The moment Yue Qingqing truly sat in the exam hall and picked up her pen, her heart was more peaceful than it had ever been before.
She didn't even cast a spell to clear her mind.
After all, for Yue Qingqing, solving problems had almost become an instinct.
Receiving the paper, reviewing the questions, verifying calculations.
All of it flowed so naturally it had almost become muscle memory rather than brain memory.
It was a habit Yue Qingqing had cultivated over many years.
Though she had been distracted by trivial matters over the years, Yue Qingqing had never been lazy.
She did not rely on her status as a cultivator to take shortcuts, but earnestly thought through each problem and memorized all the content taught by her teachers.
These were her foundations.
In such circumstances, Yue Qingqing was especially focused, as if she were in a natural barrier.
A space of pure white, with only her, the pen in her hand, and the paper on her desk.
