reading❤